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A lmost nine years.

Almost nine years had passed since the last time I saw Beckett Ashmore.

The one man who shattered my heart.

Since he left, love hadn’t felt safe. It hadn’t even felt real.

He ended it for me.

“Have you heard the fucking news?!” My brother burst through the front door, looking as though he would combust in a split second. His auburn curls flopped down on his forehead as his deep brown eyes narrowed with anger.

“Harry, language!” I snapped, holding my hand out towards Liam who was luckily devouring his bowl of cereal.

“Yeah, Uncle H, language.” He clearly wasn’t too entranced by his breakfast to miss me scolding Harry.

“Sorry, mate,” Harry held up his hand in a silent apology before cocking his head towards the hall and giving me that look that told me to meet him out there.

“What’s going on?” I whispered as I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms, knowing what he wanted to complain about wasn’t appropriate for Liam’s ears.

“He’s coming home, that prick is coming back here.”

“You’ve lost me completely.” I sighed, oblivious to who he meant.

But Harry’s jaw had tightened, his eyes shadowed with something colder than confusion—something closer to betrayal.

“Beckett fucking Ashmore.” He seethed. “He got injured. Apparently, it could be a career ender for him.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say. He broke my heart. He didn’t give a shit about Liam, so why should I care?” I hid my upset well. The truth was that I did care. More than I should have, but I couldn’t show it.

My family hated him from the moment he made it clear he wanted nothing to do with me and our baby. My brother hated him a whole lot more than our parents though. Harry and Beckett were best friends growing up. Harry warned Beckett not to hurt me endless times, and he promised him that he wouldn’t. He’d promised him that he would protect my heart with his life. And then one day, all the promises he made ended up broken.

“Because if he’s around, he’ll see you and Liam.”

“I can make it as though that man never existed, believe me. He wanted nothing to do with either of us, it won’t be hard.” Another lie. It would be harder than I anticipated, and I knew it. “How did you find out anyway?”

“I follow sports, Em.” He sighed, draping his arm over my shoulder. “I knew he got hurt, but I didn’t know he was coming home until I saw a picture of him at Manchester airport.”

“I doubt he’ll come around here. His parents moved the second he bought them that house thirty minutes away.” I half smiled. More than anything, it was to convince myself that everything would be fine.

“Maybe it’s better that way,” Harry said. “Besides, his parents don’t even know about Liam.”

“I’m surprised he never mentioned it to them.” I shrugged, resting my head on Harry’s shoulder. Whether or not Beckett’s family knew about his child wasn’t my business.

"My guess is that he was too ashamed." He huffed. "Coward."

I swallowed the worry of what Beckett being back meant. It landed in my stomach like a pebble plopping into a pond. I knew it'd sit there and fester, but I had other things to concern myself with.

"Yeah," I mumbled, "Are you ready to take Liam to football practice?"

“Of course, it’s my day with my little mate.”

Liam bounded through the doorway, not taking a second before he leapt into Harry’s arms.

“There’s my best friend.” Harry beamed.

“Uncle H, am I really your best friend?” Liam’s face lit up as bright as a Christmas tree the second the words left Harry’s mouth.

“Of course. Who else would I be talking about?”

“Good point!” Liam smashed his lips against Harry’s cheek as my brother’s lips split into a massive grin. “I’ll get my boots on!”

“Good lad.” Harry placed Liam on the floor before turning his attention back to me. “Listen, there’s something else I want to talk to you about. When are you ever going to say yes to Mike?”

“Never, I don’t want to date another one of your friends. Look what happened with the last one.” I scoffed, not wanting to say his name when Harry said it too many times as it was. “I don’t want to date. I can’t.”

“It’s been almost nine years. One day you’re going to have to. Besides, Mike already knows about Liam.”

“I don’t care if it’s been one hundred bloody years. I don’t want to give my heart to anyone else other than my little boy. It took longer than I’d ever want to mend it, and I don’t want to go through that again.” I stalked off to the kitchen, not wanting to listen to him anymore.

I might not have dated since Beckett left, but I didn’t need the reminder. Every time I tried putting myself out there, something stopped me. Some buried feeling crept back up and scared away my chance at happiness.

“But Mike?—”

“Drop the Mike subject, alright? I don’t fancy him, I don’t want to date him, and I don’t want him or anyone else to play stepdad to Liam, okay?!”

My chest rose and fell with the force of words that had been trapped inside me for far too long. As I ran a hand through my hair, I hesitated, torn between the urge to finally speak and the fear of what those words might unleash. With a reluctant sigh, I turned away, caught in the turmoil of my own emotions.

Harry held up his hand, surrendering. “Alright, subject dropped.” Harry kissed my temple, hugging me tightly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Uncle H, let’s go. I can’t be late!” Liam shouted from the front door, stomping his boots on the welcome mat. I knew this, not because I could see him, but because he did this every time we left the house. That, and the sound of rubber smacking against the hardwood floors reminded me of how far we had come.