“Family helps family.” Liam squeezes my hand. “Isn’t that right, babe?”
Babe. I’m being charm-bombed, too.
He’s good at this. Too good.
I watch him wipe the scowls from my parents’ faces one gracious answer at a time, equal parts impressed and unsettled. The ease with which he navigates their skepticism. The way he draws them in. Is any of this real? Or is he that skilled at performing whatever role the situation requires?
The pizzas arrive, massive pies with crispy crusts and pools of melted mozzarella, and we eat and talk and pretend we’re a normal family having dinner. My mother relaxes by increments, her pointed questions softening into more standard curiosity. My dad’s clear skepticism gives way to a guarded warmth.
“So,” my father says, setting down his slice and wiping his hands on a napkin. His eyes fix on Liam with renewed intensity. “I have to ask.”
Alarm bells trip in my brain.
“What do you love most about our daughter?”
I stop mid-chew. We rehearsed the backstory and the timeline. But we never rehearsed the why. If Liam fumbles, the farce is over.
But he doesn’t falter.
He turns to face me, but doesn’t put on the gooey, adoring mask I expect. Instead, he levels me with a stare that’s heavy with intent. His gaze so direct and focused it blocks out the rest of the room. It doesn’t feel like an act for the audience, but a look that demands I pay attention.
“What I love most about Peyton?” he intones. “How generous she is. How caring.” His thumb traces another circle on the back of my hand. “She’d do anything for the people she loves.”
My heart hammers against my ribs with the unspoken end of that sentence: Even marry me.
My parents can never discover he’s talking about what I did for them. But Liam’s appreciation for the gesture doesn’t sound fake. He entered this marriage for himself, for his father’s approval. I didn’t. And Liam is letting me know, with that weighted pause, that he’s very aware of the difference.
“I love her courage,” he continues, his gaze still holding mine. “She ran from a wedding because she knew it was a mistake, even if staying would’ve been the easy choice. She refused to live a polite lie just to keep everyone else comfortable. To have that much respect for yourself is a gift, and I cherish that in the partner I chose for life.”
He says it so well. With such conviction. I feel like he actually chose me. Like this isn’t a business arrangement sealed with a Zoom officiant from Utah.
“She’s also sassy as hell.” Liam smirks. “Never lets me get away with anything. Keeps me on my toes.” He glances at my parents. “And she has the weirdest taste in books,” Liam tells them, chuckling. “But then again, I already had every one of her ‘foggy island, haunted manor, murderous-wife’ genres in my house anyway. It’s good to know I’ll always have someone to be weird with.”
My chest cracks open. A fissure that lets light pour through.
“I also love the notes she leaves me on the fridge,” he continues. “Even when they’re veiled threats. Or especially when they’re low-key threats.” He grins. “And I love I didn’t realize how hollow my life was, how empty my house felt, until she moved in.”
The table goes quiet.
My mother’s eyes have gone shiny. She blinks rapidly, reaching for her napkin.
My father’s expression has shifted from skeptical to… respectful? Approving?
While I’m shattering into a thousand pieces right in the booth. Aurora will have to scoop me up like broken glass. Liam has destroyed me. Not for what he said, but because I can’t tell where the performance ends and the truth begins.
Under the table, Liam squeezes my knee.
The gesture could be a reassurance. Celebration. Another piece of the act. Except no one else can see it.
Is it real?
I can’t separate what I want to believe from what I should protect myself from believing. The line has blurred beyond recognition.
Maybe he doesn’t even know.
My mother reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “Sweetheart.” Her voice wobbles. “I’m so happy for you. I can see how much this young man cares about you.”
My father nods, his jaw working. “I had my doubts about the rushed timeline,” he admits. “But seeing you two together…” He clears his throat. “It puts my mind at ease.”
