36. Whitney
36
WHITNEY
I t’s official: I love England.
It’s Christmas Eve, and Charlotte is showing me her sticky toffee pudding recipe while Liam and Simon sit by the fireplace, drinking spiked eggnog. We’re both wearing festive colors; I’m in a red dress and Santa hat, and Charlotte’s wearing a gold blouse with reindeer ears on her head. I even managed to wrangle Liam into an emerald sweater that looks painfully good on him, bringing out the green of his speckled eyes.
Simon’s boisterous laugh travels to our spot in the kitchen and Charlotte rolls her eyes, nudging me conspiratorially. “My husband is the silliest man in all of England, I swear,” she says. “Let’s join them. I need a drink.”
After washing my hands, I follow Charlotte into the living room. She’s sitting on the couch next to Simon, her arms draped around his shoulders. Liam is pouring us both drinks, a glass of white wine for me and an eggnog for his mom.
“Let’s play Charades,” Simon announces, slapping his thighs.
I glance around the room, unsure where to sit, but before I can move, Liam settles into the available armchair and pulls me down to sit in his lap. I glance at him with a soft smile, and he tugs at the white ball at the end of my Santa hat, bringing my head closer to his. He presses a soft kiss to my cheek, rubbing his thumb against my jawline. The motion tugs at my heartstrings, the memory of our night on the kitchen counter flashing through my mind.
“I’ll start, then!” Simon whirls around to face the group, the fire illuminating him from behind.
Liam shifts so that he can see Simon, settling his hands on my thighs. We watch as Simon flails about, making wild gestures that neither Liam nor I can decipher. We’re both laughing and making terrible guesses while Charlotte just sits in silence, watching her husband thoughtfully.
“ The Princess Bride!” she yells, and Simon claps his hands together, nodding. She squeals and jumps up to hug him.
“How the hell did you get that?” Liam asks in a baffled tone.
Charlotte shrugs. “When you’re married for a long time, your minds sync. You two will experience that eventually.”
Silence settles in the aftermath of her words, a knot forming in my stomach. The idea that Liam and I will be together for long enough that we can read each other’s mind fills me with a hopeful warmth. I feel Liam shift, and I want so badly to turn and meet his expression. To know what he’s thinking.
We play a few more rounds, and Charlotte and Simon wipe the floor with us. All Liam and I can do is laugh at how competitive they are — that and how utterly terrible at this game we are. Then, just as I’m thinking things can’t possibly get more ridiculous, it’s Simon’s turn again; he moves his hips, shoulders, pelvis — everything. It’s like he’s trying to run and have sex at the same time.
Liam’s face is a picture of horror while Charlotte yells maniacally.
“Running… you’re running. Oh, Blade Runner! Secretariat!”
“My God,” Liam says, grimacing, “this is painful.”
“What am I watching?” I say into his ear in sheer disbelief, too stunned to laugh.
As Simon continues his bizarrely erotic movements with more intensity, Liam leans into me and groans, nuzzling his face into my shoulder. “Nothing that we can unsee.”
“Forrest Gump! Back to the Future!”
Liam nuzzles closer. “Oh, God… ”
Finally, even Charlotte is stumped, opening and closing her mouth as ideas come and go.
Then it hits me.
“Oh my God,” I say, totally entertained. “Oh my God, I’ve got it. It’s Baywatch!”
“Yes!”
I squeal, jumping up to give Simon a high five.
“That was brilliant, darling,” Charlotte says. “I don’t know how I missed that. It was so obviously Baywatch.”
Liam looks around the room like he’s looking for signs of intelligent life. “In what world was that obvious?” he says, his voice high pitched and frantic. “I almost called an ambulance.”
For a moment, we all look at each other in silence. Then, we fall into a pit of hysterics.
Best night ever.
“Well, I think I sufficiently entertained our guests,” Simon says, placing a kiss on Charlotte’s head. “I’ll get dinner ready now.”
“Entertained, scarred…” Liam mutters.
Simon slips out of the room, and the three of us expel the last of our giggles as we settle back on the sofa, Liam placing his warm hand back on my thigh.
I have no plans to move it anytime soon.
Charlotte turns to us, leaning forward. “So, Liam. Why did you drop out of school?”
“Jesus, Mum.” Liam stiffens beneath me. “Already?”
She shrugs. “I let you have a couple of drinks and some fun first. That should count for something.” She grins a little, but her eyes remain serious. “Now before you say ‘I don’t want to talk about it’, remember that I’m not going to let it go for the next three days if you don’t tell me.”
