Chapter Twenty-Seven
Maggie
I yank my jeans up and grab my phone, already dialing Odie’s number. My stomach churns as I pace the room, glancing at the text thread Liam clearly read. The memory of his expression—hurt, closed off, distant—burns in my mind.
“Why are you calling me this early?” Odie groans, his voice groggy on the other end of the line. “It’s barely morning.”
“Odie, we have a problem,” I say, trying to keep the panic out of my tone as I peer out the window. A crowd is forming near the slopes, bundled in coats and scarves, their energy buzzing even from this distance. I know Liam is out there, probably surrounded by whispers and stares.
“I’m too tired for cryptic,” Odie grumbles. “Just spit it out.”
“Someone leaked the story,” I say, gripping the edge of the windowsill. “About Liam. The doping allegations.”
There’s a beat of silence before Odie groans louder, the sound half frustration, half exhaustion. “You’re kidding me. No one was supposed to run that yet! Janowicz’s head is going to roll.”
“We need to figure out who did this,” I insist, spinning away from the window and running a hand through my hair. “Why would they jump the gun?”
“Does it really matter?” Odie snaps. “The guy’s obviously juicing. It was only a matter of time before someone found out.”
I freeze, anger flaring hot in my chest. “No, Odie. He’s not. He’s not that guy.”
“How do you know that?” He sounds skeptical, like he’s indulging me more than believing me.
“Because I’ve been around him,” I say, much firmer now. “I’ve seen how disciplined he is. His schedule, his diet, his training—it’s all carefully calculated. None of this screams cheater.”
“Yeah, well,” Odie sighs, clearly unimpressed, “maybe that’s part of the act. People can fake anything when they know the world’s watching.”
I shake my head, pacing the room again. “It doesn’t make sense. Why would someone so careful and meticulous risk everything for a shortcut? Something doesn’t add up.”
“Okay, fine,” Odie concedes begrudgingly. “But if it wasn’t Liam, then who had the motive to leak it? Someone on his team? Another competitor? His jealous ex? Hell, could it have been you, Maggie?”
I stop mid-step, my heart pounding as his words settle over me like a storm cloud. “Of course it wasn’t me!” I snap, but even as I say it, the reality of how it looks hangs heavy in the air. The texts. My job. The fact that I’m here.
The weight of it all crushes me as Odie continues. “You’re close to him. Too close, if you ask me. If Liam’s smart, he’ll start asking those same questions.”
The line falls silent, but his words echo in my mind. Too close. Maybe Odie’s right. Maybe Liam already is asking those questions. And if he is, what happens when I’m not the one with the answers?
“We need to figure out who leaked it and why they chose a disreputable online gossip site to sell the story to,” I decide, pacing the length of the room as Odie groans on the other end of the line.
“Why are you saying we?” he asks, annoyed.
“Because,” I sigh, “you’re going to use all your contacts to figure out who the unnamed source in the story is.”
“Fine,” he mutters. “Send me the story.”
I copy the link, paste it into our text thread, and wait for the telltale ping on his end. “Did you get it?”
There’s a pause before he clears his throat. “Yeah, I got it. Let’s see… ‘Shredding the Rules: Liam Thompson Caught in Doping Controversy.’ Catchy title.”
“Just keep reading,” I urge.
Odie grumbles as he begins reading aloud.
Snowboarding legend Liam Thompson, beloved for his daring tricks and charm on the slopes, now finds himself at the center of a swirling scandal. An unnamed source has come forward, alleging that the pro athlete has been using performance-enhancing substances to maintain his edge in competitions.
‘Liam's been under immense pressure to stay at the top,’ the source reveals. ‘Everyone thinks he’s this golden boy, but behind the scenes, it’s a different story. His recent performances have been too good to be true. People in the industry have been whispering about this for months.’
Thompson, 31, has always been known for his strict training regimen and clean lifestyle, making the allegations all the more shocking.
However, the source claims his seemingly perfect routine is part of the facade.
‘It’s not just about staying fit,’ the insider insists.
‘There are substances that can make recovery faster, muscles stronger, and stamina greater. Liam knows his career is winding down, and this might be his way of prolonging it.’
Thompson’s team has yet to comment, but fans are already split, with many taking to social media to defend the star while others call for accountability.
‘If these allegations are true, it’s a betrayal,’ said one longtime fan.
‘I’ve always admired Liam, but cheating isn’t the way to keep a legacy alive. ’
With the spotlight now brighter than ever, all eyes are on Thompson to address the claims and prove his innocence—or face the fallout.
When Odie finishes, the room feels as though all the air has been sucked out of it.
“Well?” I prod.
He inhales sharply. “Honestly? This isn’t as bad as it could be.”
“It’s enough to ruin his career,” I counter. “The timing alone is catastrophic. Right before the competition ends? Someone wanted this to hurt him.”
“Alright,” Odie says, his tone softening. “I’ll reach out to my contacts and see what I can dig up.”
“You’re the best,” I say, relief washing over me.
