The 90-Day Experiment (The Expiry Date Diaries #1)

Epilogue

Emerson

As we stepped onto the rooftop deck, all eyes zeroed in on our hands, squeezing like we were each other’s life preservers.

We were walking into the lion’s den, and I felt like the clueless gazelle with a big, fat target on my back, just waiting for the judgment to hit. The summer evening air, usually cool and refreshing, felt heavy and stifling with all the tension hanging around.

Liam's hand tightened around mine—that gentle pressure that somehow always knew when my brain was spiraling. I glanced up, catching that crooked smile that had been my undoing from day one.

His eyes held that steady confidence I'd come to rely on, silently telling me I had this. That we had this.

"Hey, everyone." My voice came out squeaky, like I'd been huffing helium. Perfect. I swallowed hard, trying to find my professional voice—the one that commanded respect in lecture halls and boardrooms.

"So, um, we have something we need to tell you."

My heart was doing its best impression of a jackhammer, and I could feel sweat making my shirt stick to my back. Great. Really selling this whole 'I'm a competent adult making rational decisions' thing.

A wave of whispers rippled through my family. I could practically feel them holding their breath, waiting for whatever bombshell we were about to drop.

The warm breeze hit my face, and I squeezed Liam's hand again, drawing strength from his presence beside me.

"Liam and I," I managed, my voice finally finding its proper register, "we've decided to continue our relationship beyond the 90 days."

The words hung there for a second. Then came the raised eyebrows, dropped jaws, and skeptical looks.

Their scrutiny felt like a physical weight pressing down on me. I could almost hear their thoughts: Are they serious? Do they know what they’re doing? What about the pact?

I pushed on, determined to make them understand.

“I know this wasn’t what we agreed,” I said, making eye contact with each of them. “But we can’t walk away.”

Liam’s thumb stroked mine, a gentle reminder of his unwavering support. I felt a surge of warmth and love for this man who was standing beside me, ready to face whatever came next.

“We hope you can respect our decision,” I finished.

The silence that followed was thick, stretching out like an eternity. My pulse thudded in my throat, and just when I thought the tension couldn’t get any thicker, Mackenzie’s voice cut through the air.

“So, you’re just going to ignore the deal we all made?” she said, her tone dripping with disappointment, her eyes flashing with hurt and anger.

Liam’s hand tightened around mine, his grip a silent anchor in the storm of judgment.

Drawing strength from him, I reminded myself why we were standing here, why we made this scary but exciting decision.

“What we have, it’s more than just some temporary thing. It’s real,” I said, my voice miraculously steadier than the chaos inside me.

I turned to Liam, searching his eyes for the love and determination I knew would be there. He nodded, his expression steady.

“We didn’t plan for this to happen,” Liam added, his voice warm and sincere, a stark contrast to the cold stares around us. “But over these past 90 days, what we thought was just a fling has grown into something genuine and deep. We can’t just turn our backs on that because of some pact.”

I could see the mix of emotions flickering across my cousins’ faces—disappointment, frustration, and maybe a hint of envy? A twisted part of me enjoyed that envy, though I’d never admit it out loud.

“Have you even considered what this could do to the book deal?” Mackenzie jumped in, her usual humor nowhere to be found. She looked like she was about two seconds away from tearing her hair out. “We were supposed to prove the 90-day theory wrong, not validate it!”

“I know,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm and reasonable, but inside I was a mess of nerves. “But this is about being true to ourselves and our feelings.”

“Since when did you become such a believer in true love?” Quinn asked. “I thought you were all about scientific facts and chemical reactions.”

Her words stung, a sharp reminder of the person I used to be. The person I still was, in some ways. But I couldn’t deny the truth of what she said. I had changed, and it was all because of Liam.

The man who made me feel like the center of the universe, who turned my world upside down and made me actually believe in this crazy thing called love.

And I wasn’t about to let that go. This was too important, and I was ready to fight for it.

Before I could think of a response, my mom stepped forward, her calm presence cutting through the tension. Perfect timing, as always.

“Why don’t we all sit down and discuss this over dinner?” she said, leaving no room for argument. “Vic and I have worked hard on this meal, and these things are always better talked about with full stomachs anyway.”

As we made our way to the dining table at the end of the deck, I locked eyes with Liam.

