It didn't matter. It couldn't matter.
This was an arrangement. A contract. One year of pretending, and then we'd go back to our separate lives. He'd find someone who actually wanted the ranch and the horses and the small-town life. I'd take Mia somewhere safe and start over. Again.
I couldn't let this feel real. Couldn't let myself depend on someone who was contractually obligated to leave.
But I felt the imprint of his hand on mine for hours afterward, and no amount of logic could make it fade.
That evening, I paused in the hallway.
Voices drifted in from the living room. Liam’s low rumble, steady and familiar—and beneath it, something that made me stop short. Mia’s voice. Lighter. Animated in a way I hadn’t heard in a long time.
I crept closer, stopping just outside the doorway where I could see without being seen.
They were at the coffee table, homework spread between them. Mia was hunched over a math worksheet, pencil tapping against the paper, her brow furrowed in concentration. Liam sat beside her, close enough to see the problems but not crowding her space.
"Okay," he said after a brief pause, his finger sliding back along the paper, "so if X equals three, and you plug that back into the equation..."
"I hate equations," Mia muttered.
"Everyone hates equations. That's why they invented calculators."
"Then why can't I use a calculator?"
"Because your teacher is a sadist." He leaned back, stretching his arms over his head. "Also because knowing how to do it by hand builds character. Or so I've been told."
"By who?"
"My grandmother. She also thought walking uphill both ways to school built character, so take it with a grain of salt."
Mia's mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, but close. Closer than I'd seen in months.
Something cracked in my chest.
This was what she deserved. What I'd been trying to give her for two years and failing. Stability. Safety. Someone who showed up, who sat beside her and helped with homework and made terrible jokes until she almost smiled.
Not yelling. Not fear. Someone who didn’t hurt her.
The thought settled in slowly, heavy and unavoidable. And it scared me how much it felt like relief.
Because it was borrowed. Temporary. All of it. A one-year lease on a life that was never meant to be ours. When the contract ended, when the court case was settled and the ranch was secured, we'd walk away. Liam would go back to looking for someone real.
The ring on my finger caught the light from the living room. Simple gold, warm against my skin. Chosen with more care than a fake marriage required.
I twisted it unconsciously, watching my sister almost-smile at a man who wasn't obligated to care about her.
Wondering why that made everything harder.
Liam glanced up then, like he'd felt me watching. His eyes found mine across the dim hallway, and he smiled. Not the easy grin he gave everyone. Something quieter. Something that looked almost like relief.
Like he was glad I was there. Like my presence mattered, even from a distance.
"Riley?" Mia's voice pulled his attention back. "Can you help with number twelve?"
"Sure thing."
But his eyes lingered on me for one more beat before he turned away. Long enough for something to pass between us—something I couldn't name but felt in my chest, warm and dangerous and impossible to dismiss.
I stood in the shadows, heart pounding for reasons I didn't want to examine, and realized the danger wasn't that I was starting to want him.