“Just one question,” Odie presses. “Are you sure you trust this guy?”
I pause, thinking about Liam—his disciplined training, his passion for the sport, the raw vulnerability in his eyes last night. “Call it journalistic intuition,” I finally reply. “But Liam’s clean. I know he is.”
“You slept with him, didn’t you?” Odie’s voice cuts through the static on the line, blunt and knowing.
I don’t answer right away, my silence saying more than I want it to. Finally, I exhale. “Doesn’t change the fact that my gut tells me this story is retaliation or revenge.”
Odie sighs heavily. “Just… be careful, Mags. He might be a snowboarding god, but at the end of the day, he’s still a man.”
“I know,” I say. “I will. I am.”
We hang up, but his words linger like a stubborn shadow. I run a hand over my face, my eyes drifting across the room. They land on the trash can, embarrassingly full of condom wrappers. My cheeks heat, and my stomach churns with doubt.
Am I blinded by how charming Liam is? Am I going about this the right way, or am I leaning toward his innocence because I like him? I mean, it’s not just that I like him—I trust him. And I don’t trust anyone.
The thought alone makes my chest tighten.
No. This isn’t about feelings or chemistry. I know my gut. My gut says Liam might be hiding something, but it’s not this. It’s not nefarious. It’s not doping.
So, what is it?
As I sink onto the edge of the bed, my heart pounds with determination. I’ll find the truth—not just for the story, but for him. For us.
I gather my things, my hands moving on autopilot, and take one last lingering look at the bed.
The sheets are rumpled, still faintly carrying Liam’s cedar scent.
If I could, I’d turn back time and crawl back into the warmth of his arms, where the world and all its worries seemed to melt away.
For the briefest moment, everything felt right.
But the real world doesn’t wait.
As I’m heading for the door, my phone vibrates in my hand.
The screen lights up with a name I haven’t seen in months—Ryan.
My chest tightens, an icy knot forming in my stomach.
Why is he calling me? My mind leaps to Louise, his grandmother.
Did something happen to her? She was always kind to me, letting me stay in her granny flat far longer than I probably deserved.
I close my eyes, steadying my breath, and finally swipe to answer. “Hello?”
“Maggie?” Ryan’s voice comes through the line, faint and crackling. It’s been so long since I last heard it that for a second, it feels surreal, like a memory dragged out of the past.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I reply, tight and cautious.
“I, um… sorry for calling you like this,” he starts, his words uncertain, uncharacteristic. “But I needed to talk to you.”
My stomach sinks further, bracing for whatever’s coming. “What’s up? Did something happen to Louise?”
For a moment, there’s only silence on the other end, as though he’s gathering courage. Then he sighs. “It’s not about my grandma.”
My pulse quickens, dread coursing through me. “She’s okay?” I breathe out a sigh of relief.
“She’s fine,” he rushes to say, then hesitates again. “But… I’ve been thinking about you. About us. I made a mistake, Maggie. A huge one.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut, leaving me momentarily speechless. Whatever I thought this call was about, this wasn’t it.
“Thinking about me?” I repeat, leaning against the doorframe as I try to process Ryan’s sudden reappearance in my life. “Why would you be thinking about me, Ryan? You’re going to be a dad in a few months. Shouldn’t you be focused on that?”
There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end, and I almost feel guilty for how direct I’m being. Almost.
“I know,” he says quietly, the words laced with regret. “But, Maggie, that doesn’t mean I can’t admit I messed up. I never should have let you go. I was stupid. I—” He stops, his words catching. “I love you, okay? I always have.”
I laugh bitterly, the sound surprising even me. “You have a funny way of showing it, Ryan. Sleeping with your coworker while we were still together? That was quite the declaration of love.”
“Maggie,” he pleads, his tone growing more desperate, “it was a mistake. A huge mistake. I wasn’t thinking clearly. But I’ve been thinking ever since, and I can’t stop wondering what it’d be like if we could just go back. Try again.”
“Go back?” I echo, my voice sharp now. “Ryan, there is no going back. You’re having a child with another woman. That’s not something you can just ‘figure out later.’”
“Why not?” he asks, the rawness in his voice catching me off guard. “We were happy together. I know we can be happy again.”
“No,” I say firmly, my grip on the phone tightening. “We can’t. Because you didn’t just hurt me, Ryan. You broke something that can’t be fixed. And whether you want to admit it or not, you’ve already made your choice. You need to move forward. Focus on being a good father. That’s what matters now.”
He’s silent for a long moment, and I can almost feel his frustration through the phone. “You’ve moved on,” he finally says.
“Yes,” I answer, and this time, I don’t hesitate. “I have.”
We exchange a strained goodbye, and I hang up, my hand trembling slightly. I stare out the window at the snow-covered mountain, Liam’s face flashing through my mind. A pang of uncertainty tightens my chest.
Could there really be a future for me here—with him?
The thought lingers, both thrilling and terrifying, as the sun rises high over the snowy peaks.