“Can I… can I sit?” I ask, gesturing to the empty space on the couch beside her.
She nods, a small, jerky motion.
I move from the chair to the couch, the cushions dipping under my weight. We’re close now, our knees almost touching. I can feel the warmth radiating from her skin, a current that passes between us, electric and dangerous.
“Can we just talk about this?” I ask. “Once and for all. No more running. No more hiding.”
She finally looks at me, her green eyes wide and wary. “Okay.”
I take a breath, the words I’ve been holding in for days threatening to spill out. “I was hurt, Millie. When I found out you slept with someone else… it gutted me. I felt like a fool. I was living here, right under your nose, and you went out and found a stranger. It felt like… it felt like you were choosing someone else over me. Over us.”
Her lip begins to tremble, and her eyes well up with tears. “Liam…”
“But then I saw your face,” I continue, my voice cracking. “When you thought I was with Jessica. I saw the look in your eyes. And I knew. I knew you felt it too. That twisting in your gut, that feeling like the world was ending. That’s how I felt, Mills. That’s how I feel every single time I think about you with him.”
A single tear escapes and traces a path down her cheek. “Of course I felt it,” she whispers. “Of course it hurt. I love you, Liam.”
The words hang in the air between us, a raw, beautiful, and terrible truth.
“That’s the problem,” she says, her voice breaking. “Don’t you see? That’s the whole problem. I love you so much, and that’s why I can’t… I can’t do this.”
“Why not?” I ask, my heart pounding. “If we love each other, why can’t we just… be together?”
“Because one fight,” she says, her voice rising with a desperation that cuts me to the core. “One stupid, horrible fight, and you left. You packed a bag and you left. So you see why I can’t risk this? If we’re just friends and we fight, we have a foundation to come back to. But if we’re more… if we’re everything… and you leave like that again? It wouldn’t just break my heart, Liam. It would destroy me.”
And there it is. The brutal, undeniable truth. I look at her, at her tear-streaked face and her trembling lip, and all I can see is the pain I caused. All my pride, all my hurt, it all just dissolves into a sea of regret.
“I fucked up,” I say, the words a raw confession. “Oh, God, Mills. I fucked up so bad.”
I reach for her, pulling her across the small space between us and into my lap. She comes willingly, her body collapsing against mine, her face buried in the crook of my neck. I wrap my arms around her, holding her as tight as I can, trying to piece together the broken parts I’m responsible for shattering.
“Baby,” I whisper into her hair, the word a familiar comfort. “I am so, so sorry.”
She cries against my shoulder, her body shaking with the force of her sobs, and I just hold her, rocking her gently. I press my lips to her hair, breathing in her scent, trying to memorize this feeling, this moment of pure, unadulterated connection.
“We need to figure out what to do,” I say. “You and me. We need to figure this out.”
She pulls back slightly, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen. “Yeah,” she whispers, her voice hoarse. “I don’t know.”
“I know,” I say, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with my thumb. “But we’ll figure it out together. I promise.”
“I missed you,” she whispers, the words muffled against my shoulder. They’re small, fragile things, but they land with the force of a punch, stealing the air from my lungs. I hold her tighter, burying my face in the soft cascade of her hair, breathing in the scent that has been my solace and my torment for years.
“I missed you too, Mills,” I murmur. “So much.”
It’s an understatement. It feels like I’ve been walking around with a limb missing, the constant, dull ache of her absence, even when she was right there in front of me.
A soft weight settles on my leg, and I look down to see Nimbus has claimed the remaining space in my lap. He begins to knead my thigh with his paws, his purr a loud, rumbling engine that vibrates through both of us.
A real, genuine smile touches Millie’s lips as she watches him, her eyes still watery but now filled with a soft light. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in weeks.
She shifts slightly, pulling back just enough to look at me. “Do you… do you have to head to Maddox’s?” The question is hesitant, laced with a fear she tries to hide.
“No,” I say firmly. “I’m not going anywhere.” A boldness I didn’t know I possessed surges through me. “In fact,” I continue, a slow grin spreading across my face, “how about I teach you this game? I always beat Maddox anyway. It’s about time I had a real challenge.”
A laugh escapes her, a bright, clear sound that chases away the last of the shadows in the room. “You’re on.”
We stay like that for a while longer, a tangle of limbs and contented cat, before she says, “You’ll stay for dinner, right?”
