There was a loud, high-pitched squeal from the other end of the line. Liam winced and held the phone away from his ear.
“She wants to talk to both of us.”
Before I could ask why, he held the phone away from his ear and tapped the speaker button.
“Claire?” his sister’s voice crackled through the tiny speaker. “Are you there?”
I crossed the room, slowly, still trying to remember how to walk normally. Liam held out an arm without looking, like it was second nature, and I stepped into it like it was mine to step into.
His hand settled around my waist. Warm. Confident. Not possessive—just... steady. Then his lips found the side of my head—right near the temple. A press more than a kiss.
I felt my heart skip once, then settle into something quieter.
“I’m here,” I said.
“Okay,” she said. “I wanted to give you both an update. I had my appointment this afternoon. We adjusted my meds, and my labs are already trending better. I actually feel like myself again.”
I felt Liam exhale beside me. Not dramatically, just a small shift in his shoulders, like the invisible weight he carried had released, inch by inch.
Neither of us said anything right away.
“Hello?” she said after a moment. “Did the call drop or are you both stunned silent?”
We both spoke at the same time.
“That’s great news,” Liam said, eyes still on me.
“That’s great,” I echoed, my eyes on Liam. “How often do you have to go back?”
“Every few weeks for now,” she said. “But honestly? I’m relieved. And my doctor thinks we caught it early enough to avoid a whole lot of mess.”
She paused. Then her voice dropped into something suspiciously smug.
“Okay. I’m going to hang up now and let you get back to… you know.”
Liam’s arm tightened just slightly around me. We both laughed.
“Subtle,” he said, smiling as he ended the call.
The room was quiet again—except it wasn’t really. The refrigerator hummed softly and the wind brushed against the windowpane. The candle flickered in its jar. And I could feel the tension in Liam’s body, not rigid, not hesitant, but contained.
Controlled.
He turned to face me fully. One hand still at my waist.
I turned toward him, unsure if I was actually moving or just reacting to the way he was looking at me.
His other hand lifted, slow and careful, until his fingers brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His hand slid from my waist up to the small of my back.
Mine found his chest.
We didn’t speak.
The kiss started soft.
Just the press of his mouth against mine, slow and careful, like he was still giving me a chance to back away.
I didn’t.
