Chapter Twenty-Three ZOE
Chapter Twenty-Three
Z OE
The rest of the day seemed to conspire against us.
Not that any sort of meaningful conversation could happen with Mira running around in the same room. I had a client call me shortly after we returned home from the therapist’s office, prompting me to dig out my laptop so we could discuss how to categorize some of his spending.
Liam stayed with Mira in the playroom so I could have some quiet.
By the time I was finished, he’d received a call from his quarterback, Trey, about some last-minute drills. Training camp was just around the corner, he said by way of explanation. That meant extra eyes on them.
He changed into practice gear. His shirt bore a small Denver logo on the chest, and he wore a black hat turned backward on his head.
“Probably won’t be home until after dinner,” he said quietly.
As Mira hugged his legs, I smiled. “I’ll save you a plate.”
The line of Liam’s throat revealed a heavy swallow when he ruffled her hair. “I’ll be back soon, duck. Maybe you could practice your big-girl kicks in the pool with Zoe?”
But she buried her face into his thighs and shook her head vehemently.
I exhaled a soft laugh.
His gaze locked onto my mouth, then slowly lifted higher. “I’ll see you later, then.”
As I nodded, I tried to keep the heartbreak from my eyes, but it seemed like an impossible task. The last thing Liam would want was my pity.
I didn’t pity him. But I couldn’t help my natural reaction to imagining him as that young boy either.
“No wonder,” I murmured as I watched him get into his car, slam the door with a mighty heave, and rest his head back against the seat for a moment.
It all made so much sense now that I had the last piece of the puzzle snapped into place. His absolute terror at the beginning. His reticence toward getting close to either of us.
Liam would have done anything to make sure history didn’t repeat itself. He’d even built an unscalable wall that no one could attempt to climb.
I kept thinking about it in the hours he was gone. Kept thinking about what I might’ve said if we’d been alone in that moment.
I’d simply need to add it to my list of questions that might never be answered. It was something I might ponder in the middle of the night. My curiosity rode a knife’s edge, but I knew he’d only sate that curiosity if he felt safe enough to talk through it. More than anything, I wanted to wrap him in my arms and tell him a thousand times—a million times—that I trusted him. That we felt safe with him.
But I wasn’t sure that would be enough.
All day, I replayed his face, his words, the tense way he’d held his body as he delivered them. Something he’d said niggled at the back of my head, and I pulled out my laptop, then carefully typed “Liam Davies father” into a search engine.
Numerous articles popped up immediately, along with pictures of an older man who looked so much like Liam that I exhaled in a sharp gust. I scrolled, picking up on a few key details that locked everything into place.
His dad was an athlete too. There were older pictures, older articles talking about wins and losses and promotions and relegations related to a British football team. He wasn’t quite as large as Liam, but the fierce look on his face was stunningly similar to that of the man I’d known for a decade.
I covered my mouth as I read, trying to imagine a young boy making peace with something of this magnitude. A man revered by so many because of his talents on the field was a complete nightmare at home. Coaches would esteem someone like Liam simply because of that connection, never knowing what it did to his young brain to be constantly held up in comparison.
My eyes lingered on an article about Liam during his college days. There was a mention of his famous footballer father, the writer making it very clear where he got his strength and speed and determination, and I had to rub at my sternum to quell the growing ache.
Slowly, I closed my laptop and pushed it away with a sigh.
Mira and I stayed busy. We went for a walk through the neighborhood, and while she took her postlunch nap, I ignored the fact that I had work to do and decided instead on some self-care in the form of a small nap of my own and a sinfully long shower afterward.
We ordered pizza for dinner because the entire day felt so heavy with anticipation that it was hard for me to focus on anything.
I hadn’t touched my phone in hours, and as we finished eating, I stared at where it lay face down on the counter. I didn’t flip it over until Mira was done and I’d cleared our dishes. My eyes quickly scanned the messages waiting for me.
One from my mom.
Mom: How did the session go this morning? I’m off tomorrow if you want to call.
The temptation to call her and process all of this was strong. My entire life, I’d done that. I’d learned that having someone to listen to what lay between the lines was crucial.
But there was a stronger impulse gnawing away at that one.
I found myself wanting to protect what Liam had told me. It wasn’t fodder for anyone’s consumption. Not even hers. For now, I ignored her text.
There was one from Rosa.
Rosa: Martha picked an alien romance for next month. Not sure how I feel about tentacles, but I’m nothing if not open minded. You in?
I smiled and told her I’d let her know.
