Page 94

“I’d stand in front of a bullet for Skye,” I say, “and for Romeo and for all three of my aunts. They were strict, but I knew they loved me and kind of gave up their lives to take care of me.”

“Do you think they regret it?” he says.

I shake my head. “No, I don’t think so, but then, do we ever really know what someone really feels inside?”

“True. I don’t know that we do. You know, my sister always tells me that she doesn’t mind being a single mother and that her daughter is the most important thing in her life, but…” He looks away,

“What?”

“I shouldn’t really tell you this. I don’t want to be disloyal.”

“Okay,” I say, touching his arm gently. “You don’t have to tell me, but I promise I would never say anything to anyone.”

“I know,” he says. “I trust you.” He gives me a warm smile.

“Well, one night, I found her sobbing while she was watching a movie, so I said, ‘Sis, you need to stop watching these sappy movies,’ and she said, ‘Well, it's just so sad. She’s all alone, and she didn’t think it would be like this.’ Let’s just say we delved into it, and I realized that she wasn’t sad about the character; she was sad for herself.”

“Aww, so what happened with the father, if I can ask.”

Liam let out a deep sigh. “They were casually getting to know each other, I don’t even want to say friends with benefits because that’s giving it too much of a standing.”

“Was it a one-night stand?” I ask.

“You could say something like that: a three-night stand.” He blinks and shrugs. “I think that my sister fell for him, though she’s never really admitted it. He was a good old lad. Wanted to get his leg up and over, if you know what I mean. He wasn’t looking for anything, and when he found out she was pregnant, he gave her twenty grand and said, ‘Don’t ever contact me again.’”

He looks angry. “She deserved better than that.”

I nod. “I’m sorry. That has to be really hurtful.”

“I’m sure it was. I know it was,” he says, correcting himself. “That’s why I never let a woman think that I want anything more than I do, and that’s why I don’t date or…well, you know.” He shrugs.

“No, I don’t,” I tell him seriously. Then ask, “What?”

“I mean, I don’t tend to see a woman more than a couple of times. I don’t want them to feel like it’s going anywhere if it’s not.”

“So, you just truly never want a girlfriend, and you never want to get married, and…”

“I mean, I’m open to it if there’s a spark in there, something, but”—he stares at me—“I can’t say I’ve felt that spark with many people.”

“Oh, okay. Wow, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I mean, if I ever did feel that spark, I guess I’d have to marry them. Whether it be for life or not, who knows?” He shrugs.

“I guess so.” I swallow hard.

“Maybe I would marry for love, or maybe I would marry to help them out.”

“Okay. What do you mean by ‘help them out?’ You mean if you knock them up?”

“If I were to get a woman pregnant, I would like to think I would marry her. I would like to think that I would think about my unborn child first.”

“Okay. How very noble of you. I suppose it’s the British in you.”

“I don’t know about that,” he says. “But, you know, sometimes we men make rash decisions; sometimes we want to be a savior even in situations where we can’t be.”

“Okay. I mean, isn’t that like everyone in life? We all want to be able to help everyone, but we can’t always do that.”

“That is true. You know, I never thought I would get married,” he says slowly, his eyes staring into mine.