Chapter Twenty-Eight
Calyspo
Liam gets out of my car to open the garage manually since the battery died yesterday.
I don’t stop myself from appreciating his muscular physique, especially his ass that is perfectly sculpted in those jeans.
We’re getting home from dinner with Stanley and Willa.
I’d already met both of them hundreds of times, especially Stanley who gave Hudson his first job.
It took some of the edge off, plus it was only the four of us.
They went easy on me when all I’ve done is throw Liam into the lion’s den—over and over.
It’s been about three weeks since Liam and I had sex and talked to Mia.
And two weeks since he was supposed to find another rental.
We never really talked about it, as we so rarely do (thanks to me).
There were a few times I caught Liam looking through rental sites.
Not that he was doing anything wrong, but he’d close his screen every time.
He never does that. So, I figured he was avoiding the subject as much as I was.
Instead of asking if he wanted to stay at my house, I just… kept making plans.
I asked if he wanted to try a new recipe the following week, but I purposefully picked a day he’d have to stop at the grocery store. I ordered Rosie an adorable outdoor dog bed. It’s a hollowed out strawberry so she has shade. It went on the back deck on the day of the three week mark.
He tested the waters himself, asking if he could install a dog door for Rosie. He even went as far as leaving a few hundred dollars on the counter with a note that said “bills.” If he’s staying longer, I’m willing to take his money. It’s a silent declaration that he’s not just a “guest” anymore.
Every day we fall into more and more of a routine.
We have sex multiple times a week, which is amazing every single time.
Liam doesn’t only enjoy putting my pleasure first, he insists on it.
However, sex hasn’t taken over our relationship.
It would be easy considering how little I give him emotionally most days.
Why wouldn’t Liam treat this as if it were nothing more than a physical connection?
Instead, sex is a bonus to everything else we’ve established together.
Our evenings are always ours to enjoy, at least when one of us doesn’t have to work late.
We cook, or order in, and spend time relaxing.
Bravo and puzzles are still our typical plans—he’s on his fifth puzzle.
Some nights I research new recipes while he draws in his sketchbook; he does that more often than a month ago, too.
And other days, we have dinner with my siblings or Lucas and Knox.
Pulling into the garage, Liam slides the door shut behind me and meets me at the driver’s side.
“I’ll take the leftovers in.” He grabs the tupperware out of my hands before helping me out of the car.
Not to jinx ourselves, but it’s been calm—enjoyable. Of course I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I try not to worry about that more than necessary.
Mia hasn’t heard back from her PI contact, but I was warned it could take up to two months before we hear anything.
Considering he has to go through the last five years of Stefan’s life, with a bigger focus on the last three, I assume it will take the full sixty days.
A large part of myself wants this to be over and done with, but I’m also worried about what he’ll find.
Of how much more sinister Stefan is capable of getting.
Neither he nor Ruby have been around, at least not that Liam or I have seen.
I’m not foolish enough to believe he’s suddenly gotten bored.
Between showing up at my house and making a scene, then barging into Brighter Daze, he’s becoming more erratic.
There’s nothing Stefan cares more about than his image, though, so maybe he’s backing off after his public missteps. Who fucking knows.
“Hi, hi,” I say quietly as Rosie jumps at my ankles. She’s usually calmer than this, but Liam and I have both been out for most of the day.
As Liam is putting the food away, I shuffle through the mail he brought in earlier.
It’s mostly bills and random subscriptions I don’t remember signing up for, but one envelope catches my eye.
The maroon paper is secured with an intricate poppy wax seal.
Slowly, I flip it over, expecting to find Stefan’s name on the other side. What is there hurts even worse
To: Calypso Davies
From: Kelvin Michaelson and Juniper Owens
Ripping open the paper, my mind races, trying to figure out who the fuck Kelvin is. My heart knows before my brain sees it.
“Join us for the wedding of Kelvin Michaelson and Juniper Owens!”
I read that one line a dozen times, positive that I’m not comprehending it correctly. Except it doesn’t change—those eleven words stay the same.
My best friend is getting married. I should say ex-best friend, considering how she just walked out one day—not only on me, but on Asher too. It’s hard to hate her when I know as much about her as I do—about her mom and her past. Sometimes the anger festers into loathing, even years later.
Right now, my heart is cracking open.
The invitation itself is gold-foiled with black lettering. There’s a watercolor poppy design that creates a border around the edges. It’s pretty.
It’s so not Juniper—at least not the girl I spent every day with for fifteen years.
Juniper’s favorite flowers are tulips, specifically pink tulips, and she was always the silver to my gold. Not only that… It’s just so gaudy. It screams Debra, her horrible mother. She could give Martha a run for her money as far as helicopter parents go.
Still staring at the invitation, tears gather in my eyes and I try to blink them back.
Juniper is getting married and I had no idea.
My best friend for over a decade—the woman I thought I’d spend my life with, if not a man.
I was okay with that, even though she was happy and in love with Asher in those alternate universes.
