“Liam?” I say, my voice cracking.
His eyes flash with shock, confusion, something darker twisting behind them.
“Are they mine?”
The question slices through me. I blink, stunned.
“What?” I whisper, like maybe I heard him wrong.
“Are they mine, Olive?”
I flinch, like the words physically hit me.
“How could you ask me that? Of course they’re yours.”
His jaw tightens, eyes narrowing. “Because you’ve been gone for three fucking months. That’s why I’m asking.”
Pain flares white-hot in my chest.
“And if you remember,” I snap, “before that, we were in bed every goddamn night.”
I don’t mention the freaking baby-making room, and how we probably broke some kind of record in there.
He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. Just looks at me like I’m someone he doesn’t know anymore.
Then he says, “I’m going to need proof.”
The words are cold. Final. Like a verdict. I stagger back a step, breath caught in my throat.
“What?” I whisper again, but this time it’s broken.
He looks down, jaw clenched, fists curled at his sides like he’s trying to stay in control. But the damage is already done.
He doesn’t believe me.
He doesn’ttrustme.
I came here carrying everything and handed it to him with shaking hands. And he dropped it. Shattered it. I press my lips together, fighting the tears rising fast and vicious.
“Forget it,” I say, turning away.
Because I came here hoping we could rebuild something. And now I know we’re standing in the rubble.
His sigh follows me like a shadow.
“It’s late,” he says. “Come inside. I’ll take you to a hotel in the morning.”
I hate that he’s right. It’s too late to call in favors. Ruby’s sweet, but even she wouldn’t appreciate me banging on the B&B door at this hour, not after three months of silence.
And I’m tired. Bone-deep, soul-worn, drained in a way sleep can’t fix.
But then he seals it with a blow I should’ve seen coming.
“I have to be at Sam’s place by two for the ceremony, so we’ll need to leave around ten.”
Right. Sam and Charlie’s wedding. Tomorrow. He says it like an afterthought. Like a reminder of where he’s really supposed to be. And it stings more than I want to admit because in a different world I’d be there with him.
Numbly, I move past him, my boots echoing on the floorboards as I step inside.
