21. Emma
CHAPTER 21
EMMA
TWO MONTHS LATER
I rush into the café and fling myself down into the seat opposite Liam.
“Hey.” He grins, watching as I catch my breath.
“Hey. I’m sorry I’m late, I ran here straight from work.”
“Take a breath,” he says, watching in amusement. “It’s okay. How’s your day going?”
I smile and shake my head. “Do you remember I was telling you about that one patient, the one who really needs to come in for that blood vessel repair?”
He nods. “I remember.”
“It doesn’t matter how many times we keep telling her she needs to find some time to schedule it,” I groan. “She keeps finding ways to put it off. It’s going to turn into something way more serious if she doesn’t just come in and see us. I don’t understand why she won’t.”
The best part about having conversations like this with Liam is the way he gets it. Phoebe is great, but she can’t understand this pain like Liam can.
“Some people just love to make their own lives difficult,” he says. “There’s nothing you can do if she won’t come.”
“There should be, though,” I say. “I should be able to help.”
He smiles at me across the table, and I find myself reaching for his hand. It makes my heart turn over in my chest when he doesn’t flinch away.
A couple of times a week, at least, we do this — find an overlapping lunch break and meet in this café to eat, or at least drink a strong coffee. It’s been so good to catch up with him, to laugh about our patients and renew that connection that we felt on the island.
The first time we met up, I was so scared that it was going to be a disaster, that all we had felt in the hotel was a fluke cooked up from stress and proximity. But it wasn’t. We slipped back into our teasing and closeness as easily as you would an old friend.
I even managed to find time to go back to his place after.
To my relief, the passion was as strong as it ever was.
We haven’t had as much close, intimate time as I might have liked, but the evening meals and the one a.m. fast food joints and morning coffees have all been exhilarating. I have the best friend in the world in Phoebe and I’d give her up for nothing, but I’ve never had a relationship like Liam.
All the other boys who were ever into me wanted me to be something I’m not, someone meek and domestic, someone who would dote on them and give up my ambitions when I was told to. I’m not that kind of girl.
I have ambitions, and I’m not letting some man’s idea of what I should be stop me from achieving them. And Liam doesn’t. He wants me to succeed, too.
As I always do, that night I report to Phoebe.
She’s really waddling around now, her belly huge and round as her baby kicks and rolls inside her, ready to be released into the world. I’m so excited for it to happen. I’m so excited to be with her every step of the way.
As for Phoebe, she’s excited for it to be over. Well, the pregnancy part, anyway. She’s exhausted all the time and constantly complains that she aches. I’m doing everything I can to ease her pains, but the only thing that will really work is to birth this baby.
“I just can’t believe it’s still going this well,” I say, sinking back into her sofa. “It feels like one of those things that only happens to people in stories. Oh, I met this guy on a vacation and now we’re going steady!”
“Are you going steady?” Phoebe asks. She’s got her lawyer look on, the one that pierces through everything I say to try and trip me up into confessing the truth.
“I think so. We’ve met a couple of times a week ever since we got back, at least for a coffee, and I’ve been over to his a few times. You know this, though, don’t you?”
“I do. I just want to make sure that everything really is going well. It’s great for you to sit here and say that it’s a whirlwind, but all I want is for you to be happy.”
I smile and exhale, leaning over to take Phoebe’s hand and squeeze it. “You really are the best friend in the world.”
She grins. “I told you I’d find you a man, didn’t I? If we had bet on it, you’d owe me a fortune now.”
“Assuming I’d ever bet against you.”
She throws up her hands, conceding to my point. Then I sigh. I do have something to confess to her.
“The only thing I’m… I don’t know. I guess, worried about, is he doesn’t seem to want to commit.”
“That’s men for you,” scoffs Phoebe. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”
I’m still thinking about that first night, the one where Liam told me he didn’t want anything serious. We haven’t revisited that chat yet, and I haven’t wanted to be the one to bring it up.
“You think he is serious about us, then?”
Phoebe fixes me with a probing look. “If he wasn’t, do you think he’d keep on saying yes to meeting you?”
“Maybe he’s bored, or lonely,” I say.
“If he was bored or lonely, he wouldn’t be doing lunch dates with you. You’d be skipping right to the go to his place part.”
I lean over to smack her playfully in the arm. “Phoebe! You can’t say things like that!”
She shakes her head and pulls me into her arms, or at least tries to. “Damn belly getting in the way all the time.” She sighs.
“You’ll pop soon enough,” I say. “Then you’ll just have to deal with screaming and diapers and insomnia.”
“I can’t wait,” she says through gritted teeth. “At least I’ll have your wedding bells to look forward to.”
“We are not getting married,” I say firmly, despite the wavering inside my heart.
Again, Phoebe fixes me with a look. “Not yet, but maybe one day…?”
I sigh. What can I say to that? That I’ve been thinking about it? That I have had dreams about it?
Because I have. And I know that Liam doesn’t want that. At least, he’s never shown any interest in it. Phoebe may be right that it’s early days, that our meetings have been fun and our nights have been fantastic, but now that we’re a couple months in, I’m afraid to ask him for more. I’d rather keep what we have than ruin it by trying to pressure him into something he doesn’t want.
Except, I’ll never know what he wants if he won’t tell me.
“Maybe one day,” I concede. “Not yet, maybe not even soon. But I like him. I really like him. And we just click, you know? We shouldn’t because we’re pretty different, but our work ethic is the same and that matters.”
“Yes, I remember Chris, not to be confused with Matt or Damien,” laughs Phoebe.
I flinch at the memory. Chris was my last serious boyfriend, and Phoebe hated him. In the end she was right. He was the kind of guy who wanted me to dote on him and didn’t like how hard I worked. He wanted babies and a white wedding, and it got way too intense way too fast.
I should be glad that Liam isn’t like that. Taking it slow isn’t such a bad thing.
“Exactly. But this feels different. It really does. I don’t want to speak too soon or curse it or whatever, but I think this could be something. For real. This could be it.”
I’m expecting Phoebe to tease me, but she doesn’t. She just smiles at me, her eyes full of that warmth that has always made me feel safe. “I hope so. For your sake, I hope so.”
“Me too,” I say, confessing something I’ve barely dared to confess to myself.
Phoebe turns to me and takes my hands, squeezing them tightly. “I need you to promise me right now that you won’t even think about planning your wedding without telling me.”
“Are you kidding?” I scoff. “You’ll be my number-one advisor. I don’t know anything about this stuff! You’re the one who knows how to make things pretty and perfect.”
“I cannot wait to be pretty and perfect again.”
I roll my eyes. “You already are, dummy. You’re glowing .”
“Glowing? Tell me that when I’m puking.”
We dissolve into giggles, and Phoebe starts telling me about all the things she can’t wait to do when she stops being the size of a small whale. I tell her off for the comment, but we’re on a roll and can’t stop laughing.
It’s a weight off my shoulders, because I’ve been worrying about Liam for days now. But here, laughing with Phoebe — it makes me believe that love is possible. I have it right here in front of me.
I might have a future with Liam too.