Liam
He closed his eyes, and unbidden, a memory surfaced — Sunny in the kitchen with flour dusting her cheeks, teaching Maddie how to make cinnamon rolls on a rainy Sunday morning.
The way she’d thrown her head back with laughter when Hailey sneezed and sent a cloud of flour into the air.
The way she’d caught his eye across the room and held it, a silent connection that made his heart skip.
“Where are you?” he whispered to the empty car.
The hollowness in his chest had only grown deeper with each passing hour. Every lead had evaporated, every possible hideaway had proven empty. It was as if she’d vanished into thin air, taking pieces of all of them with her.
But he couldn’t give up. Not when Hailey cried herself to sleep each night. Not when Maddie had stopped talking almost entirely, retreating into the same silent grief she’d shown after Kate died. Not when he finally understood exactly what he’d thrown away.
With a heavy sigh, Liam pushed open his car door.
Sitting here staring at empty windows wouldn’t bring Sunny back.
Maybe there was something he’d missed, some clue in the building or grounds that might point him in the right direction.
He’d walk the perimeter, check the mailboxes, perhaps even knock on a few doors.
It was a desperate move, but desperation had become his constant companion these past three days.
As he stepped onto the sidewalk, stretching his cramped muscles, the cool morning air bit at his skin, a small but welcome sensation after the numbness that had enveloped him since Sunny’s departure. That’s when he heard it — a sharp, yapping bark that cut through the morning quiet.
He spotted an elderly woman walking an excitable white terrier that strained against its leash. The woman wore a vibrant purple coat despite the mild weather, her silver hair styled in an elaborate updo that seemed at odds with her casual dog-walking attire.
Recognition sparked instantly. This had to be Mrs Finley, the neighbor Beth had mentioned — the one who’d seen Sunny leaving.
“Excuse me,” Liam called out, jogging over. “Mrs Finley?”
The woman squinted up at him, her heavily lined face suspicious. “Who’s asking?”
“I’m Liam Anderson. I’m looking for Sunny. I believe you’re her neighbor?”
The change in the woman’s demeanor was immediate and startling. Her spine straightened, and despite being at least a foot shorter than Liam, she suddenly seemed to tower with indignation.
“You!” she exclaimed, jabbing a bony finger at his chest. “You’re the heartless rascal who broke that sweet girl’s heart!”
The terrier, sensing its owner’s agitation, began barking furiously, straining toward Liam’s ankles as if it wanted nothing more than to defend Sunny’s honor with its tiny teeth.
“I’ve never seen that girl so dejected, so utterly broken,” Mrs Finley continued, her voice rising above her dog’s yapping. “What kind of fool throws away someone like that? In my seventy-six years, I’ve seen some prize idiots, young man, but you might just take the cake!”
Liam stood there, taking the verbal lashing without interruption. A month ago, he might have bristled at a stranger’s judgment, might have walked away or defended himself. Now, he simply accepted it as his due.
“You’re right,” he said when she paused for breath. “I was a fool. I hurt someone who deserved nothing but kindness from me.”
Mrs Finley blinked, clearly surprised by his admission. The terrier, confused by the shift in tone, stopped barking and tilted its tiny head.
“Well,” she huffed, slightly deflated. “At least you admit it. Most men would rather swim through shark-infested waters than acknowledge they’re wrong.”
“I was wrong,” Liam agreed. “Catastrophically wrong. And now I need to find her, to tell her that — if she’ll listen. Please, if you know anything about where she might have gone…”
Mrs Finley studied his face, her sharp eyes seeming to catalog every line of worry, every shadow of sleeplessness.
“She wouldn’t say much,” she finally relented. “Just that she needed to put some old work stuff in order before deciding what to do next. Poor thing was trying to be brave, but I could see she was shattered inside. Reminded me of myself when Herbert — that’s my late husband — went off to Vietnam.”
The terrier had apparently decided Liam was no longer a threat and was now sniffing interestedly at his shoes.
Old work stuff. Something was clicking into place in Liam’s mind.
“Thank you, Mrs Finley,” he said with sudden urgency. “You’ve helped more than you know.”
The old woman harrumphed, but there was a glimmer of approval in her eyes. “Well, don’t just stand there thanking me. Go find her, you great buffoon! And when you do, you’d better treat her right this time, or Hercules and I will have more than words for you.”
The tiny terrier — ironically named Hercules — yapped in solid agreement.
***
The Early Childhood Center was housed in a cheerful yellow building with a playground visible through the side gate.
Children’s artwork decorated the windows, bright splashes of color that seemed to mock Liam’s grim mood as he approached the building where Sunny had volunteered before becoming the girls’ nanny.
The director, a stern-looking South Asian woman with silver-streaked black hair pulled into a tight bun, eyed him suspiciously through wire-rimmed glasses.
“Miss Thompson no longer volunteers with us,” she said crisply, shuffling papers on her desk with deliberate focus. “I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
“Please,” Liam said, the word catching in his throat. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I just need to find her.”
“You’re the hockey player, aren’t you?” The director — Ms Patel, according to the nameplate on her desk — looked up, her dark eyes narrowing. “The one from the tabloids.”
Liam winced but nodded. “Yes, but—”
“Sunny is one of the kindest, most dedicated young women I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with,” Ms Patel interrupted, her voice cooling several degrees. “Whatever happened between you two is none of my business, but I won’t help you upset her further.”