The third had my brow furrowing a little.
Tyler: I found something of yours when I was cleaning out a closet. Let me know if you’re home later. I can drop it off.
I didn’t have the mental bandwidth to touch that one, so I sighed and swiped out of the message.
The last one was from Rochelle.
Rochelle: Let me know if you want to join us for training camp! It’s one of my favorite parts of the year. You and Mira should be there.
I tapped out my reply carefully.
Me: I’ll talk to Liam. He hasn’t mentioned anything about it yet.
Rochelle: Trust me, he’ll want you there.
I pinched my eyes shut and fought the churning sense of unrest in my gut. It wouldn’t have shocked me if Liam wanted to hide for the next month after what he’d admitted this morning. He could hardly look at me before he sped out the door for training.
There was no other choice but to compartmentalize all of it. Tuck it away in a safe place, locked tight, even if I was the one not allowed to poke at it.
Understanding often came at a heavy price. And you didn’t always know what that price was until you were forced to pay it. It didn’t really matter if you were talking about understanding a person or a situation.
Understanding grief came saddled with the loss. You couldn’t extricate one from the other.
Understanding what it was like to become a parent came with an irrevocable shift in your entire world. No one could adequately prepare you before it happened, no matter how hard they tried.
Understanding the fears that made up someone’s foundation came only when they were at their most vulnerable. The hardest part came next. Once you knew ... you had to decide if you could handle those fears or if they were too much for you.
Liam knew mine, but it wasn’t a fair comparison. The groundwork of my fears didn’t hold nearly the same consequences as his did. I didn’t have to face them every time I looked in a mirror.
Mira begged to watch her movie while I cleaned up the kitchen, so I turned it on in the playroom before wiping down the counters, then sliding the leftover pizza slices onto plates and setting them in the fridge for Liam.
Not that he’d eat them. Based on the state of his abs, the man hadn’t touched pizza in a decade.
I set my hand on my fluttering belly because I did not need to think about the muscles anywhere on his body. Those were a distraction.
But, then again, everything I’d done in his absence was a distraction. There were no decisions to be made when it was just me doing the thinking. All I could do was wait until we could talk.
Talk without the help of whiskey or a therapist or kissing with wandering hands.
The sound of the door opening had me blowing out a slow breath.
Liam looked tired when he tossed his bag down onto the kitchen floor. He was in different clothes than when he’d left, his hair still dark and damp from a shower. “Where’s the little bit?”
I nodded toward the playroom. “Watching her movie.”
One side of his lips hooked up. “How many times you think she’s seen it?”
“A hundred at this point, if not more.”
Liam rubbed the back of his neck, wincing as he pressed against the muscles there. “ I’ve watched it at least that many times. She’s got to be rounding closer to five hundred.”
“Your neck okay?” I asked.
He grunted. “Didn’t take the time for them to work on me after we practiced.”
I leaned up against the counter and watched him fill a glass with water. “I’d offer to help, but ...” My voice trailed off. “I have a feeling I know what you’ll say.”
Liam gave me a wry look. “Probably not the best idea, yeah?”
I sucked in a quick breath and prayed for some courage. “I liked what happened last night when you helped me.”
At my answer, Liam’s eyes burned into mine. He didn’t drink his water, and he didn’t move from where he stood.
“Did you?” he asked, voice low and intensely charged.
Slowly, I nodded. As I did, I took a few steps closer to him, and he watched warily.
“I think you did too,” I told him. “You just don’t know what to do with it.”
He exhaled a soft puff of air. It was an incredulous sound. “Jumping right into this, are you?”
“I don’t know any other way to do it, Liam.” I raised my shoulders in a slight shrug. “We certainly can’t pretend it didn’t happen. I can’t, at least.” My gaze stayed locked on his. “Can you?”
There was a moment of quiet, and judging by the look on his face, he was trying to decide how to reply.
Without a single word, his eyes on mine, he let the silence stretch.
I opened my mouth to say something, and my phone dinged with an unfamiliar tone.
Blowing out an exasperated breath, I snatched it off the counter and let out a surprised “Oh.”
“What is it?”
There was a nerve-laden brick lodged in my throat, and I attempted to swallow past it. “My doorbell,” I said quietly. As I stared at the app, Tyler’s clearly nervous face came into view.
I couldn’t help it—I started laughing. Settling a hand over my face, I tried desperately to get myself under control, but it felt like some giant cosmic joke.
At the actual moment when Liam and I had started making some headway, one of those reminders from my past decided to physically show up at my door.
