Liam rolled his eyes. “I don’t thinkniceandlawyerfit in the same sentence.”
Mom huffed quietly before retreating to the back, leaving the two of us alone. A part of me screamed to run away and avoid confrontation, but the other, wiser, part of me knew I couldn’t delay the inevitable.
I hesitated near the coffee machine, then poured two mugs—black, the way Dad used to drink it, the way we both learned to stomach it early just to feel older. I set one down in front of Liam, the ceramic clinking softly against the laminate table.
He glanced up. “Thanks.”
I slid into the booth across from him, wrapping my hands around my own cup. The air between us stretched, tight and quiet. Finally, I said, “So…how’s school?”
He blinked at me like I’d spoken in a language neither of us used anymore. “It’s fine.”
“Just fine?”
He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “It’s college. Classes, parties, group projects where no one does the work except me.”
A breath of a laugh escaped me. “Sounds about right.” Not that I knew firsthand.
Liam swirled the coffee in his cup, eyes trained on the dark liquid like it might offer answers I couldn’t. “I didn’t think you’d come back.”
His words landed heavy, no accusation in his tone—just fact. That almost made it worse.
“I always wanted to,” I admitted. “But after so many years gone, that was my new normal. The thought of coming home started to scare me. At some point, I got terrified of change.”
“Well, things always change when it’s not your life falling apart.”
That one hit. I stared down at the chipped edge of my mug, searching for the right words. Ones that didn’t sound like excuses.
“I know I left you with the worst of it, especially after Dad died,” I said finally. “And I’m sorry for that. I thought I was doing the right thing, helping from a distance, sending money. But it wasn’t fair to you.”
He didn’t respond right away, jaw tight. Then he looked up, and there was something softer behind his eyes. Still guarded but listening.
“I used to wait for your calls,” he mumbled quietly. “I’d check my phone like an idiot, hoping you’d ask how school was going or if I scored a winning goal.”
My chest ached. “I should’ve called more.”
“Yeah. You should’ve.”
Silence again. At least it wasn’t the sharp, angry kind frombefore. Hopefully, it was a pause before something else. Forgiveness and moving on, if I were lucky.
“You’re here now,” he said after a beat.
I nodded. “I am.”
Liam took a sip of his coffee, then leaned back in the booth. “You still suck at small talk.”
A grin pulled at the corner of my mouth. “Yeah, well, some things never change.”
The bell above the door jingled, and I looked up, expecting the lawyer guy. But it was Kira.What the hell?
Mom popped out from behind the kitchen door and exclaimed loudly, “Kira, honey, thank you for stopping by!”
Kira smiled sheepishly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she stepped inside, clutching a sketchpad and what looked like a set of pencils in a zippered pouch. She was still in her office clothes—slacks, a silky cream blouse, and low heels that made her walk a little more careful on the diner’s linoleum floors.
Mom hugged Kira, and they spoke in hushed tones. I stared, confused.
“Wait.” Liam chuckled. “Is this some weird ex reuniting stunt?”
“No.” I shook my head. “We’re…complicated.” I wasn’t sure where Kira and I stood yet, but I wasn’t going to talk to my brother about it before her.
