Chapter 8
Now
After we find out that our gate does indeed exist, Liam and I walk in silence to get coffee.
We’re in line to order when Liam’s phone buzzes from inside his pocket. He pulls it out, eyes widening.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“I have to take this. Here. For our coffee.” He tosses me his wallet and walks off without giving me a second glance.
I frown, watching him go. Who the hell is calling him at 6 a.m.?
But if it’s 6 a.m. here, then it’s 2 p.m. in England.
My insides curl.
Whenever Liam’s sister, Felicity, calls, it usually means something bad has happened at home. Not that he ever shared the specifics with me, but there were always clues. Bad moods. Whispered phone conversations. Liam emotionally withdrawing.
In the early years of our relationship, I tried to be understanding about the fact that Liam didn’t like talking about his family.
After all, it was clearly a sore subject for him.
But as time went on, the lack of transparency bothered me.
Not just because I knew very little about my own husband’s past, but because it felt like there were certain parts of Liam that he didn’t want to share with me. Parts that were off-limits.
I used to think of it as this wall between us, and if only I could just knock it down, then we’d be happier, closer. But the harder I pushed, the further he withdrew, until finally I got the hint that the wall wasn’t coming down.
When I make it to the front of the line, the barista asks what she can get started for me and I place our order—iced coffee for me and a black drip for him since apparently New Single Liam doesn’t do sugar anymore.
When she tells me the total, I open Liam’s wallet in search of his black Amex.
I’m flipping through the stack of cards when I see them: two silver tinfoil packets.
I frown.
Why would Liam have condoms in his wallet? We haven’t used condoms in nine years—not since we became exclusive. Unless…
My stomach sinks, my vision blurring around the edges.
My first thought is whether or not I need to move to the nearest garbage can so I can throw up.
The second is that I should have known.
When I saw him without his ring at the coffee shop, I assumed it was symbolic of our separation. Now I feel foolish and naive for not considering the obvious: Liam’s ready to see other people.
Yes, in some theoretical sense I understood that divorce would entail Liam eventually fucking other women. It’s not like I thought he’d remain chaste the rest of his life. But I didn’t expect it to happen this fast. Or so casually. I figured we’d both need time. Lots of time. Years even.
But apparently Liam doesn’t. Apparently, he’s ready to take off his ring and start boning someone new.
Oh God. Is there someone new? Or is this just more of a precautionary thing?
Though I don’t know which is worse. The thought of Liam intentionally going to the store to buy condoms? Or Liam casually tossing a box of Magnums into his grocery basket along with bread and eggs, thinking, Hey, maybe I’ll fuck someone new.
I feel sick again.
I consider calling him on it. Letting him know that I saw the condoms and I’m hurt by it.
But if I do, that will imply that I’m not ready to have sex with someone else.
That I haven’t moved on as quickly as he has.
That I’m not an empowered, sexually liberated woman as I told him earlier.
That to some extent the idea of him sleeping with someone else bothers me.
Which of course it does. But I don’t want him to know that.
Not when I’m the one who ended things and I have no right to care what he does, or who he does it with.
Not when I’m supposed to be fine, just like him.
“Ma’am? That’ll be $12.76.”
I force my attention back to the barista, now watching me with mild levels of concern.
“Oh. Sorry,” I tell her before slamming down Liam’s card with enough force to earn me a suspicious look.
After I grab our coffees, I shuffle out of the coffee shop and into the bookstore next door.
I’m just skimming the cover of a tabloid, proudly declaring a recently divorced actress is now happier than ever and thriving in her new life, when out of the corner of my eye, I see a familiar UW Med baseball cap covering two blond braids.
“Aloha!” my sister cries with a wave. “I texted the group chat that we were at the food court.”
“Sorry. I didn’t see it,” I tell her.
I was too busy finding out my soon-to-be-ex-husband is having sex with other people!
Her lips fold together, clearly annoyed. “Figured. It’s not like you answer any of my texts anymore anyways.”
My gut twitches.
I wish I could tell her that she’s not the only one whose texts I’m not answering.
That the last few months have felt like a slow IV drip of misery and most days I can barely pull myself out of bed, much less respond to the stream of unanswered texts on my phone.
Especially the DMs from readers asking when there will be another book.