The bastard had the audacity to smile at me—a smile so damn reassuring it made my heart do flips. It was a smile that said, “We’ve got this,” even though deep down, I knew we were walking into a mess.

The long table was set with delicate fine china and crystal glasses, a stark contrast to the simmering emotions underneath.

Aunt Vic came in with a steaming platter of roast chicken, the aroma momentarily distracting from the tension.

The scent of garlic and rosemary filled the air, mingling with the underlying tension. As we started serving ourselves, the silence was broken only by the clink of cutlery against plates, each metallic sound a sharp reminder of the brewing storm.

It was my sister Kennedy who finally broke the silence, her director’s instinct for drama unable to resist any longer.

“Look, I get that you two are in love or whatever,” she said, gesturing between Liam and me with her fork, a piece of chicken dangling precariously. “But have you thought about how this would affect the rest of us?”

I set down my glass and met her gaze head-on. “Of course we did. We agonized over this decision. Frankly, I did call it off because of exactly this, but in the end, we just couldn’t let each other go.”

“Oh, please,” Mackenzie scoffed. “A few months ago, you would’ve laughed at the idea of following your heart. What happened to the logical, scientific Emerson?”

Liam’s hand slid up my knee under the table, a secret, possessive gesture that sent a shot of adrenaline through my veins. That touch wasn’t just comforting—it was my anchor in this shitshow.

“She’s still here,” I said. “But she’s also learned that life and love can’t be measured in a lab. At least not with anything that’s measurable today.”

“It’s true,” Liam added, his voice warm and sincere. “Emerson has taught me so much about the science of love, but together, we’ve discovered a beautiful unpredictability to it. Something that defies any formula.”

I caught a flicker of something in Mackenzie’s eyes before she covered it with indifference. It was a brief moment, but it gave me a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, she understood a bit.

"But what about the book?" Harlow's voice hit me like a gentle accusation. My baby sister, always the worrier, always trying to keep our grand plans from derailing. "We all agreed to prove the 90-day theory wrong. Now what?"

I opened my mouth to defend us, but Taylor beat me to it. Leave it to my therapist sister to find the silver lining.

"Actually," she said, using that calm voice she probably used with clients, "this might make our story more compelling. One couple breaking the rules while others stay the course? That's potentially narrative gold."

The energy around the table shifted. I could practically see the gears turning behind everyone's eyes—the same look they all got when brainstorming a particularly tricky problem.

These were my people: overachievers, analyzers, planners. And here I was, the supposed rational one, throwing a wrench in our experiment because my heart had decided to stage a coup against my brain.

I snuck a glance at Liam, catching that little half-smile that still made my stomach flip. Under the table, his fingers tightened around mine, our secret code for "we've got this."

God, when had I become this person? The one finding comfort in hand-squeezes and stolen glances?

"Taylor's right." Shelby's voice cut through my internal spiral. "Different outcomes, different perspectives—it's actually perfect. Shows the complexity of relationships instead of just proving a point."

I could read every micro-expression around the table—my family's specialty was wearing their thoughts on their sleeves.

The frustration was still there, etched in furrowed brows and tight lips, but something else was creeping in.

My shoulders started to relax, hope building like a successful experiment finally yielding results. But then something caught my eye that made my stomach drop.

At the far end of the table, my mom and Aunt Victoria were huddled together, heads bent in a secretive whisper like they were exchanging nuclear codes. It was the kind of urgent, conspiratorial huddle that would make any self-respecting gossip’s ears perk up.

And there, clutched in my mom’s hand, was a letter—the same damn letter that had been mistakenly delivered to my mailbox. Curiosity gnawed at me like a rabid beast as I strained to catch snippets of their whispered conversation, but their voices were maddeningly low.

The worried looks on their faces, however, screamed louder than a siren, like watching a silent movie, all expressive eyes and tense gestures.

But the moment snapped when they caught me looking, the letter tucked away hastily.

As the evening stretched on, Liam excused himself, flashing me that irresistible, apologetic smile as he slipped back downstairs. He muttered something about needing to get back to some work, which I’m pretty sure was code for “I’ve had enough of your family’s drama for one night.”

With his finances still tight, we’d decided to move in together to save some cash, so he didn’t have far to go.

At first, I wasn’t sure how it would go. Sharing my space with someone felt like a huge friggin’ leap. But now, the idea of him not being there was what scared the crap out of me.