The protectiveness in her tone made something twist painfully in Liam’s chest. Sunny inspired this loyalty in everyone she met — everyone except him, apparently. He, who should have been her fiercest defender, had instead been the one to break her heart and cast her adrift.
“I made a terrible mistake,” he admitted, the words scraping his throat raw.
“I pushed away the best thing that’s happened to me and my daughters.
I’m not asking you to tell me where she is if she’s asked you not to.
I’m just asking if there’s anything — anything at all — that might help me find her so I can at least apologize.
So my daughters can at least say goodbye properly. ”
Something in Ms Patel’s expression softened fractionally at the mention of the girls.
“She cares deeply for your children,” she said after a long pause. “She spoke of them when I last saw her. With such pride, as if they were her own.”
“They are, in every way that matters,” Liam replied, his voice cracking slightly. “They miss her terribly.”
Ms Patel sighed, removing her glasses and rubbing the bridge of her nose.
“I don’t know where she’s gone,” she said finally.
“But she came by yesterday to drop off some children’s books she’d borrowed.
She seemed… lost. Said she needed some space to think and was going to see the only family she had left.
” Ms Patel replaced her glasses. “That’s all I know, Mr Anderson.
I hope you find her, for those little girls’ sake if nothing else. ”
Liam nodded, a spark of hope flickering to life in his chest. It wasn’t much, but it was something to grab hold of.
“Thank you,” he said simply.
As he turned to leave, Ms Patel called after him, “And Mr Anderson? If you do find her, don’t waste your second chance. People like Sunny don’t come along often in this life.”
“Believe me,” Liam replied, “I know.”
***
Greenwood Cemetery spread across rolling hills dotted with mature oaks and maples that cast dappled shadows across the rows of headstones. Liam drove slowly through the winding paths, trying to remember what Sunny had said about her stepfather’s final resting place.
Something about a view of the small pond, near a bench where she would sometimes sit and talk to him.
Parking near the cemetery office, Liam began walking the rows, scanning the names on each stone. Thompson. She’d kept her stepfather’s name, the only real family connection she’d ever had.
The spring air carried the scent of newly cut grass and early blooming flowers. Birds called from the trees, their cheerful songs at odds with the solemn setting and the heaviness in Liam’s heart.
It was then that he saw her. A woman with golden-brown hair standing before a headstone, her slender figure familiar even from a distance. His heart leapt into his throat, pounding so hard he could feel it in his temples.
“Sunny,” he breathed, his feet already moving fast, eating up the distance between them.
She turned at his approach, and Liam’s steps faltered, stumbled.
Not Sunny.
The woman was older, her hair a shade darker, her eyes a warm brown instead of Sunny’s clear blue.
“I’m sorry,” Liam managed, embarrassment washing over him. “I thought you were someone else.”
The woman studied his face, something in his expression apparently touching her. “You look like you’ve lost someone recently,” she said gently.
Liam swallowed hard. “I thought… I hoped she might be here.”
The woman looked confused.
“A loved one?” she asked, compassion softening her features.
“Yes,” Liam answered without hesitation. “The woman I love.”
The woman I love. The simplicity of it, the truth of it, settled in his bones.
“I hope you find her,” the stranger said sincerely, but still confused. “The cemetery office might be able to help you locate what you’re looking for, if that helps.”
Liam thanked her and turned toward the small stone building that housed the cemetery administration. Ten minutes later, armed with directions to Robert Thompson’s grave, he made his way to a quiet corner of the grounds overlooking a small, serene pond.
The headstone was modest but well-maintained, fresh flowers suggesting a recent visit. Liam’s pulse quickened. Had Sunny been here? Today?
But as he scanned the area, there was no sign of her. No car parked nearby that might be hers, no figure walking the paths in the distance.
Disappointment crashed over him, so intense it left him physically weakened. He sank onto the bench facing the headstone, head in his hands.
“I don’t know if you can hear me, Mr Thompson,” Liam said quietly after a long moment. “But I’m in love with your daughter. And I’ve made a terrible mess of things.”
The gentle breeze rustled the leaves overhead, the only response to his confession.
“She’s the most remarkable woman I’ve ever known, besides my late wife.
She loves with her whole heart. She deserves someone who isn’t afraid to do the same.
” Liam looked up at the headstone, imagining the man who had chosen to love Sunny when others had walked away.
“I promise you, if I find her — when I find her — I’ll spend the rest of my life being worthy of her love, like you were. ”
Liam stood, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out his lucky hockey puck, the one he’d carried since his first professional game.
Aged and worn, it had been a talisman through the best and worst moments of his career.
He’d clutched it during his draft day, his first championship win, the night Maddie was born, and through the darkest days after Kate’s death.
For years, hockey had defined him — his identity, his worth, his purpose. But standing here now, he realized something had shifted inside him. This puck, this symbol of everything he’d once prioritized, suddenly felt like it belonged to a different man.
He placed it carefully at the base of the headstone, feeling strangely lighter as he let it go.
“A promise,” he said simply, relinquishing not just the physical object but the man he’d been — the man who put career before heart, who let fear drive his decisions.
Then, with one last look at the peaceful spot, he turned and walked back to his car, each step heavier than the last.
Sunny wasn’t here. He was back to square one.