Sunny
“I thought I was doing what was best for everyone,” she admitted, the words spilling out now as she paced a tight circle in the small kitchen area.
“I thought by leaving, I was protecting what mattered most — the girls’ stability, your career.
But I’ve been miserable, Liam.” Her fingers twisted the hem of her sweater, stretching the fabric.
“I’ve been sitting here in this cabin staring at the walls, replaying everything that happened, wondering if I did the right thing. Second-guessing every decision.”
Her pacing stopped, and she turned to face him fully. “I barely sleep. I can’t eat. I keep hearing Hailey calling my name as I walked out the door. I keep seeing Maddie’s face.” Her voice fractured on the name. “I miss them so much it’s like a physical pain. I miss you.”
Liam closed the remaining distance between them, cautiously, as if approaching a wounded animal.
When she didn’t back away, he gently, reverently, cupped her face in his hands, his touch feather-light.
His palms were warm against her cheeks, slightly rough with calluses from years of handling hockey sticks.
“Then come home,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “Come home to us.”
Home. The word resonated through Sunny like a struck bell.
But doubt still lingered, a shadow over her hope. She stepped back, breaking the contact between them. His hands dropped to his sides, but his gaze remained steady on hers.
“What happens when it gets hard again?” she asked, her voice gaining strength as she voiced the fear that had been gnawing at her since he arrived.
“When there’s another crisis, another ultimatum?
How do I know you won’t push me away a second time?
” Each question emerged more pointed than the last, months of insecurity distilled into piercing doubts.
It was a fair question, and Liam seemed to recognize that. He didn’t rush to reassure her with platitudes or empty promises. Instead, he stepped back, giving her the space she’d silently requested, and considered her words with the seriousness they deserved.
“I can’t promise we won’t face challenges,” he said finally.
“Life is going to throw things at us that we can’t anticipate.
” He paused, his gaze drifting momentarily to Betty Bear, then back to Sunny.
“But I can promise that I’ve learnt my lesson.
I know now what matters most. And I will never again let fear drive my decisions — especially not fear of losing you.
Because the irony is, that fear led me to lose you anyway. ”
Sunny wrapped her arms around herself again, her nostrils flaring slightly as she took measured breaths.
She wanted so badly to believe him. To accept the future he was offering.
But five days of solitary anguish — preceded by months of building a life only to have it crumble — had left walls that couldn’t be demolished in a single conversation, no matter how sincere.
“The girls—” she began, but Liam was already nodding.
“They made me promise to bring you home,” he said, a small smile touching his lips. “Maddie even said — and I’m quoting here — ‘Don’t come back without her, Daddy. That’s final.’”
Despite everything, a laugh bubbled up from Sunny’s chest, surprising her with its authenticity. “She didn’t?”
“She did,” Liam confirmed, his smile widening at the sound of Sunny’s laughter. “My six-year-old, laying down the law. She gets that from her mother.”
The mention of Kate would have once frozen the moment, introduced an uncomfortable tension. But now, it felt natural — an acknowledgment of the past that had shaped them all, rather than a barrier between them.
A particularly loud crash of thunder shook the cabin, making them both jump slightly. The storm was directly overhead now, rain lashing against the windows in sheets.
“You should stay,” Sunny heard herself say, surprising them both. “At least until the storm passes. It’s not safe to drive in this.”
Hope flickered across Liam’s face, evident in the slight widening of his eyes, the almost imperceptible straightening of his posture. “Does that mean…”
“It means I’m thinking,” Sunny clarified, though the edge had gone from her voice.
She moved to the living area, putting the coffee table between them.
“It means I’m listening. It means…” she trailed off, searching for the right words.
“It means I care too much about you — about all of you — to make a hasty decision either way.”
Liam nodded, respect evident in his gaze. “I understand. Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
Sunny moved to the small kitchen area, needing space to collect her thoughts, to process the whirlwind of emotions his arrival had stirred. “Are you hungry? I was about to make dinner when you arrived.”
“Starving,” Liam admitted, following her movement with his eyes. “I haven’t really eaten since… well, since you left.”