He sighs from behind me, and I shift my weight.
“Maybe I should let you two talk alone,” I suggest, but Liam clamps his hand down on my thigh, stilling my movements.
He shifts me so that he can look at Charlotte directly. “You know why,” he says in a low voice.
Charlotte blinks into the dim light. “Darling.” She reaches her hand out towards his. “You should talk to somebody. This isn’t the right way to handle things.”
“It is what it is.”
“You could always change your mind about school. It’s never too late,” she argues.
Liam shakes his head, his expression resigned. “I don’t even think I’m that person anymore.”
My heart aches watching his chest rise and fall with ragged breaths, his walls lower than usual in the presence of his mother.
“It’s not just about Luke. It was at first. Just didn’t see the point in school anymore. Didn’t feel like going to class. Didn’t feel like doing anything. I realized that I was failing half my classes and it would be nearly impossible to catch up with all the sessions I’d missed. Then I just… shut down, I guess. Started working at the bar to fill my time with something. Everything was just… gray all the time. Just running on autopilot until…”
He trails off, his fingers reaching towards my hand. I don’t realize I’m crying until I feel a tear stroll down my cheek. I don’t wipe at it, not wanting to draw attention to myself. To hear him talk like this, to know that he’s been struggling so much and hasn’t talked to me about it…
He doesn’t trust you.
I hate myself for making this moment about me, for twisting his honesty into some fault against myself or some flaw in our relationship.
Fake relationship, you mean.
“Darling,” I hear Charlotte say. Glancing in her direction, I realize her eyes are coated with moisture, too. “You should have called me.”
Liam shrugs. “I’m figuring it out,” he says evasively. “It’s Christmas. We’re not supposed to talk about depressing shit.”
Charlotte shakes her head. “We’re supposed to talk about whatever we want to, and right now, your poor mother who never gets to see you anymore wants to talk about loss.”
“Mum,” he groans.
“You didn’t just lose Luke, Liam. You lost your dream. Your dream, love. Remember? I certainly do.” She smiles sadly. “You used to talk my ear off about whatever experiment you were working on, what paper you were writing. You loved it, and you were great at it.”
“Yeah,” he mutters, his hand finding mine. He presses his fingertips against mine, intertwining our hands without looking in my direction.
“What do you think, Whitney?” Caroline asks, looking at me curiously.
I swallow and my eyes flicker to Liam’s. This is new territory for us, and I’m not sure if he even wants to hear what I think about his life choices. It’s certainly not my place to pass judgement on them. He hasn’t spoken to me much about what his life was like before we met. I know that he was in graduate school and that he dropped out. That he’s focused on Luke’s project and trying to do a lot.
“I think… that sometimes we need time, and that’s okay. Sometimes just getting out of bed is enough, and everything else we can figure out as it comes…” I ramble on, unsure of what I want to say. “Liam is smart and brave, and he’s got an amazing heart, so if he needs to lock the door and throw away the key sometimes, I trust that he’s going to come back stronger than ever.”
Silence fills the room.
Charlotte lifts her glass, her smile deepening. “Cheers to that.”
When I finally work up the nerve to look at Liam, he’s staring at me as if he’s just remembered something or solved some puzzle he’s been stuck on for ages. He studies me with an intensity that sizzles through me.
Charlotte shifts, standing and brushing her skirt. “I’m going to help Simon,” she announces, then slips out of the room.
“Is that really what you think of me?” he finally asks, his voice low and controlled. “You think I’m brave?”
I swallow again, but nod. “Of course,” I whisper.
He brings a hand up to brush his thumb against my cheek, his intensity fading to a sweet softness as he presses his lips to the side of my neck. He places his hands on either side of my face and lowers his lips to mine. I feel him shake his head lightly.
“I’m not,” he admits, his breath playing against my face. “I’m terrified.”
I inhale a shaky breath, feeling the energy pulsing and shifting between us. Liam pulls back and meets my gaze again, his eyes filled with longing.
“This is real,” he murmurs. “It’s real, right?”
My stomach drops in one fell swoop. Swallowing, I take in everything about this moment. The low crackle of the fire, the sound of Christmas music floating softly from the kitchen, and Liam, his green eyes locked onto mine.
“It’s real,” I whisper.
Liam’s entire face lights up, a smile spreading across his face. He presses his lips to mine again and warmth spreads through my body, sending tingles down my spine. He nudges my shoulder, and that tiny motion makes me want to spill those three words more than I ever have before.
Say it, say it, say it.
“Come on,” I say instead. “Let’s go eat our weight in sticky pudding.”