What the hell? Is he serious? “What?”
He turns to look at me and his blue eyes are glowing. “I said: Did. He. Stay. The. Night.” His jaw looks ready to crack, he’s clenching it so hard.
I shake my head because I can’t believe this is happening.
“It’s nine o’clock in the fucking morning, Taryn. It’s a reasonable question,” he says coolly. He seems to be regaining his composure. Slowly. With effort.
Oh. Yeah. I guess it is early. Given that I woke up at the crack of dawn, I hadn’t considered that. There’s a part of me that wants to refuse to answer him, because—fuck him. But, I remember that I need him to be on my side. I need his help in getting out of this farce of an engagement.
“He showed up this morning. Not that long ago.”
He studies my face and I scowl at him. I’m not a liar. I’d gladly tell him I fucked Sam if that had been the case. And, I’d bet good money Liam didn’t go home alone last night. Regardless, he seems resigned to my honesty because he nods and restarts the car.
It’s less than a ten minute drive to the diner, and we make the trip in silence. When we pull in the parking lot, Liam turns to me.
“We can talk about this now, or we can talk about it in there”—he nods toward the restaurant—“but I don’t want us seeing other people now that everyone knows about the engagement.” He says the words calmly, steadily, yet in a rush, as if it’s taken him the car ride to get his thoughts together, and now that he has, he needs to get them out.
“I told you he didn’t stay the night,” I grit out defensively, getting angry again. Liam hasn’t accused me of anything, but for some ridiculous reason, it feels like he’s calling me a whore.
He closes his eyes, leans his head back against the headrest. Takes a breath. “I know. I believe you.” He turns to look at me. “But, for a few minutes in your doorway, I thought he had, and I was honestly going to kill him. I don’t like feeling like that, so I thought it was best to be clear.”
I don’t have any words. I’ve gone to school with him for almost four years. Liam’s always been this fun, smiling, don’t-take-life-too-seriously kind of guy. Everybody likes Liam because he’s undeniably likable. Yet, he is as serious as a heart attack right now.
“Look. I get that you don’t want this. You’ve made that clear. I’m happy to talk more about that, but I can’t think of a single way to prevent me from putting a ring on your finger later tonight.”
I feel sick. Last Sunday, I was joking around with Elizabeth, arguing about which of the three pizza places near campus is the best. We’d slept in after a girls’ night of movies, skipped the diner, and couldn’t agree on the basics of what makes a good pizza so we could order lunch. That feels like a lifetime ago. I’m sure my parents were already talking about my marriage at that point. All while acting as if nothing was wrong. Like everything was right with the world. At the exact same time I was rehearsing my speech about Stanford. How it was only for a few years. How I would eventually come home. All lies. From me. From them.
“We should go inside,” Liam says flatly, and I realize I haven’t answered him. He probably thinks I’m a petulant brat. Sitting in his passenger seat, sulking. Truth be told, I kinda am acting like a spoiled princess who didn’t get her way, but it’s not who I want to be. Yet, becoming Mrs. Liam McGuiness isn’t what I want for my future either.
I’m about to say something when Liam opens his door and shuffles around the car to my side. He opens my door and extends his hand. I wasn’t expecting the chivalry, but his usually present smile is back. I offer my hand in return, and we walk into the diner holding hands because he doesn’t let go. I sort of get it because it’s a bit icy in the parking lot, but he continues to hold on as he waits for us to be seated. I consider pulling away, but it would cause a scene that I’m not ready for.
I can feel him against my back as we’re led across the dingy linoleum to an empty booth, and it’s impossible not to sense the stares. My shoulders stiffen from the weight of them. School is back in session on Monday and it seems everyone has returned from break. I’m not exactly sure why they all had to get breakfast at the same time as us. I would have expected this for Sunday brunch but not on a Saturday. Nothing stays quiet long at St. A’s. According to Sam, we’re all over social media. Just great.
Liam waits for me to slide into the booth before he takes a seat across from me. He orders coffee while I assure the hostess that I’m fine with just the water. I’m already over-caffeinated. Liam flips open his menu as if anything about Rena’s has changed in the time we’ve been at school. He’s biding his time, and I’m sure it relates to the way this morning started off.
“Liam.” I try to keep my voice low, quiet. I feel like the whole restaurant is listening in. “I need you to know that I’m not trying to be a bitch.” His eyes dart up from his menu and he opens his mouth, but our waitress picks then to stop by our booth. She takes our orders, and I may be crazy, but she seems to be ultra focused on my soon-to-be fiancé. Her gaze lingers a little too long, as if she’s waiting to catch his eye. She leans too low to show off her cleavage as she refills his cup. He ignores her as he continues to study me.
“I know this is difficult for you,” Liam responds, and it takes me a second to realize he means our upcoming engagement, not the waitress’s attention.
“I know I’m not reacting well. I don’t typically get drunk to chase away my problems.” I don’t know why I need him to know that. I shouldn’t care what he thinks of me.
He shakes his head. “You had a rough night. It’s understandable. No need to beat yourself up over it. Besides, the evening is over now.”
I meet his eyes and decide to go for honesty. “I hate this engagement.” He looks like I slapped him. I hurry to continue. “It’s not about you, Liam. I don’t even know you that well. It’s just that—I mean, this is my life. Ya know? Well, I mean, yeah, of course you get it. I always thought I’d leave here. Leave this entire life behind. Become a lawyer. Fall in love. Get married. Have children someday. I, um, had a timeline. But, well, more importantly, it was all going to bemychoice. And, now—” I shudder. God. This is so depressing.
“You wanted to leave this life behind? You mean the clan?” he repeats with pure curiosity. “Wait. Did you say you want to be alawyer? How did you think that would work? With your family, I mean. Or, do you mean that you want to join Rowan’s legal team?”
“I recently got accepted to Stanford Law.” His eyes pop at this and I continue, “I’ve been saving money.For years.I had planned to tell my parents, but then they dropped the engagement news on me.”
He considers this. “Didn’t you think you’d have to marry someone in New York eventually? I mean, why didn’t you want to go to Columbia or someplace nearby?”
I shrug. This is wild. He’s not questioning the lawyer part. As far as I know, none of the clan’s wives are lawyers. I’m not aware of a single one with a professional career. Maybe things are different in Chicago. The truth is, I don’t want to find out. I already went to the undergraduate college my father chose for me. Now, I want to forge my own path. Be in charge of my own life. I don’t want a husband to dictate where I will or won’t work. Who I can and can’t become.
“That’s the thing. I thought if I could escape to California, they might forget about marrying me off too quickly. I wanted to buy some time. I used to think that since Da wasn’t very high ranking, after a couple years, no one would care if I fell in love and got married on the West Coast. I’m one of six. I have brothers and sisters who can marry within the clan.” And that would enable me to have the career I want along with anormalhusband. One who wasn’t going to tell me what to do all the time. I leave that part out.
“Your father isn’t so low ranking anymore, Taryn.”
“No,” I sigh. “But, now that Da is taking on more responsibility with Rowan, I thought he’d be too busy to notice. I honestly thought it could work in my favor.”
