Chapter 50
FIFTY
The barn had always been my sanctuary. When Drew and I were kids, we’d built a fort in the hayloft out of old blankets and stolen couch cushions.
We’d spent entire summers up there, reading comics and making up stories about being pirates or astronauts or whatever adventure had captured our imagination that week.
As we got older, Drew had spent most of his time playing hockey, but the barn had stayed my haven.
I’d practiced dances out here for hours.
It had always been my happy place, but now Liam’s memory tainted the air.
Even with the memories from spending this summer with him bombarding me, the barn felt like the only place I could breathe.
My family had been watching me carefully since I came home for Thanksgiving break. Mom was constantly checking on me, Dad would stare whenever I entered a room, although he tried not to be too obvious about it, and Drew kept trying to get me to tell him what was wrong.
I just wanted some peace from the questions that I didn’t have the heart to answer.
But even with the cold air nipping at my nose and lips, I couldn’t find the energy to move and go back inside, so I just stayed with my legs dangling out of the loft and watched the snow start to fall.
It was always so peaceful when it snowed. Everything got really quiet except for the small little sounds the snow made as it fell against hard ground. I closed my eyes and took a deep inhale, letting the cold shock my lungs.
My nose burned with the threat of tears as my heart ached in my chest. It had been aching like that since Liam had walked out of my apartment. I wasn’t sure if it would ever stop; it didn’t seem likely since he’d taken my heart with him.
Even knowing he’d been lying hadn’t made our breakup easier. Because understanding why someone hurt you didn’t make the hurt go away. And knowing he was lying didn’t change the fact that he’d still chosen to leave.
The snow fell harder, and I pulled my coat tighter around me.
I should probably go inside, drink hot chocolate with my mom, or curl up on the couch in front of the fire.
My mom was likely already making room for the Christmas tree we’d be going to get tomorrow.
It was our family tradition. The Saturday after Thanksgiving, we always went out and cut our Christmas tree, then spent the rest of the day decorating it. She’d probably appreciate my help.
But I couldn’t make myself move.
I missed him.
God, I missed him so much it felt like a physical wound—this constant ache in my chest that flared every time I saw something that reminded me of him.
Which was everything and everywhere. I’d never realized how embedded Liam Farrell was in every aspect of my life—even before we were together—until he was gone.
But I wasn’t going to chase him.
That was the line I’d drawn in the sand, the promise I’d made to myself after he left.
I wasn’t going to beg a man for his affection.
I wasn’t going to become one of those women who made themselves small and desperate, hoping that if they just loved hard enough, it would be enough to make someone stay.
I’d spent my whole life being easy. Being accommodating.
Being the girl who didn’t ask for too much because asking meant risking rejection.
And where had it gotten me? Alone in a barn on a Friday night while snow piled up outside, crying over a man who’d made me believe I was worth fighting for and then proved I wasn’t.
No.
If Liam wanted to run, then I’d let him.
Even if I missed him with every breath I took and wished to my core that for once I’d been enough for him to stay.
The crunch of tires coming up the drive broke me out of my thoughts, and headlights grew closer. The truck was too far away to see who it was. Probably one of my parents’ friends.
I wiped away the few errant tears that had escaped and decided this was my sign to head back to the house. I headed down the ladder and was walking toward the barn door when it slid open and I froze to my spot.
Liam stood in the doorway, snow dusting his dark hair and the shoulders of his jacket.
He looked like hell with his face unshaven and shadows under his eyes, like he hadn’t slept properly in days.
Maybe weeks. His green eyes found mine across the dim space, and I saw a yearning in them that made my traitorous heart stutter.
“What are you doing here?” My voice came out steadier than I felt.
He didn’t move, just stood there in the doorway while the snow swirled around him, looking at me like I was the only thing in the world worth seeing.
And I hated him a little for it.
I hated him for showing up here, in my safe place, looking wrecked and beautiful and sorry. I hated him for making me feel things I’d spent weeks trying to bury. I hated him for the way my heart was racing despite everything he’d done.
Most of all, I hated that some small, stupid part of me was glad he’d come.
But I wasn’t going to show him that.
I crossed my arms over my chest and lifted my chin, armor locking into place.
“Well?” I said. “Did you just come here to stare or do you have something to say?”