I nod before cutting eye contact. “Well, our moms are in the same book club now. And Ana’s been coming over a lot, so ...” I trail off, and surprisingly, his mouth wears a small smile.
“Just like old times, huh?”
Memories flash of how it really was like old times. Both of our moms practically sleeping over at each other’s houses, Ana dragging Mom to social outings while Mom begged her to stay in. But Liam and I would be happy with it ...We loved to hang out with each other.
His sigh brings me back to reality, and I realize that as much as I wish it to be, this isn’t like old times. Him and me, we’re standing no more than a couple of feet apart, but emotionally, we’re a chasm away. He used to be my best friend, the person who knew me probably better than myself, and I miss that. He clears his throat a bit before he shakes his head and I hug myself a little as a gust of wind blows by.
“Not exactly, but at least they got their friendship back.” Something flickers in his eyes at my comment. Something like doubt or regret, and he sighs dejectedly.
“Yeah. Um, have a good night, Bianca.”
I nod, and he stalks back to his car before Ana comes to my side.
“See you later, cupcake.” She hugs me, then heads toward Liam’s car. When she jumps in, he locks eyes with me for a brief moment, then starts the car and drives off. With a final wave to Patty and everyone else, I make my way back home, a hand over my heart as I try to calm it down.
I hear Mom and Josh before I see them, and I push open the door as quietly as I can.
“Josh, please don’t do that again. It was embarrassing.”
“You said six fifty is when thoselittle meetingsend. The clock says differently, sweetheart.”
Mom chuckles in disbelief, and I freeze, as the whole time I’ve been around her and Josh, they’ve never fought. “It’s ten minutes. I didn’t need the claiming moment you just did.”
“You’re my fiancée, I believe”—he shrugs almost innocently, walking toward her—“I can do what I want.”
“No, you ca—”
He cuts her off. “Listen,hon. Next time, don’t lie about the time, and everything will be fine, okay?”
She shakes her head. “But I did—”
“We’re. Done. Talking.Okay?” The “okay” sounds so sweet, uncannily so. His voice wavers from the emphasis he puts on certain words, and a chill runs down my spine. He’s holding her chin, and with a closer look, his fingers are turning white.
“Okay, Josh,” she says before looking over at me. She breaks free from him and comes to hug me. “Hey, sweetie, sorry we left you back there. Thought you were behind us.” She turns back around and Josh’s eyes dart between the both of us.
“All good, Mom,” I mumble. She kisses me on the forehead while Josh keeps looking at us, tension climbing slowly but surely. His phone rings. He fishes it out of his pocket and exhales at the welcome distraction.
“Callaway.” He turns around, heading toward the kitchen, and I look at Mom when he finally vanishes from view.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
She smiles, but there’s something building in her eyes. Something is going on, I know it. “Of course, baby.” Narrowing my eyes at her, she relents a bit. “Really, it’s all good. We’re going through some growing pains, it’s completely normal.”
Scolding her for being ten minutes late? Not even letting her fully express herself? I’ve never been in a relationship, but evenIknow that’s wrong.
“Mom—” I start before she grabs my hands.
“It’s fine, honey. When you love someone, you love them through their flaws. Plus, I’m so thankful for everything he’s done, and if ...” She sighs. “For me to be able to give you the peace of not having to worry about me. I can deal when there’s some friction.” I want to shake my head as I realize why she just takes it and takes it before she finally waves me off. “I know I had to leave right after dropping you off earlier. How was your first day at the shelter?” She grabs my hands excitedly, sitting us down, and I start talking about my day, but her eyes say something different.
As they say, the eyes never lie.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
LIAM
Isharpen my pencil once again as I draw another tattoo idea on the very last page of a notebook. I’ve been a fountain of ideas right now, all due to a certain blonde. I smudge the shadows a bit, moving to create contrasting lines, a white pencil between my lips. My leg starts to bounce up and down as more ideas pop in my head to try to keep me from thinking about anything else. I begin the freckle pattern, noticing it looks severely similar to hers, and I crumble up the piece of paper, not wanting to even look at my past designs, knowing I’m probably going to make the same connections.
I’m conflicted. I’m unsure. I ... I don’t even know what to call it anymore, and I’mthis closeto losing my mind. I’m sad, and hurt, because Bianca now just brings back horrible feelings. But then, she’s also part of almost every single childhood memory I have. From ice cream trips with my parents to having picnics segueing into stargazing later at night. Memories where I have the biggest smiles on my face, ones where I thought we would be in each other’s lives forever.
