Chapter 20
CHAPTER
TWENTY
Alie
It’s been seventy-two hours since I’ve seen or heard from Liam. And today is my birthday, which I pretty much forgot, which says a lot about my mental state.
But my sister and parents didn’t forget. They brought in lunch for me today, and we had a small cake in one of the conference rooms, just the five of us.
When I get back to my office from taking Sera to the nursery, my sister is waiting on the couch.
“What are you still doing up here?”
“We’re going out tonight,” she declares. “I’m not letting you sit on your couch, alone, on your birthday.”
I shake my head. “Nope. No, I’m not at all in the mood for going, Pres.”
“Too bad,” she cuts in. “You need a night out so you’re not overthinking every life choice you’ve ever made.”
“I have a toddler.”
“Already taken care of. Mom and Dad are going to watch her so we can go out.”
I drop my head back and groan, “I can’t believe you basically kidnapped my child.”
“Pfft. Kidnapped? She’s thrilled to spend the night at Mom and Dad’s. They spoil her rotten.”
It’s true, but still.
“Come on. Finish up your day, and let’s get out of here.” She stands and claps twice.
“You know, you’re really annoying sometimes.”
“Oh, and wear that little plum-colored slip dress tonight.”
“And you’re telling me how to dress?”
She waves as she walks out, so I give her the finger, and her laugh rings out all the way down the hall.
By the time we reach the bar downtown, the music is loud, the lights are warm, and the atmosphere is a pleasant surprise.
Presley invited a few of our friends to come with us tonight. Blair and Willow grew up with us, and they are also sisters. They’re fun to hang out with from time to time, but they can be a lot.
My sister tells us a story about catching two of the equipment managers going at it in a storage room, and I can’t help but laugh.
Drinks flow, and Presley orders another round of shots. One of them has a birthday candle sitting in whipped cream, and everyone around sings “Happy Birthday.” I’m mildly embarrassed, but I’ll admit that I’m having a good time.
And slowly … I feel like I can release the breath I think I’ve been holding since Liam got to New York.
I laugh and dance with my sister and our friends. I let myself exist for a moment outside the bubble of being a mom, and all the weight of Liam and the what-ifs.
By drink number three, I’m not exactly drunk. But definitely tipsy enough that my emotions are sitting a little too close to the surface.
Presley leans in when we get back to the table from the bar. “Have you talked to him?”
“Who?”
“Liam, dummy.”
I shake my head. “No. And I also texted Aaron and told him about Liam’s reaction, and he’s not responding. I thought about calling him, but honestly, I just don’t know if I can hear his explanation right now.”
“Ugh.” She rolls her eyes. “I can’t even tell you how pissed off I am at Aaron. Do you want to know what I think?”
I raise my eyebrow. “I don’t know, do I?”
“Of course you do.” She brushes her long hair over her shoulder. “I think Aaron’s in love with you. And I think he thought he’d just … get Liam out of the way and pretend to be the hero.”
I shake my head. “No, he’s not in love with me. We’re just friends.”
At least that’s what I’m telling myself because if I even consider what she’s saying to be true, I’ve been betrayed by my best friend in the worst possible way.
“I’m right, Al.” She nods. “But I think you should talk to Liam.”
“I texted him, and he didn’t reply.”
“When?”
“The day it happened.” I lift a shoulder.
“Aliette Grant. Once?”
“Yeah. And he’s definitely avoiding me at the complex. I know he’s been there, but it’s like he slips in and out before anyone can see him.”
“I’ve seen him.” She smirks.
“Well then, maybe you should talk to him.”
She just laughs at the edge in my tone.
“Seriously though, do you want to talk to him?” She watches me carefully.
I stare at my glass.
“Yes … ” I answer before I can even stop myself.
Because the truth is, I don’t want things to end like this. With him walking out of my office, angry.
I don’t want a bitter, contentious relationship with him. It wouldn’t be good for Sera, and it wouldn’t be good for the team.
I want to know that I tried. And I don’t want Sera’s father to be someone I never fought for. At least to see if we could make something work. Even if it’s just between them.
I set my glass down and take a deep breath.
“I think … I need some air.” I slide out of the booth.
“Alie … ” Presley eyes me.
“I’m fine,” I assure her. “I just need some air. Go dance with the girls. I’ll come find you when I come back inside.”
I give her a faint smile, then turn and walk away. I can feel her eyes on me as I go.
And the minute I step outside, I already know where I’m going.
The ride to his apartment is a blur, and before I know it, I’m standing in front of his building.
