I open my mouth, but she raises a hand. “I’m not going to tell you you’re wrong to be upset. You overheard something that hurt you. And if I were in your shoes, I’d probably be angry about it too. But”—she pauses, brushing her hair back behind her ear—“I think maybe you need to take a breath and talk to Liam before you decide what this all means.”
My shoulders tense.
“I mean—” She hesitates, choosing her words with care. “You heardpartof a conversation. You’re filling in the rest with the worst-case scenario. And I get that. But this is your husband now. Things are different.”
I scowl. “Different how?”
“Different like, if you’re going to build something real with him, you can’t shut the door without even asking what’s really going on. You need answers, not assumptions. And you deserve to hear them from him.”
I stare at the water bottle in my hands.
“I’m not saying you have to forgive anything,” she adds. “But I think you need to find out if there’s something to forgive. Because this might be a misunderstanding. Or it might not. Either way, you can’t know unless you talk to him.”
She leans over and gently squeezes my arm. “Tell him you want your money back. Tell him you need clarity. But tell him. You don’t have to blow up your life before you’ve even asked for the truth.”
I take a long sip of water, trying to keep my emotions from boiling over again. “How am I supposed to trust him? I thought we were finally getting somewhere. I thought he got me. And then I hear him talking like I’m just some problem to manage.”
Elizabeth leans back, adjusting her position on the couch. “I know it feels like that right now. But you don’t know what he meant unless you ask him.”
She gives me a small, sympathetic smile. “You married Liam. That means something. You’re not just engaged anymore—you’re partners. And yeah, maybe the start of it was forced, and maybe it’s all complicated and messy, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re in this together now.”
I close my eyes. “That’s just it. We’re not. It feels like he’s making all these moves behind my back. Deciding what I need without asking. Protecting me like I’m breakable.”
She nods. “That seems to be his default setting when it comes to you. And you may not have noticed, but it’s not always gentle or completely thought out. I mean, have you seen Sam around campus? He’s still black and blue.”
I look at her sharply.
“I’m not saying it was the healthiest response,” she says, hands up. “But it’s very… Liam.”
That actually earns a small laugh from me. “It is.”
Elizabeth nudges my knee with hers. “You said youthoughthe understood you. Maybe he does. But guys are kind of idiots. Even the smart ones.”
I huff. “That’s reassuring.”
“I think you should give him a chance to meet you where you are. Tell him what you heard. What you think. What you want. You’reallowedto set boundaries. And then see what he does. Maybe he’ll disappoint you again. Or, maybe he won’t.”
I nod slowly. “Yeah. Okay.”
But I don’t mention the fund. Not yet. That conversation can wait. Because no matter what Liam says, I need to be ready for the possibility that he’s not who I hoped he was. I’m not handing him a loaded gun and hoping he doesn’t use it to kill my future.
And the first step toward ensuring that?
I’m moving that money.
LIAM
This is stupid. Stupid. It’s almost midnight, and I’ve gotten in and out of bed three times. Had two beers. Opened my business ethics paper—what a joke—and closed it again. Moved shit around in my drawers. Rummaged through the fridge. And I’ve reread the text exchange with my wife a dozen times.
My beauty: Maybe I’m just seeing things clearly for the first time.
What in the absolute fuck is that supposed to mean?
That’s it. I’m going to get her. I told her I’d come for her tomorrow, and by the time I get to Elizabeth’s, it’ll be after midnight. Officially tomorrow. Taryn’s bratty ass has had enough time to sulk over whatever has her in her latest snit. I’m pulling on pants when my phone lights up with Ryan’s name.
Shit.
“What’s wrong?” I answer on the first ring. If Ryan is calling after eleven, something’s bad.