It had been surprisingly easy, like he was always meant to be there, filling the rooms with his warmth, laughter, and that sexy charm.

Left to my own devices, I stepped to the other end of the deck to escape the suffocating tension at the table. The cool night breeze was a welcome relief, a stark contrast to the heated mess that had dominated the evening.

The sky was a dark velvet blanket dotted with stars, and for a moment, I let myself get lost in the peaceful night. The air smelled of pine and the tang of the lake, grounding me through the chaos swirling in my head.

I leaned against the railing, the cool metal beneath my elbows, and took a deep breath. The calm of the night started to seep in, easing the tension that had knotted my shoulders into a pretzel.

“Hey,” a voice said from behind me, snapping me back to reality.

I turned to see my closest cousin—Avery and I were practically twins, born just a couple of months apart.

Her face was coated with curiosity, like she was trying to solve a puzzle. “You okay?”

I nodded, still leaning against the railing. “Yeah, just... processing everything. It went better than I expected, honestly.”

“Isn’t that just like us? Always fighting, but never separating.” She stepped closer. “You know,” she said thoughtfully, “I think our moms actually pulled it off. Even with all our differences, they somehow managed to keep us all close. How the hell did they do that?”

I chuckled, thinking of our twin moms. Their bond, forged by the loss of their mother and the absence of their father, had led them to raise their brood of children almost as siblings.

Despite their somewhat self-absorbed nature and reliance on an army of nannies when we were little, they succeeded in creating a tightly knit family.

“They really did,” I agreed, feeling nostalgic. “It’s like some weird master plan that actually worked.”

Avery nodded. “I guess we’ve got a good thing going. Even during a colossal shitshow, we’ve got each other’s backs.”

I glanced at my sisters and cousins, each one shaped by my mom’s weird sort of reckless stability—somehow both flighty and grounded—and Aunt Vic’s adventurous spirit. We all carried pieces of both of them.

“Yeah, we do,” I said, feeling a sudden and strong love for my weird little family.

Avery leaned on the rail beside me, her eyes sweeping over the lake. The moonlight danced on the water’s surface, creating a mesmerizing effect. The scene was almost like something out of a dream—if dreams came with a side of family drama and a sprinkle of dark secrets.

“So, what was up with that letter?” Avery asked, her voice low, cutting through the peaceful night.

I glanced at her, noting the determined look in her eyes. “You noticed that too?”

She nodded, her gaze still on the shimmering water. “Yeah, Mom and Aunt Vivi seemed pretty worked up. Any idea what it was about?”

I shook my head. “No, but it was originally delivered to my mailbox. It’s pretty fancy, and the strange thing is, it’s from a law firm… based in Switzerland.”

Avery’s eyebrows shot up, clearly intrigued. “Switzerland? That's definitely weird, right? Like, international-crime-syndicate weird? Or secret-Swiss-bank-account weird?"

We locked eyes, and I could see my own unease reflected in her face. The scary part? Neither scenario seemed that far-fetched when it came to our mothers.

The evening symphony of crickets and lapping waves suddenly felt ominous, like nature itself was in on whatever conspiracy we'd stumbled into. My brain kicked into overdrive, spinning through possibilities like I was back in my lab running scenarios.

"Why Switzerland, of all places?" The question came out barely above a whisper. "What kind of mess have they gotten themselves into?"

"God, I hope it's nothing serious." Avery's voice carried that same fascination and dread I was feeling.

"You don't exactly hire Swiss legal counsel for a neighborly dispute over hedge height." I ran my fingers through my hair, a nervous habit I thought I'd kicked years ago. "This has to be something bigger. Much bigger."

The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken theories. My scientist brain was already categorizing possibilities, trying to create order from chaos—the way I always did when things felt out of control.

"We need to dig deeper." Avery's voice had that steel-backed determination I recognized from our childhood adventures. "If this has anything to do with all the secrets the Vivoria keep…” She used our childhood mashup name for our mothers, which somehow made everything feel even more real. More urgent.

I nodded, feeling that familiar resolve settle in my chest—the same one that had driven me through years of research and late-night lab work.

"Whatever they're hiding, maybe this is our chance to finally crack the code."

As we turned to head back to the table, a sense of uneasy anticipation settled over us. The night air suddenly felt charged with the weight of whatever we were about to uncover. What secrets could our moms be hiding?

And just how deep did this rabbit hole go?

THE END…