Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Gabbi
I woke to the muted hum of voices and the rich scent of coffee drifting through the air.
My body felt heavier than usual, weighed down by exhaustion, but for the first time in days, I wasn’t running.
The couch beneath me was firm, the blanket draped over my legs carrying the familiar scent of Bobby—clean, warm, safe.
The past few days had been nothing but chaos, every second spent fighting, surviving, searching.
And now, we were here. Alive. Safe. Free.
I stared at the ceiling for a long moment, letting reality settle around me, letting myself adjust to the quiet.
The world hadn’t stopped, even if it felt like it should have.
Outside, cars rumbled down the streets, distant sirens wailed, and life went on like nothing had changed. But everything had.
A faint murmur of conversation reached my ears, drawing me out of my thoughts. I pushed the blanket aside and sat up, wincing at the dull ache in my muscles. The voices were coming from the kitchen. Bobby and Liam.
I hesitated before moving, listening instead.
Liam’s voice was quieter than Bobby’s, softer, hesitant. "I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now," he admitted, his words barely above a whisper.
Bobby’s response was steady, unwavering. "You don’t have to know. We figure it out together."
I exhaled slowly, running a hand through my tangled hair before pushing myself to my feet. My heartbeat quickened as I stepped toward the kitchen, stopping just at the edge where they couldn’t see me yet.
Liam sat at the small table, a cup wrapped between his hands, the sleeves of his oversized hoodie covering his fingers.
His posture was tense, his eyes locked on the steam curling from the mug.
Bobby stood at the stove, flipping eggs, his movements smooth, controlled, but I knew better.
I knew the storm that still churned inside him, the unspoken fears, the weight of six lost years pressing on his chest.
"You sleep okay?" Bobby asked, his voice low, careful.
Liam shrugged, barely lifting his head. "Yeah. I guess."
Bobby glanced over his shoulder. "You guess?"
Another shrug. "Better than before."
Bobby didn’t push. He just nodded, plating the eggs before sliding them onto the table. "That’s good."
Silence stretched between them, thick but not uncomfortable. They were still figuring each other out, still learning how to exist in the same space again. There were wounds that wouldn’t heal overnight, scars that ran too deep.
I took a steadying breath and stepped into the room.
Liam’s gaze flickered to me, quick, uncertain, before dropping back to his cup. Bobby turned next, his eyes scanning me like he was making sure I was still standing, still okay.
"Morning," Bobby murmured.
"Morning," I echoed.
He nodded toward the counter. "Coffee’s fresh."
I hesitated, not because of the coffee, but because of Liam. Because of the words burning at the back of my throat, the ones I had carried for six long years.
I turned to Liam. "Can we talk?"
Bobby tensed slightly, his fingers tightening around the handle of the spatula, but Liam didn’t react much. He let out a small breath and pushed his chair back, standing slowly. "Yeah."
I followed him through the small apartment, past the cluttered living room, until we stepped onto the tiny balcony. The city stretched out before us, golden in the morning light, alive with movement, oblivious to the war we had just fought.
Liam leaned against the railing, staring down at the street below, his hands gripping the metal tightly. He didn’t speak. Didn’t look at me.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat and stepped beside him, the cool breeze stinging my skin. "I’m sorry," I whispered.
Liam’s fingers twitched around the railing, his body going still.
"I know sorry isn’t enough," I continued, my voice barely steady. "But I need you to hear it anyway. I should have listened to Bobby that day. I should have never taken you to the park. If I could trade places with you, I would. In a heartbeat."
Liam exhaled through his nose, still not looking at me.
"I spent years chasing leads, trying to find something, anything, that would bring me to you," I admitted. "Not just because I wanted to fix what I did, but because I couldn’t live with the thought of you out there, alone, scared." I blinked hard, my eyes burning. "I was supposed to protect you."
Liam shifted, his head tilting slightly, but he didn’t turn toward me.
"I can’t change what happened," I whispered. "But I need you to know—I never stopped looking for you. And I never stopped blaming myself."
A long silence followed.
The wind brushed past us, carrying the sounds of traffic and distant voices, but all I could hear was the hammering of my own pulse.
Then, finally, Liam spoke. "I don’t remember much," he admitted. "Most of it is blurry. But I do remember being happy that day."
My breath hitched. "What?"
"The park," he said, his voice quieter now. "Before everything happened, I remember being happy." He turned his head slightly, finally meeting my gaze. "I don’t blame you, Gabbi."
Something inside me cracked.
I had spent six years drowning in guilt, replaying that day over and over in my mind, cursing myself for making the wrong choice, for not listening, for failing to protect him. But now, hearing those words from him—hearing him say he didn’t blame me—it shattered something inside me.
My chest tightened, a small, choked breath escaping me. I turned away, blinking rapidly, pressing my fingers against the railing as I tried to steady myself.
Liam watched me for a second longer before shifting his gaze back to the street. "I didn’t think I’d ever get out of there," he admitted. "Every day, I thought… this is it. This is my life now."
I swallowed, my throat tight. "You’re out now."
"Yeah." His fingers tapped against the railing. "It doesn’t feel real."
I turned to him again, my voice softer. "It will."
He was quiet for a long time before finally giving me a small nod. It wasn’t much. It wasn’t a full resolution. But it was something.
And for now, something was enough.