I scoff. “Liam? Scared? That man’s biggest fear is running out of hair gel.”
Elizabeth giggles, a tiny sound like a bell, her whole face lighting up. “You don’t really believe that.”
I sigh and brush some flyaways out of my face. “No. Maybe I don’t. But I can’t stay there tonight, Liz. Not when I’m this mad. I’ll say something I can’t take back. I should probably grab a hotel room or something. I’m terrible company. I shouldn’t have barged in here like this.”
“No! You can absolutely stay here,” she says immediately. “Of course you can. I’ll make up the guest bed.”
“Or we can keep drinking until I pass out on your couch,” I mutter.
She smiles. “Whatever you need.”
My phone pings.
Liam: You make it to Elizabeth’s?
I scowl at the message.
Me: Yes.
Liam: Thanks for the thorough update, beauty. Everything okay?
Me: Elizabeth’s fine. I’m fine. We’re having wine.
There. He wants a report? He got one. I’m so fucking fine.
Liam: So…not fine.
Ugh. Why is he like this?
Me: Don’t start.
Liam: I’m not. Just checking in before my wife does something reckless.
Me: Funny. I didn’t realize marriage came with a probation officer.
Liam: It doesn’t. I just like knowing you’re safe. And not planning my execution.
Me: No promises.
Liam: Good. I wouldn’t believe you anyway.
Me: Leave me alone, Liam.
Liam: Can’t. You’re my wife. Something’s off. I can feel it.
Me: Maybe I’m just seeing things clearly for the first time.
Liam: Then maybe I’d like to know what you’re seeing.
Me: Not over text.
Liam: Then come home and say it to my face.
Me: Good night, Liam.
Liam: If you’re not back by tomorrow, I’m coming to get you. And I won’t knock.
“Liam?”