Yeah, I’m wondering that too. But Bella and I have never had that type of sisterly relationship.
We mostly keep things easy, breezy, surface level.
So I press my mouth into an apologetic smile. “Sorry, been busy.”
Bella looks me up and down, a groove forming between her brows. “It’s six a.m. Why do you look hot?”
“Thank you?”
She looks past me. “So, where’s Liam? Or is he sick again?”
I’m about to tell her that actually Liam’s on his way, when he appears by my side, arm sliding around my waist, dragging my body to his.
My limbs are momentarily rendered liquid-like as all of my brainpower concentrates on the singular phenomenon of Liam’s hand resting on the curve of my hip.
On the way his fingers splay out, low across my hip, firm and possessive, but also relaxed, like his hand just always goes there.
Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
And maybe at one time it was. But right now, after months without physical touch, the sensation is jarring.
Though apparently not to Liam. “Of course I’m here. You know I would never miss a Larsen family vacation,” he says, adding one of his signature smiles.
Bella grins back at him, cheeks ripening into a blush. “Hey, Liam.”
Bella’s always had a harmless crush on Liam, one that dates back to the first Christmas he spent with my family when she was fourteen and so nervous around him that she couldn’t speak.
In the years since, Bella’s relationship with Liam has morphed from teenage crush to role model—he helped her with her med school applications and has been writing her letters of rec for residency—but her teenage crush still remains a family joke.
One that was funny when we were together. Now, not so much.
“Hey, Bella,” he says, leaning in for a hug. “Long time no see.”
“I guess I owe Jonah twenty bucks,” she says, hugging him back. “We had a bet going whether you would actually show, and I thought you would be sick. Again,” she adds, shooting me a look.
My insides shift, unsure what’s worse—that my siblings placed bets on us, or that Bella bet against us. I look to Liam to see how he feels about this, but his face betrays nothing. The only clue that this registers is his hand tightening around my waist.
“Are you feeling any better?” Bella asks.
Confusion sweeps across Liam’s expression.
Shit. I should have warned him that in the last three months he’s had a sinus infection, bronchitis, and a particularly nasty bout of stomach flu.
I tilt my chin, giving Liam a look. Just go with it.
“All better, actually,” he says, lips forming a sturdy smile.
“Roslyn said it was pretty bad.” Bella cups her mouth, though it does nothing to muffle her voice when she says, “I heard it was coming out of both ends.”
Whoops. I forgot I said that.
I brace myself, waiting to see how he reacts to the fact that I basically told the family he was having explosive diarrhea, but other than the slight flinch in his jaw, Liam hardly reacts.
“It wasn’t quite that bad.” His eyes shift to mine, giving me a look like he’s vaguely considering strangling me. “You know how Roslyn exaggerates.”
“Well, since you’re feeling better, you still owe me a coffee date,” Bella says. “Remember? You promised I could pick your brain on residency?”
They launch into a discussion on residency programs Bella is thinking about applying to just as my older brother, Jonah, and his husband, Ben, appear, both carrying enough luggage for a month, rather than a ten-day cruise.
Behind them are my niece and two nephews: Henleigh, who’s four, and Jackson and Riley, who are both six.
“Are you trying to sink the ship?” I ask, eyeing their luggage.
Jonah rolls his eyes. “This is what life looks like with three kids, Roslyn. We can’t leave the house without bringing every single thing we own,” he says, giving me a withering look.
If being busy were an Olympic sport, my brother would have more gold medals than Katie Ledecky.
He takes great pride in doing more than everyone else and constantly uses it to one-up everyone around him.
Oh, you’re tired? Well, at least you didn’t perform heart surgery last night.
You have a lot going on? Well, try having three kids under seven.
As an eldest child, he sees burnout as a prize to lord over others.
“Liam! How ya been?” my brother says, pulling Liam in for a bro hug. “Bella, you owe me twenty bucks.”
“But I’m a poor med student,” she whines. “Twenty dollars could buy me like a month’s worth of instant ramen.”
“Maybe next time don’t make bets you’ll lose,” Jonah says, giving her a look.
Bella mutters something like fuck off while Jonah and Liam slap backs and Jonah compliments Liam’s beard. “It looks good,” he says. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you grow one before.”
Liam strokes his cheek as though surprised to find the beard there. “Just trying a new look,” he says.