23. Liam
Chapter twenty-three
Liam
I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t focus. I can’t even pretend to be okay.
For weeks, I’ve been walking around like a ghost, showing up at meetings, shaking hands, signing papers, making decisions — all the while my mind is stuck on her.
On Lucy.
It’s torture.
I tell myself she doesn’t deserve this much of me — not after what she did, not after how she left things — but my heart doesn’t care about logic. It never did when it came to her.
I’ve been miserable without her. Every day feels longer, heavier. I still wake up thinking about her. I still catch myself reaching for my phone at night like maybe — just maybe — she’ll have sent me something. An explanation. Anything.
But there’s nothing. Always nothing.
Tonight is the first night in weeks I’ve even let myself admit it: I can’t keep going like this. I can’t let her marry him without at least knowing why. Without at least trying.
Nate, who seems to know everyone and have ins with people all over the state, had handed me a note the other day.
It simply had her father’s name and business, his address, and details about the upcoming engagement and wedding of his only daughter Lucille Jane Whittier.
How and where he got all this information is always a mystery to me, but that guy is sure connected.
I studied the details over and over, with still no resolution as to the why of it all.
That’s why I call Nate and Bryan.
The three of us are sitting in the corner booth of our usual place, a quiet bar just outside of town. I swirl the amber liquid in my glass, but I don’t drink it. The weight in my chest is heavier than anything a drink could fix.
Bryan leans back in his seat, watching me with that calm, calculating stare of his. Nate sits across from me, arms folded, his brow furrowed like he already knows what’s coming.
I take a breath.
“I’m going to the engagement party,” I say finally. My voice is steady — steadier than I expected.
Nate exhales through his nose, shaking his head slightly, though there’s no real judgment in his expression. “I figured as much,” he mutters.
Bryan doesn’t even flinch. He just studies me for a long moment before saying quietly, “You’ve already made up your mind, haven’t you?”
“I have,” I say simply. It’s the truth.
I’ve gone back and forth on this for weeks now. Telling myself to forget her. To move on. To let her go. But I can’t.
Not until I know why. Not until I can look her in the eyes and hear her tell me she never cared — or that she did, and it just wasn’t enough.
I need to know. Even if it destroys me.
Nate runs a hand over his jaw, sighing. “This is risky, man,” he says carefully.
I nod.
“I know.”
“But you’re still gonna do it,” he says, more statement than question.
I meet his gaze. “I have to.”
Bryan finally speaks up, his voice calm but firm. “Then don’t do it halfway,” he advises. “If you’re going to show up, you make sure she sees how much she means to you. Don’t stand in the corner and wait for her to come to you. Make her see you.”
I take in his words, and they settle into me like stone. He’s right.
Nate sits forward, resting his elbows on the table. His tone softens. “We’ve got your back, you know that.” he says. “If you need us, we’ll be there. Whatever happens.”
I look between them — my oldest friends, my brothers — and feel something shift in my chest.
It’s been a long time since I let myself lean on anyone. But tonight, I’m grateful for them.
I nod.
“Thanks,” I say quietly.
They both give me a look that says more than words ever could.
We sit in silence for a few moments before Nate clears his throat, breaking the tension. “So,” he says with a wry smile, “you got a plan? Or are you just going to wing it?”
I actually let out a laugh — small, bitter, but real.
“I don’t know yet,” I admit. “All I know is I’m not letting her walk down that aisle without knowing how I feel.”
“Good,” Bryan says simply.
I drain my drink and set the glass down with a quiet clink.
Tomorrow is the party. Tomorrow is my chance — maybe my last. I don’t know what’s going to happen.
But I know one thing for sure: I can’t let her go without a fight.
Even if it’s the biggest gamble of my life.