The confession twisted something in Sunny’s chest. She opened the small refrigerator, surveying its meager contents. “I don’t have much — some pasta, eggs, a bit of cheese.”
“Sounds perfect,” Liam said, and she could hear the smile in his voice without turning to look.
As Sunny began gathering ingredients, a comfortable silence settled between them — not the charged, painful silence of their separation, but something softer, more familiar.
The sound of the rain, the gentle crackle of the fire, the rhythmic chopping of Sunny’s knife against the cutting board — it all wove together into a domestic moment that felt both ordinary and precious.
“Let me help,” Liam offered, moving to stand beside her. He had removed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves, revealing forearms corded with muscle. The sight of him, so at home in her temporary kitchen, sent a different kind of warmth through Sunny.
“You can grate the cheese,” she suggested, handing him the small block of Parmesan and a grater. Their fingers brushed in the exchange, and she pulled back as if burned, the simple contact sending an electric current up her arm.
They worked in tandem, moving around each other in the small space with an intuitive choreography they’d developed during months of shared meal preparations at the Anderson house.
There was comfort in the familiar routine, in knowing exactly when to step aside to let the other pass, when to hand over an ingredient without being asked.
“I missed this,” Liam said quietly, breaking the silence as he finished his task. “Cooking with you. The way we just… fit together. In the kitchen and everywhere else.”
Sunny looked up, meeting his gaze directly.
She opened her mouth to respond, but the words died on her lips as another crash of thunder rattled the windows.
A sharp crack of lightning split the sky outside, followed immediately by a deafening clap.
The lights in the cabin flickered once, twice, and then went out, plunging them into darkness broken only by the glow of the fireplace.
“Perfect timing,” Liam muttered, a hint of his old wry humor returning.
Despite everything, Sunny laughed — a genuine, spontaneous sound. “The universe has a sense of dramatic timing, apparently.”
In the firelight, Liam’s face was a study in shadows and warmth, his eyes reflecting the dancing flames. He looked both vulnerable and strong, uncertain and resolute.
“Before the lights went out, I was going to tell you something,” he said softly, hesitation evident in his voice. “Something important.”
Sunny set down the wooden spoon she’d been holding, giving him her full attention. The darkness somehow made it easier, creating a pocket of intimacy in the storm-surrounded cabin.
“Before everything fell apart,” Liam continued, “before I made the worst mistake of my life, I asked you a question. Do you remember?”
Sunny’s breath caught. Of course she remembered. In the aftermath of discovering she was pregnant, in that brief window of joy before the loss, Liam had asked her to marry him. The memory had been both sweet and painful to recall during their separation.
“I remember,” she whispered, her fingers finding the edge of the counter, gripping it for support.
“I meant it then,” Liam said, his voice low and fervent. “And I mean it now, even more. I want to marry you, Sunny. I want to build a life with you. A family. Not because of obligation or circumstance, but because I love you. Because I can’t imagine my life — our lives — without you in it.”
The declaration hung in the air between them, honest and unadorned. No grand speeches, no elaborate promises — just the simple, profound truth of his feelings.
Sunny sucked in a sharp breath, the sound audible in the quiet cabin.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her pulse racing so fast she could feel it in her fingertips, her throat, her temples.
This was what she had wanted, what she had dreamed of during those lonely nights away — and yet now that it was offered, fear clawed at her insides.
“I can’t answer that,” she said finally, her voice trembling. “Not now. Not when everything is still so…”
“Raw,” Liam supplied, understanding in his tone. “I know. I’m not asking for an answer now. I just needed you to know where I stand. That my feelings haven’t changed. That if anything, they’ve only grown stronger in your absence.”
Sunny moved toward the fire, drawn to its light and heat as much as to the need to organize her swirling thoughts. She sank onto the small sofa, the same spot where Betty Bear had been propped just hours ago — before her world had once again been turned upside down by Liam Anderson.
After a moment’s hesitation, Liam joined her, careful to maintain a respectful distance. The firelight played across his features, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, the furrow between his brows that appeared when he was worried — which was often.