Liam didn’t ask who it was; he simply watched me.
I let out a deep, slow breath and pressed the button on the app so I could talk to the person on the other side. “Hey, Tyler,” I said.
Liam’s gaze sharpened, his throat working a visible swallow, his chin notching higher. A slightly defensive gesture.
Tyler leaned in toward the camera. “Hey. I’m sorry to drop by unannounced, but I found your sweatshirt. The one with the holes in the sleeves that you loved. Figured you’d want it back.”
Liam’s eyes—bright with curiosity and something much deeper—refused to drop from mine. Every inch of my skin burned from the heat in his look.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “I’m not there at the moment—”
“Go over there,” Liam interjected.
My hand released the button. “What?”
“Go talk to the man.” There was no malice in his tone. No nasty, jealous tinge in his eyes. If anything, Liam looked calmer than I’d ever seen him. “You said you never got closure, yeah?”
I nodded.
“So go fucking get it.” There was a charged urgency in his tone that had my pulse racing.
Why? I almost asked.
“Go,” he repeated before I could.
I blinked down at the floor a few times, and with a slight shake of my head, I pressed the button again. “I’ll be over in a minute, Tyler. Hang on.”
In the pixelated shot from the camera, he exhaled in visible relief.
Guilt tore at my insides. Maybe he really did just want to drop off a sweatshirt, but if Tyler was relieved for any other reason, he was about to be disappointed.
Staring down at the floor was easier, because if I looked Liam in the eyes again, I might not go. I wasn’t going to ask if this was some weird man test, because he wasn’t the type to play games. And if he was, I’d probably feel less inclined to have his tongue in my mouth and his hands in my pants. I’d feel zero desire to hand him my heart.
Mira came hurtling down the hallway, running full speed at Liam. “You home!” she yelled.
He swung her up in his arms, his face softening. “Got you something.”
She wiggled excitedly. “I get a present?”
He hummed, tucking a hand into the side pocket of his gym bag. “It’s a special one. You can only use it one place.”
Mira started tugging on his arm. “Where is it?”
With a soft chuckle, he pulled his hand from the bag. Mira’s eyes widened, and I couldn’t help my smile.
It was a rubber duck painted with the British flag.
I vacillated wildly between wanting to hug him, wanting to kiss him, and wanting to tear his clothes off. Maybe all three in rapid succession.
Mira’s eyes sparkled. “It’s blue,” she whispered. “It’s so pretty.”
“You know what ducks do when it’s really bloody hot out?”
“What?”
Liam leaned in. “They go swimming. That’s your pool duck, and if you want to play with it, you gotta get in. Go put your suit on.”
He blew a raspberry on her neck, eliciting giggles as he set her down.
“Zoe swimmin’ too?” she asked.
Liam glanced over at me.
“I have to go next door. I’ll be back soon.”
She zoomed off to her room to change, and I exhaled a wondering laugh. “A pool duck,” I said quietly. “Genius.”
He grunted. “Should’ve thought of it sooner.” His eyes met mine. “Don’t you have to go?”
Slowly, I nodded.
Liam didn’t say anything else as I left. Neither did I.
The cord of tension between us had steadily grown and grown, thickened dramatically by the kiss and jerked tight after this morning in Carol’s office. It felt impossible that this cord had enough slack for me to go next door and do whatever it was he was encouraging me to do.
I didn’t walk through the back of the house, deciding instead to cross the front yard.
Tyler was sitting on the step, his smile friendly as I approached. “Good to see you,” he said.
“You too.” I studied him as he straightened. He was so nice. Always had been. His blue eyes were friendly, his manner polite and sweet.
“You staying there?” he asked, tilting his head toward the house next door.
I nodded. “I have been for a while. Mira is more comfortable there,” I said. “And it’s easier with both of us under one roof.”
“Makes sense.” He blew out a slow breath, studying the navy-blue sweatshirt in his hand before carefully handing it back.
The letters on the back of the sweatshirt were the only visible part, and my heart wrenched with a painful thump when I brushed my thumb over them.
A lot of things made sense now, had been made clearer by the passage of time. Circumstances that I had no control over. And some that I did. Changes that had happened so slowly I’d hardly noticed them.
Thoughts tumbled around in my head. But this wasn’t the person I wanted to talk through them with.
That person was next door, in the pool with a plastic duck that he’d bought to make it easier for our little girl to learn how to swim.
“Thank you, Tyler,” I said quietly. I smiled up into his face. “You have no idea how much I needed this.”