I look away, pretending to focus on Laddie’s laughter, but her words hit home.
She softens. “Just think about it before you open that door again, okay? I know you. And he’d be all in and intense about you, always has been. You need to decide if you really want to pour gasoline on that fire again.”
Fire.
That’s how it felt to be with Liam back then.
Every time he looked at me.
Every time he touched me, even the accidental brush of our fingers in the hallway, it was like I was being set alight from the inside.
We were friends for a long time, but I wanted him before I knew what it meant. And once we crossed that line, it was all-consuming.
So yes, Talia’s right to remind me.
I’ve tried not to dwell on it. Most days, I managed.
But some nights… when the house was quiet, when Laddie was asleep, and my brain wouldn’t shut off… my thoughts turned traitor.
My hand slid beneath my panties almost on its own, finding my clit as muscle memory takes over.
And suddenly I was back with him, his big body over mine, his cock stretching me open, his mouth leaving heat along my throat and breasts.
I worked myself to the edge, trembling, biting back every sound, chasing the ghost of his touch.
And I know it would still be the same.
I saw the way his cock strained against the blanket when I blushed, when I smiled.
That old fire still flickered between us, waiting for a single spark to set it blazing again.
“I loved him, Tal,” I say. “I really, really loved him. It killed me to walk away.”
“I know,” my sister says softly. “I know you loved him, and I know why you walked away. I supported you then, and I’ve supported you every step since.”
This is true, of course.
My sister has always been overprotective, but she’s also the one who never leaves my corner.
Always there.
Always steady.
Sometimes I feel guilty for how much of her own life she’s set aside to help me hold mine together.
“Maybe I made the wrong choice,” I say quietly.
“I don’t think so.” Talia shakes her head. “You were eighteen, Em. You did what felt right at the time. Honestly, I always thought it was kind of unfair that you gave up art school, and he still got to chase his dream. But I know that was a purposeful sacrifice on your part. You wanted him to have something good. He had such a crappy home life, and you wanted him to get free. And I get it.”
She exhales. “Still, it was a lot. You were barely out of high school, and raising a baby while he was off trying to go pro? It’s… yeah, it was imbalanced.”
“Yeah,” I admit, the word catching a little. “But that was part of the choice. I was going to end the pregnancy. I went to the clinic and everything. But when it came down to it…” I swallow hard. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it. And it didn’t seem fair to put that on him, to trap him in it when he was finally so close to getting out of that mess he called a family.”
“It was selfless of you,” Talia says. “I understand it. I do.”
“I appreciate you so much,” I say, putting an arm around my sister’s back, laying my head on her shoulder as we walk. “You know that, right?”
“I do.”
