Chapter 35 The Lying Bastard
thirty-five
the lying bastard
Maya
How could I have let myself trust that lying bastard? You’re such an idiot, Maya. You should have known better. Letting Liam into my life had been a mistake. A horrible mistake. And letting him into my bed was worse, no matter how good it felt. Ugh, how could I have been such an idiot?
Even Greg hadn’t known Liam had left. He’d come in earlier to get the next Hot Dudes book and had gotten an earful from me instead. He’d volunteered to go ask the Pattersons if they knew anything, and I’d been waiting here impatiently ever since.
“He checked out,” Greg said matter-of-factly the instant he burst through the door. “Early this morning.”
My heart dropped as the full extent of Liam’s betrayal sank in. Despite everything, I still held onto a tiny sliver of hope that he hadn’t actually disappeared. “That bastard.”
Greg patted my shoulder awkwardly. “I’m sure he had a good reason.”
I barked a bitter laugh. “Right. Like what?” Shaking my head, I said, “Never mind.” I didn’t need him to answer, because I already knew what this was.
It was the start of another three-year absence, where he couldn’t find it in his icy heart to visit his aging grandmother.
“We’ve gotten by fine without him for the last few years, and we’ll continue to be fine in the future. ”
Greg avoided my eyes. He knew I was right.
Squaring my shoulders, I forced cheer into my voice. “Well, there’s nothing more to be done then.”
“Would you like to join us for dinner?” I asked, trying to pretend I was fine, and that Liam’s absence wasn’t breaking my heart into tiny pieces. “I’m sure Nana would love some Mr. Fluffy snuggles.”
Greg gave me a sad smile, seeing right through me. “I’d love to.” He pointed a thumb toward the door. “I need to grab Mr. Fluffy from Andie’s place, but I’ll be back in time for dinner.”
“Perfect.” I forced another smile. “Andie and Carter are welcome to come, too. We’d love to see them.”
Hopefully, being surrounded by more people would keep me distracted from the empty pit that swelled in my stomach. Until Nana inevitably asked where Liam was, anyway. That was a conversation I wasn’t looking forward to.
After locking the door behind Greg, I sank to the floor and pulled out my phone to read Liam’s text again.
Oh, Liam. Why’d you have to be an idiot after all?
Seriously. Screw him. But not literally. Not ever again. He could take his unnaturally blue eyes and his majestic penis and go straight to hell where he belonged.
I typed a scathing message. Deleted it. Typed another. Deleted that one too.
Thumping my head against the door, I sighed. I couldn’t believe he had put me in this position. I really liked him. Hell, I more than liked him. I was pretty sure I loved him. Not that it mattered anymore.
God, he was such an asshole. And you’re so stupid. You can’t let him get away with this. My anger fuelled me as I typed message after message to Liam, hitting send after each thought before I could change my mind.
Maya
Well, I hope you’re happy. You almost had me convinced that you weren’t a completely self-absorbed, ignorant, overgrown man-baby, but guess what? I was right all along.
I always knew you would leave, but I thought you’d at least say goodbye first.
I should have known I couldn’t count on you.
Don’t worry. I’ll take care of Nana.
There. That’s better. Giving him a piece of my mind was just what I needed. Kind of. Maybe.
Before I could second-guess myself, I pulled up his contact info, blocked his number, and shoved my phone back into my pocket. I doubted he’d message me back, but this way, I wouldn’t be constantly checking my phone to see if he had.
Okay, fine. I didn’t feel any better at all. Honestly, I felt like shit.
It sucked.
“Thank you for dinner. It was very good. I’m full.”
Carter pushed his plate away and leaned back in his chair, his little hands resting on his tiny belly. “Auntie MyMy, you make the best s’ghetti.” He leaned closer and whispered, “Mom always puts yucky vegetables.”
“Vegetables are good for you,” Andie sighed, ruffling his hair. “And it’s pronounced spaghetti, buddy. Not s’ghetti.”
Nana smiled at him. “That’s okay, Liam. Sometimes I like to call it s’ghetti, too.”
My heart stopped. Did she just—no, she couldn’t have. Could she?
She blinked at me, her brows furrowing. For a second, panic flickered in her eyes. She knew she had said something wrong, but couldn’t quite work out what it was.
“Nana, that’s Carter, not Liam.” Shit. I shouldn’t correct her. The websites said that could make her more confused.
“Hmm? Oh, yes. Of course. You’re right. I’m sorry, Carter.”
It was a slip of the tongue, and not confusion. That was all it was, right?
“That’s okay, Nana,” he said before jumping off his chair. “Can I go play with Mr. Fluffy now?”
