“I did. I made her dinner, she came in all excited, then her mood did a one-eighty when she realized I wasn’t using my cane anymore. She said she didn’t feel good, had a headache, and that she wanted to go to bed, so I let her. That was four hours ago. She hasn’t come back out. I’m pretty sure she’s avoiding me, but I don’t know why,” I tell her.
“Weird,” she agrees. “Did she say anything else?”
“Nothing, just asked when I was going to be done with my rehab program. I told her in two or three weeks.”
“Oh, Liam . . .” she starts. “Why did you move in with Sloane?”
“Because of rehab,” I answer her, not understanding where she’s going with this.
She doesn’t say anything for a few moments.
“And?” she finally says.
“And what?” I ask.
“Liam, you moved in for rehab. Now rehab is done,” she says in aduhmanner.
Now it’s my turn to ask. “And?”
“Oh my God, you’re really going to make me spell it out for you, aren’t you?” she asks. She doesn’t give me the chance to reply before continuing. “She thinks you’re moving out.”
“Why would she think that?” I ask out loud. That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.
“Did you tell her you were staying?” Summer sasses back.
“No, but—” I start but she cuts me off.
“Have you told her you love her? That you never want to let her go?”
“No, but—” I go to start again, only to be cut off by my lovely little sister again.
“So, she’s supposed to read your mind, too?” she asks, sarcasm and sass dripping from her voice.
“No. But—” Again, I’m cut off.
“Stop being an idiot and ask her if you can stay with her even when you’re done with your program,” she tells me, in herno nonsensevoice. “Now, I have to go, but call me if you need anything else. Love you.”
She doesn’t wait for my response, just hangs up.
All right. So, I just need to tell Sloane I love her and that I want to permanently move in with her. It’s the truth, so it shouldn’t be hard to tell her.
I was wrong. It was very hard.
Chapter 35
Present
I’m a coward. There’s no other way to put it. I’m also a horrible person. Liam is finally walking on his own, yet, I can’t be happy for him. I was shocked when I got home almost a week ago and he was walking without a cane. For a few seconds, I was ecstatic for him. But then he told me he was done with rehab in two to three weeks, meaning he wouldn’t have to live with me anymore. So, like the coward I am, I’ve avoided him.
I’ve been leaving for university earlier than needed, staying late, and I’ve faked more than one headache in the last week. I know he knows I’m avoiding him. I was really expecting him to say something, but every time I say I have a headache, or that I’m not feeling well, he just tilts his head to the side, asks if I want anything, and tells me to go take a shower. And when I come out, there’s a mug of tea and a plate of food sitting on my dresser or my nightstand along with a little note or doodle.
He’s waiting for me to tell him what’s going on, I just don’t want to face the reality. I can’t. I don’t want him to move back to Vancouver. I don’t want to be away fromhim. I know that we could do the long distance thing, but I don’t want to. I want to be with him. I want to kiss him goodbye before leaving for work, and come home to him every night.
I want to keep finding little notes everywhere, and to paint more pottery together. I don’t want to go back to a world without Liam consuming every aspect of my life, but I can’t move to Vancouver, and Liam’s life is out there. So, I’ve been avoiding him like a coward.
Which is why I’m still at work at ten p.m. on a Friday. And it’s raining. And I walked this morning, for some unknown reason. And my phone is dead and my charger is still sitting on my nightstand. I need to go home, but I don’t want to face reality. Who would have thought that in three short months I would go from not ever wanting to see Liam Jones ever again to never wanting a day to go by without seeing him.
I called Cassie this morning. She already knew some of it, but I hadn’t told her that Liam and I were pretty much dating. So, I called her over lunch and told her everything. From the lasagna, to the pottery, to the making me breakfast, lunch, and dinner the last eight weeks, to him only sleeping in my bed, to joking about getting another dog, and to him being done with his rehab program at the university in two weeks. And finally, I told her that I didn’t want to let him go.