When I walk in, there’s a doorman sitting at a desk.
“Hi.” I clear my throat. “I’m here to see Liam Pitz.”
“Your name?”
“Alie Grant.”
He picks up the phone and dials.
“Mr. Pitz, there’s an Alie Grant here to see you.” He pauses. “Yes, sir, I’ll send her up.”
“Thank you.” I nod when he gestures toward the elevator.
On my way up to his floor, I think about what I’m going to say to him, and before I can put any thoughts together, I’m standing in front of his door.
My heart is hammering, my nerves buzzing from the alcohol and all the angst from the last few days.
Then the elevator door opens, and Liam is standing in his doorway, wearing gym shorts low on his hips, no shirt, and bare feet. His hair is slightly messy, like he’s been running his hands through it.
Christ on a cracker. He is gorgeous. Without even freaking trying. His brows lift high on his forehead, then draw together, confusion chasing the shock. His chest stills mid-breath.
Like he forgot how to inhale.
“Alie?”
“Hi,” I say, a little breathless.
“You’re … here.”
He studies me carefully, eyes squinting as they roam over my body.
I step out of the elevator.
“Have you been drinking?”
“Just a little.”
I shift on my feet, starting to feel uncomfortable under his stare.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have come,” I say and start to turn.
“Alie.” He grabs my arm to stop me.
When I look at him, his jaw tightens.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. “A few days ago, I thought you were the bad guy. I’m not entirely sure how it all happened the way it did, but I know from the sheer look on your face that I was wrong.
I know I hurt you. I hate that I let my fears dictate what I thought about you that morning I left.
I hate that I didn’t have the courage to tell you about the pregnancy myself.
I hate that I trusted Aaron with the most important phone call of my life.
I hate that I didn’t give us a chance. But mostly, I really hate that the first moment you saw her was like … that.”
His expression shifts; anger still lingers, but there’s something softer underneath.
“I didn’t come here to fight.” I hang my head. “You didn’t answer my text, and I just needed to see you. I …” I swallow, knowing that I’ve had too much to drink and I’m laying myself bare, but I don’t care. “I needed to be with you.”
I hear him exhale slowly, long and controlled, like he’s forcing the air out of his lungs. His shoulders rise and fall with it, and his jaw shifts to the side, muscle ticcing, but his eyes never leave mine.
Like everything, he’s thinking is pressing against the inside of his ribs, and he’s determined not to let it spill out too fast.
“You showing up here tipsy and in this tiny dress isn’t exactly helping.”
I blink up at him. “You like my dress?” My teeth skim my bottom lip as I look up at him. “That’s good to know because it’s my birthday, and I’m pretty sure bad decisions are allowed.”
“It’s your birthday?” he asks, surprised.
I look up at him and nod.
He looks away from me, dragging in a deep breath through his nose. When he finally looks back at me, his eyes are darker. Focused. No longer surprised—just intensely aware.
“Come inside,” he says quietly.
I walk in and look around. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it’s clean and simple. And then I see them on the counter. The ornaments we got from the street vendor from our night together.
I pick up the apple ornament, letting it spin on the string.
“You kept these?”
He doesn’t answer right away, so I look up at him, still holding the ornament like it’s a prize. His hands are on his hips, and his head is down.
“You had a souvenir from that night. These are mine.”
He walks past me toward the couch and sits down heavily.
I stay where I am, not really sure where to go.
“A few days ago, you might have thought I was the bad guy, but a few days ago, I was still reeling from losing the woman of my dreams. I’d been thinking about you, wondering where you’d been.
The last thing I’d have ever believed was that you had my baby.
So, although you showed up here, looking like sin in a dress …
I can’t stop thinking about what I missed.
Two years, Alie.” He leans forward and props his elbows on his knees. “I missed two years.”
My chest tightens. “I know.”
“I should have been there.”
I set the ornament down and take a step toward him. “I know.”
“I don’t even know what her favorite food is. Or her favorite color. What makes her happy … ”
My throat tightens, thick and sudden. “Strawberries and dinosaur mac n’ cheese. Her favorite color is blue, but she always asks for things that are pink.”
He lets out a shaky breath. “I’m so fucking angry with you, Alie.”
“I know.”
“But I’m also”—he pauses—“fucking terrified.”
“Of what?”
“How much I already care for a little girl I don’t even know.”
That hits me straight in the heart.
“If I could do this differently, I would. But I can’t, and I have to live with that.” I sniff, pressing my fingers to the corner of my eye before anything spills over.