Greg stood, resting his hand on Carter’s head. “You sure can. Let’s go wash up first, though. We wouldn’t want spaghetti sauce on Mr. Fluffy’s white fur, would we? That would be awfully tricky to wash off.”
“Does Mr. Fluffy like baths?” Carter scrunched his face. “‘Cuz I hate baths.”
Greg laughed. “Mr. Fluffy doesn’t like baths all that much either. You guys have that in common.”
“And we both like beef jerky,” Carter said with a grin. “We have that comma too.”
“In common, buddy. Not comma.”
“Oh, right. In common,” Carter carefully enunciated the words, peering up at Greg for approval. My heart squeezed at the way his face lit up when Greg dipped his head, and I smiled as they made their way to the bathroom.
The warm feeling didn’t last, though. Nana’s pained expression when I turned back to her made sure of that.
“Nana? Is everything alright?”
She turned to me, concern lining her eyes. “What if it’s getting worse?”
Swallowing hard, I forced a smile. “You were just mixed up. It’s nothing to worry about. I’m sure it’s not the first time Carter’s been called by the wrong name.”
“I called him Mr. Fluffy earlier this afternoon,” Andie said, “and my dad runs through the names of at least half a dozen professional wrestlers before he ever manages to say Carter.”
Nana nodded, but her worried expression lingered.
Nana’s papery skin wrinkled under my fingers as I held her hand, fragile in a way that sent a ripple of anguish through my chest. Whether or not her memory was getting worse, I couldn’t deny how much she’d aged these last two years. She had dimmed somehow, become less vibrant than she used to be.
Nope, I refused to think about that right now. Shoving the thought aside, I smiled at Nana. “Why don’t we read for a while?” I suggested. “Andie can take Carter home to bed, and you and I can read together. We haven’t done that in a while. Doesn’t it sound nice?”
She shook her head. “I think I’d like to lie down. I don’t feel well.”
A prickle of worry slithered down my spine. “Of course, Nana. Whatever you want.”
In the few minutes it had taken me to walk our guests out, Nana had changed into her nightgown and settled into bed.
She squeezed her eyes shut against the glow of the bedside lamp, but I could tell she was just pretending to be asleep. I pressed a kiss to her cheek before pulling the blanket higher over her shoulder. She seemed so small tonight. So fragile.
“We’re calling the assisted living facility tomorrow,” she whispered, eyes still shut tight. “It’s time, Maya.”
A lump formed in my throat. “We don’t need to do that, Nana. I can take care of you here.”
She opened her eyes. “No, Maya. I refuse to be a burden. Taking care of an old, forgetful woman is no kind of life for you. You’re young. You need to be falling in love or, at the very least, sowing some wild oats.”
I sniffled, fighting back both laughter and tears. “You’re not a burden. I love spending time with you. I love this life.”
“I know, Maya. And I love spending time with you.” Her voice was gentle but firm as she patted my hand. “But I can’t be relying on you to take care of me anymore. And that’s final.” She tipped her head toward the lamp. “Turn off the lights on your way out.”
I huffed, shaking my head. “Fine. But we’re not done with this conversation. We’ll talk more over breakfast.”
Yawning, she said, “Okay, okay. But we’re also going to finally talk about my will. But let me get some rest first. I’m so tired.”
“Okay, fine. You win. Goodnight.”
She mumbled something that sounded like goodnight, already half asleep.
After letting myself into my apartment, I went straight to the kitchen to open a fresh can of cat food.
When Harold didn’t come running for his favourite soft food, I stopped and listened.
A faint meowing drifted in through the closed windows of my apartment, and my irritation bubbled to the surface.
Seriously?
“Damn it, Harold. You better not be dabbling in constructing skyscrapers out of rodents again.”
I hurried downstairs to the stockroom, bracing myself to find another mouse mountain when I got to the door. I pushed it open, exhaling in relief when no mice presented themselves. Harold shot past me, racing upstairs like his ass was on fire, yowling the house down the entire way.
“You know,” I called after him, “if you would use the ridiculously expensive cat doors I had installed, you wouldn’t have to wait for me.”
I turned to follow him up the stairs, my feet dragging with exhaustion. The weight of the day pressed down on me, heavy and relentless. I wanted to go home, curl up with a book, and forget Liam Bishop ever existed.
Before I could do that, though, my spare phone rang. Again. I might as well answer this time, I thought. It’s not like this day can get any worse.
With a heavy heart and a resigned sigh, I pushed through the stockroom doors into the shadowy bookshop.
The phone sat in the drawer where I left it, and even muffled, the sound it made was grating in the quiet of the empty store.
I grabbed it and pressed the button before I could talk myself out of it.
“Hello?”
A voice crackled through the receiver.
“Maya? Wait until you hear what we’ve been up to.”