25. Liam
25
LIAM
I stand across the street from the coffee shop, my eyes locked on Bianca through the glass window. She’s deep in conversation, finalizing plans for our hotel resort with a couple of our team members. It's been a week since the breakup, and Alex and I have dodged every meeting.
Bianca's usual confidence seems to have evaporated. Her shoulders sag, her eyes lack their usual spark. She barely smiles, and it's clear something's off. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, unable to tear my gaze away from her.
The memory crashes over me, vivid and immediate.
The yacht rocks gently, the early morning sun creeping over the horizon. I wake up, naked, with Bianca nestled in my arms. Her long box braids tickle my face, and I shiver as the cool ocean breeze cuts through the warmth of our shared body heat. Her scent, a mix of jasmine and something uniquely her, fills my senses.
Alex stirs beside us, groaning as he stretches out. His light brown hair is a mess, and he mutters something incoherent. James is on Bianca's other side, his hazel eyes still closed but a lazy smile playing on his lips. For a moment, it’s like no time has passed. The weight of the world and the years between us disappear, leaving just the four of us, tangled in each other's presence.
"Morning," Alex mumbles, rubbing his eyes. "Anyone else freezing their ass off?"
Bianca chuckles softly. "We could head inside."
"Nah," James says, his voice still thick with sleep. "This is perfect."
It’s perfect. The way we move together this morning seems effortless. As if the years apart never happened.
We stumble to our feet, gathering blankets and clothes in a chaotic dance of laughter and groans. Inside the cabin, Alex starts rummaging through the tiny kitchen.
"Who wants breakfast?" he asks, brandishing a carton of eggs like it's some rare treasure.
"Just don't burn anything," Bianca teases, wrapping herself in one of the blankets.
James smirks, leaning against the counter. "Let's hope he’s gotten better since college."
I sit down at the small table, watching them move around each other with ease. It’s like slipping into an old pair of shoes—comfortable and familiar.
Bianca joins me, her fingers intertwining with mine under the table. She leans her head on my shoulder and sighs contentedly. "Last night was... something else."
"Yeah," I say quietly, squeezing her hand. "It was."
Alex turns from the stove, scrambling eggs with exaggerated skill. "You know," he says, "I’ve missed this."
"Missed what?" James asks as he sets out plates.
"Us," Alex replies simply. "All of us together."
Bianca nods, her eyes softening as she looks around at us. "I didn’t realize how much I missed it until now."
We eat breakfast in a comfortable silence, broken only by occasional jokes and memories from college days that float to the surface like bubbles in champagne.
As we clear up and prepare to disembark from the yacht later that morning, there's an unspoken understanding between us all—a recognition that this connection we share is unique and worth holding onto.
But now, standing across from that coffee shop window watching Bianca's deflated posture, I'm struck with a pang of regret for pushing her away. Those moments on the yacht were effortless because we let ourselves be vulnerable together. What did we do?
I sigh as I shake myself from the flashback, clenching my fists. Fuck, I miss her. The memory of her warmth against me, the sound of her laugh—it all seems so far away now. But despite my feelings for her and how perfect things were starting to go I know it was the right thing to do. For all of us. Still, seeing her so down tears me apart.
Across the street, Bianca is hunched over the table, her shoulders drooping as if the weight of the world is pressing down on them. She's barely holding it together, her usual confidence nowhere in sight. I remember how she used to light up every room she walked into, commanding attention without even trying. Now, she looks like a shadow of herself, and it kills me to see her this way.
I pull my jacket tighter around me as a breeze rolls in from the ocean. My mind keeps drifting back to that morning on James’s yacht—the way we all felt so right together. But this isn’t college anymore. We’re adults with careers and responsibilities. We couldn’t let ourselves get dragged back into that whirlwind again.
Yet still, here I am, standing across the street, unable to tear my eyes away from her. My heart pounds as so many memories of our past flood back. It's infuriating how she still has this effect on me, how she can make me feel like a lovesick fool without even seeing me. But damn it, I can't help it.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, snapping me out of my trance. I glance at the screen. Alex. Fuck, I'm late.
"Where the hell are you?" he asks, his tone bordering on frantic.
I drag a hand through my hair, stalling. "Got held up with something."
"Something? Liam, we're supposed to be going over the final budget for the hotel. You're twenty minutes late."
"Yeah, yeah, calm down. I'm on my way," I say, though I make no move to leave my spot.
"On your way? Where are you even at?" Alex's irritation is palpable.
I shift my gaze back to Bianca through the window. She’s standing now, her expression tight as she gestures towards some design plans. Her professionalism is impeccable, even though I know she’s barely holding it together.
"I'm just... wrapping up a quick errand," I lie smoothly. "Give me ten more minutes."
Alex sighs heavily. "Ten minutes, Liam. We can't afford delays right now."
"I know," I say. "I’ll be there."
He hangs up without another word. I shove the phone back into my pocket and exhale slowly. My feet remain rooted to the sidewalk, refusing to obey my brain’s command to move.
Watching her struggle to maintain her composure in that damn coffee shop, I realize just how deeply we’ve hurt her—again. The rational part of me screams to walk away and get back to work; this mess isn't worth jeopardizing our business over.
But something stronger roots me in place—the need to protect her, even if from a distance. Bianca deserves better than this tangled web we've woven around her heart.
"Move," I mutter under my breath, trying to break free from this emotional paralysis. But I can't pull myself away.
Instead, I linger, eyes locked on Bianca. She's engrossed in her work, talking animatedly with her colleagues, but there's a weight to her shoulders I can't ignore. It’s like seeing a vibrant painting dulled by time. My heart clenches—an unwelcome reminder of what we had and lost.
Shaking my head, I take a step back, willing myself to turn away. I can't believe I spaced on the meeting with Alex. We’ve got investors waiting, and here I am, standing like an idiot across the street, unable to move.
One last look back at Bianca. Her fingers drum absently on the table. She used to do that when she was nervous or deep in thought. The knowledge of her mannerisms tugs at something inside me.
“Get it together, Liam,” I mutter under my breath.
With a sigh, I stride towards my car, the pavement hard and unforgiving beneath my feet. The salty tang of the ocean hangs in the air, mixing with the faint scent of coffee wafting from the shop. I reach my car and yank open the door, sliding into the driver’s seat.
My phone buzzes again—another text from Alex.
Seriously dude, where are you?
I shoot back a quick reply: On my way. Five minutes.
Starting the engine, I glance once more at the coffee shop through the rearview mirror. Bianca's silhouette fades as I pull into traffic. It’s not like we can just pretend none of this ever happened, but we have to find a way to coexist. For now, professionalism is all we have.
As I drive towards our office building, my mind drifts back to the ease with which we fell back into old rhythms and the promise that seemed to hang between the four of us, and how quickly it all fell apart again.
By the time I reach the office parking lot, Alex is waiting outside, pacing like a caged lion.
“You finally decided to show up,” he says as I step out of the car.
“Got held up,” I reply tersely. “Let’s get this over with.”
He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press further. We walk into the building together, shoulders brushing as we stride down the hallway toward the conference room.
“I saw her,” I admit quietly as we approach the door.
Alex glances at me sideways. “How’d she look?”
“Tired,” I say simply.
He nods but doesn’t comment further. We push through the conference room doors together, putting on our professional faces for another round with investors who only see dollar signs and potential profits.
Inside, it’s all business—the hum of negotiations and discussions filling every corner of my mind except that small part still lingering on Bianca across town.
But that’s where she has to stay for now—across town and out of mind—or at least out of immediate reach until we figure out how to move forward without tearing ourselves apart again.