Fuck. Asher.
The only person to ever love Juniper more than me is him.
We don’t talk about her. It hurts too much but it’s a shared wound. I’ll have to tell him. He needs to find out from me. A tear slips down my cheek and I quickly wipe it away.
“Do you want a glass of w—” Liam holds up a bottle of white moscato but it slowly drops to his side. “Honey? What’s wrong?”
I shake my head and hold my hand up, stopping him from coming any closer.
He comes around the island but leaves a few feet of room between us.
His hand clenches around the granite as concern etches across his features.
Liam’s never seen me cry before. Of course I do, I’m not heartless, but I tend to keep my emotions close to my chest. I can’t imagine what he’s thinking right now.
“Calypso, is that from Stefan?” He’s already patting his pockets, searching for his phone.
I could have guessed that, actually.
“No, no,” I say quickly. My voice breaks on the second syllable and more tears drip down my cheeks. Dropping the envelope on the counter, I press my palms against my eyes.
I hear Liam shuffle forward and pick up the invitation. He sucks in a quick, tense breath.
“Juniper …? That’s your old friend?”
I nod. “And Asher’s ex-girlfriend—should have been fiancée. I have to tell him. Fuck.” I grit my teeth to stop a pitiful sob.
“That’s a worry for later,” Liam says in a low, soothing voice. “What do you need, honey?”
You.
“Nothing. I don—” The ache grows as I try to push Liam away. Taking a deep breath, I look up at him with sad, red-rimmed eyes. “Hold me.”
It’s no louder than a breath, but Liam is quick to pull me flush against him. His strong, protective arms wrap around me and hold me close. “Shh. We’ll get through this.”
We.
Liam has never even met Juniper, but he’s taking on this burden with me.
I imagine myself actually taking some of this weight off and handing it to him.
In my mind, Liam slings the heavy bag over his shoulder as easily as he carried my tote bag that first Sunday morning together at the farmer’s market.
I don’t have to sit with this knowledge alone. I won’t have to tell Asher alone. I’m not on my own, and I’m less scared of that fact every single day.
“It’s been years,” I confess, still nuzzled against his chest as he holds the back of my head. “I haven’t spoken to Juniper in years, and it still hurts this badly. Will it be worse for Asher?”
It’s a rhetorical question, and Liam doesn’t answer. I know the truth anyway.
Yes. It will, in many ways, hurt worse for Asher.
“Fuck,” I grit out. Clumsily, I push away from Liam’s chest and rub my hands across my face. There’s make up all over them, and a few black spots on Liam’s shirt too.
I open my mouth to apologize but Liam shakes his head. “Don’t.”
Biting my lip, I cross my arms and stare at the gold invitation. “I don’t know what to do with it.”
“Do you want to throw it away?” He sees the answer in my eyes: no. He opens the junk drawer and shoves the invitation in there. “Out of sight, out of mind, then?”
Instead of imagining it, I actually feel Liam taking some of the emotional weight that is threatening to drag me down.
“Let’s take a shower.” I grab his hand and lead him upstairs.
In silent tandem, we start the water and undress.
All I can think about is Juniper and our years of friendship.
I’ve spent hours trying to figure out where it went wrong—why she left with barely a word.
Then one day I told myself enough was enough.
I couldn’t be miserable about her forever, especially when Asher clung to my sadness as if it justified his.
We both needed to move on, at least as much as we could.
As we step into the spray, Liam grabs a washcloth and starts to softly scrub my body. Heavy from exhaustion, I lean into his chest and his arm wraps around my waist, rubbing suds against my breasts and stomach. There’s nothing sexual about the moment, even with his erection pressed against my ass.
“Tell me about her.”
Peeking over my shoulder, a wry smile tugs at my lips. “Isn’t that what you say when you’ve lost someone?”
“She may be alive but it’s still grief, honey,” he murmurs against my wet hair.
Thinking it over, I decide to give it a try. Juniper and I met a year after my family moved to Amada Beach. To tell Liam about her, I have to tell him about my entire life.
Starting at the beginning, I tell him about how we met through the dance studio and our first sleepover.
About the years it felt like we were all the other had, and how she’s the person who I’ve loved the most in this life.
How losing her hurts more than my divorce ever did.
I tell him about her history with Asher.
The conversation extends outside of the foggy, glass walls. I talk as we dry off and get ready for bed. There are countless memories I left out, so many little details about who Juniper is that he needs in order to understand her.
Liam never says a bad word about her, though. He shows sympathy for her in that way that comes naturally to him. At the same time, he holds mine and Asher’s grief with tender hands.
To be honest, it feels good to talk about Juniper. I wrapped her up in a pretty, turquoise ribbon many moons ago, and I’ve been too scared to open it since.
What means the most is how Liam never tries to solve the problem. He doesn’t tell me I should reach out or suggest how I should tell Asher. He’s just here; a strong, silent force that I’m learning to lean on too much.