Chapter 2
Taking advantage of the respite from the rain, Liam Gallagher stood at the edge of his property perched high above the sea. The sea breeze ruffled his dark hair as he stared out over the crashing waves. He had painted these waters a thousand times, but today, they seemed different—restless, as if they sensed the storm of emotions brewing in his chest.
He was back, and so was she.
Sophie O’Brian.
The one person who had shaped his life in ways he could never put on canvas. His best friend. His first love. The woman he had let go, believing they were doing the right thing, only to spend the last twenty years regretting it.
Liam had thought he was making the practical choice when they ended things. He had been twenty-three, young and foolish, ready to chase dreams in Paris, while Sophie was building a life in Massachusetts, splitting her time between business school and her parents’ pub.
They had parted on good terms, promising to always be friends, but life had a way of unraveling even the best intentions. The calls grew less frequent, the messages shorter, until one day, silence had settled between them. And then she married, and he’d told himself that she had found the life she wanted and to be happy for her.
He had failed. So much for being practical.
Suddenly, a boom of thunder shook the mountain beneath his feet, forcing him to head indoors. Liam ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. He turned from the sea, making his way back toward the stone cottage he now called home. For years it served as his retreat, a sanctuary where he could create, away from the chaos of the art world. He had built a name for himself, his sculptures sought after by collectors and galleries, his name whispered in the same breath as the greats. And yet, none of it had ever filled the void left by her.
Now, Sophie was back in Ireland, divorced, running a pub with her twin brother, and from what Keefe had let slip, she had been through hell. Liam didn’t know the details, but he knew enough. Her marriage had been a disaster, her divorce worse.
And that’s why Liam was here: to get her back. To right the wrong they had made all those years ago.
He didn’t know if she was ready. Maybe she never would be. But he would not let her slip away again, not without a fight. At the very least, he was going to be her friend again and if that was all she could give, he would take it.
The wooden deck creaked beneath his boots as he stepped inside. The fire crackled in the hearth, filling the house with warmth, but he barely noticed. His thoughts were too tangled, too consumed with memories of Sophie—her laughter, her sharp wit, the way she used to challenge him, make him believe in things he never dared to before. It was only with her encouragement that he applied to the art school in Paris. The fact was that if he hadn’t taken her advice, he wouldn’t be where he was today.
He was removing his shoes when the phone rang.
The sound cut through the quiet, sharp and insistent.
Liam hesitated.
Something about the timing sent a prickle down his spine.
Pushing the thought aside, he strode across the room and reached for the phone.