I didn’t know where to start. Didn’t know how to explain what was happening in my chest, the tangle of feelings I couldn’t sort into anything that made sense.
“You remember what you told me?” Liam said. “When I was tying myself in knots over Riley?”
I shook my head.
“You told me to stop thinking about what could go wrong.” Liam took a sip of his beer. The bottle sweated in the afternoon heat. “You said, ‘Ask yourself what you actually want, and then decide if you’re brave enough to fight for it.’”
The words landed somewhere deep. I remembered saying them. Remembered meaning them. Remembered thinking Liam was being an idiot—throwing away something real because he was scared of wanting it too much.
“So,” Liam said, meeting my gaze, “what do you actually want?”
I didn’t answer.
Couldn’t.
The question lodged in my chest like something with weight, and it wouldn’t let go.
What did I want?
I wanted Grace.
The thought hit before I could brace for it.
Then I stopped lying to myself and let it surface: I wanted to wake up beside her. Wanted to be there when the baby came, to hold her hand through the hard parts, to build something together in that old house her grandmother had loved.
I wanted to stop pretending. Stop being the reliable friend, the helpful neighbor, the man who showed up and asked for nothing in return.
I wanted to be chosen. Not just useful. Not just convenient. Actually—deliberately—chosen.
I wanted, for once in my life, to say what I felt and let the chips fall.
But wanting wasn’t the same as having. And Grace was trying to build a family with Marcus. The biological father. The man she’d loved for eleven years.
Who was I to stand in the way of that?
“It doesn’t matter what I want,” I said finally. “She’s made her choice.”
Liam raised an eyebrow. “Has she?”
“Marcus is the father. He came back. They’re trying to work things out.”
Liam was quiet for a moment. “And you’re just going to step aside? Without ever telling her how you feel?”
“What am I supposed to do, Liam? Make some big declaration while she’s seven months pregnant and trying to figure out her life?”
“I’m not saying make a speech,” he said. “I’m saying be honest.” He shrugged. “She deserves to know where you stand. What she does with that information is up to her.”
I thought about Grace. About the way she’d kissed me in her kitchen. The sound she’d made against my mouth. The look in her eyes before she pulled away.
I’d be using you.
NotI don’t want you.NotI love Marcus.
JustI’d be using you—like she was trying to protect me from something. Like wanting me back was a burden she didn’t think she was allowed to carry.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“Then maybe you should find out.” Liam shrugged. “Instead of sitting out here digging fence posts and feeling sorry for yourself.”
