Chapter 37 Liam #3
Her things appearing slowly among mine until it stopped feeling like my place and started feeling like ours.
Her laughter floating in from another room and the quiet, stupid relief of knowing I was the reason.
I wanted the ordinary things. Her falling asleep on the sofa with her head against me, and me pretending not to notice so she wouldn’t wake. Long dinners where she talked too much, and I gave her shit about it.
I wanted someone who saw exactly who I was and didn’t step back. Someone who expected more from me than I’d ever expected from myself. Someone who made the future feel … possible.
I wanted her teasing me in public and making us laugh. Rolling her eyes at the money, stealing my clothes, dragging color and noise and life into spaces I’d kept deliberately quiet. I wanted to introduce her without hesitation. No explanations, no consulting a checklist first. Just—this is Andrea.
My Andrea.
And the most dangerous part—the part I hardly let myself name—was how easily I could see it.
How natural it felt.
As if my life had been waiting, very patiently, for her to arrive and rearrange it into something better.
“Mmm.” She shifted and rolled away from me, then her eyes met mine. “What time is it?”
“I don’t know. But we’ve got all the time we need.”
She laughed. “Maybe. Although we should probably put our clothes on and head to the hotel.”
I reached over for her dress, but it was still wet, lying in a heap on the cold floor.
“I don’t think you’re going to want to put that on,” I said. “Nothing worse than wet clothes after you’ve warmed up.”
“Maybe we’ll just have to stay here, then,” she said. “Could we? Live like this, just me and you, in a little French cottage?”
“Well, technically, I suppose I could buy it,” I said, glancing down at her with a smirk.
“Oh my God, Liam.” She laughed and dropped her head into my chest. “You’re the absolute worst.”
“I know I am,” I said.
“I meant to ask,” she added. “You said you spoke to Hugo. How did it go?”
Of course. The MHRA. Even though it was good news, the memory hit me like putting on a damp shirt. I still hadn’t told her, although how we spent the last hour or so had been far better than talking about this.
“Maybe I will buy the cottage,” I said. “Order us some croissants and baguettes for breakfast tomorrow and forget about business altogether.”
“I know you’re not going to do that,” she said quietly.
She was right. I couldn’t. Not now that we were so close.
“So what did he say?”
“It’s good, Andrea. He believed it. Us … the whole thing. That we’re real. Steady. That I’m steady.”
She lifted her head slightly, searching my face.
I paused. “He’s opening the door for us. Things that weren’t moving before … are.”
She watched me for a moment, considering what I was saying.
“So the fake dating worked,” she said quietly.
“Yes.”
The fire shifted beside us, a piece of wood collapsing into ash.
“But I still don’t understand what you need from him, what you’re trying to do with Novexia. Miranda said something—”
“What?”
“That buying the company would help, but it wouldn’t be … enough …”
Right. I drew in a breath.
“Something happened, Andrea, in Helmand.”
I stared at the dying embers for a moment before I could keep going.
“We were supporting a ground unit, civilians nearby. There was an explosion. It all moved too fast—noise, dust, people running. You make decisions in seconds and live with them for the rest of your life.”
My hand tightened slightly where it rested on the rug.
“You can follow every rule, do everything right, and still someone innocent pays for it.”
The room was very quiet, and the rug was harder than before.
“After I left, I kept thinking about what happens next for people like that. Not soldiers. The ones who don’t choose to be anywhere near it. The ones who survive the blast but don’t get help in time.”
Her arm tightened around my waist, just slightly, but she didn’t move.
“Traumex isn’t perfect, but it works. And in the right hands, quickly enough …
it gives people a chance they wouldn’t otherwise have.
” My voice dropped a little. I’d told so few people about my plan, about what was really driving it.
“Buying Novexia was the only way to get control of it. I can push it where it’s actually needed instead of where it makes the most money.
And if it means the next family doesn’t lose someone because help came too late … ”
The last sparks lifted from the embers and disappeared up the chimney, brief and bright—like the fireflies in the forest that evening, gone almost before you could be sure you’d seen them.
“So this isn’t about profit,” she said slowly. “Or takeovers.”
“No.”
“It’s about … fixing something you couldn’t fix before.”
My chest tightened slightly. “Yes.”
She looked down to where her fingers were resting against my chest.
“That’s … not what I thought.” She let out a small breath. “I didn’t realize, Liam—”
“I don’t talk about it much.”
“Yep … I get that.” She dropped her head against my chest, and the fire shifted beside us.
For a while, neither of us said anything. The room cooled, but she stayed where she was.
Tomorrow, we’d have to leave.