Page 60 of Liam (Preston Brothers #4)

Liam

For the next week, Addie and I fall into a routine. She texts me throughout the day, about anything and everything. I always reply. At around nine, she’ll send her last text of the night, asking me to come over.

Of course, I do.

Addie had mentioned in her texts that Griffin’s mom was able to fly down from Tennessee to help with the boys who are with them so Dayna could stay a few extra days. She wants to be here while Addie has her daily therapy sessions, just in case.

They’re all staying at Mia’s dad’s house while she’s here.

When I show up to the house, they’re usually all in the living room, watching TV. I join them, but I don’t talk.

Because Addie doesn’t talk.

She saves everything she has to say for our text messages.

And at night—when we’re in bed together.

We whisper the things we want to say, so Dayna and Roman don’t know she’s talking.

She doesn’t want them to know she’s speaking to me, but not them.

Not because she wants to hide things from them, but because she’s not ready to speak about the things they want her to open up about.

And with me—she feels like she can talk about anything else.

And she can.

And I’ll listen to every word.

Roman called me after the first couple of nights, asked if she ever talked to me, and as much as it hurt me to betray Addie’s trust, I told him the truth. Yes, she speaks, but never about anything important. He seemed relieved, told me he was grateful she was speaking at all.

Right before we lock ourselves in the bedroom, Dayna hands me a plate of food. Not for me, but for Addie. Apparently, she doesn’t eat when I’m not around, so I practically force her to when I am.

I realize how ridiculous it is—to be doing things in private like we are—and I can’t even imagine how hard it must be for Dayna and Roman, to think I have some magic spell that they don’t.

I don’t.

I just do whatever works for Addie.

For now.

But I know as much as anyone that this can’t go on forever.

It’s not healthy.

It’s… childish almost—getting under the covers and whispering to each other, as if we’re divulging secrets no one else knows, but… I’m with Roman on this one—I’m just glad she’s speaking at all.

With every day that passes, I can see the change in her, and I hope it’s time, plus therapy, that’s making the difference and not her “climbing to the peak” just so she can jump when she gets to the top.

I fall asleep every night with her in my arms, and it’s more than enough for me. And, since she’s the one who keeps asking me to come back, I assume it’s more than enough for her, too.

Addie

Hey

Liam

Hey back

Addie

I know it’s early, but can you come over now? Have dinner with us?

Addie

The only sounds at the kitchen table come from the silverware as it scrapes along the plates. Well, everyone else’s plates. I haven’t even touched my fork.

It’s been like this for over a week now, and I don’t like it.

I don’t like the silence I’ve forced onto the people I care about the most, and it’s not as if I wanted it to be like this.

I don’t want this to be the way I deal with my emotions.

I don’t want everyone to walk on eggshells around me, like they are right now.

Even Liam seems uncomfortable. To be fair, I didn’t tell Dayna and Roman I invited him here, because I don’t tell Dayna and Roman anything.

Not even through texts. They’re hurting.

I can tell that they are, but… up until earlier today, I didn’t know how to fix it. How to reassure them I would be okay.

Up until earlier today… I honestly didn’t know if I would be.

“I had a breakthrough at therapy today.”

The scraping stops. All eyes turn to me. Roman swallows his food, lowers his fork to his plate.

It’s the first time anyone’s heard my full voice since everything came to light.

Liam flicks his gaze between Roman and Dayna, then back to me. I’ve talked to him… in whispers, but never about my therapy sessions.

“That’s good, right?” Roman asks, the hopefulness in his eyes tugging at my heart.

I nod, and he sits back in his chair, releasing the breath he’d been holding.

“Do you want to—” Dayna starts, then cuts off quickly. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry. I don’t want to push you.”

“I think…” I look over at Liam, and he nods once, encouraging, even though he has no clue what I’m about to say. “I think I’m ready to talk about it. Not… the memories that came back to me… but about the breakthrough I had. Well, two of them, actually.”

“Okay…” Dayna says. “We’re ready when you are.”

I adjust in my seat, trying to find the courage and the words to begin my explanation.

Not so much for me, but for them , so they can understand why I am the way I am.

“We—my therapist and I—figured out why I shut down the way I do.” I keep my gaze lowered, my body rocking back and forth on its own.

“Why I stop talking, and eating, and sleeping…” I swallow the knot in my throat.

“Whenever I brought it up with my parents—the man who took the photos of me—they would tell me to keep my mouth shut, and as punishment for mentioning it, they’d starve me.

” I glance up at Roman, then right back down when I see the tears in his eyes.

“When you picked me up from school that time, you asked me if it was the longest I’d gone without food, and I lied to you.

I’m sorry. I was scared. And that fear never went away—that fear of revealing too much…

so I shut down. Keep my mouth shut like I should’ve back then.

I’m scared to eat—eating isn’t part of the punishment, and I can’t sleep, because I’m afraid when I open my eyes… he’ll be there again.”

“He’ll never be there again,” Roman spits, and I lift my eyes to his. “You know that, right, Addie?”

“I know,” I say, and I can’t stop rocking, can’t stop fidgeting with my clothes. “But…”

“But what, sweetheart?” Dayna encourages.

“But…” I stand, no longer able to sit still, and I pace, tiny steps one way, tiny steps back.

I can’t look at any of them when I speak, too filled with fear of their reaction.

“My therapist says—and I think she’s right…

. there are two sides to me—not like, bipolar or a personality disorder, but…

” I trail off, searching my mind for the right words.

“There’s the version of me now, headstrong, confident, stubborn, almost—always in fight-or-flight mode because I’m constantly trying to protect that little girl,” I cry, try to breathe through the pain.

“And then, there’s a part of me who is that little girl.

” I wipe at the tears, release the sob I’ve been hanging on to since this morning’s breakthrough.

“That little girl who knows right from wrong, but can’t do anything about it.

The one who couldn’t show her emotions, and now struggles to regulate them.

Sometimes, I’m that little girl who’s trying to find her innocence, because it was stolen from her, and because—” I can’t see through my tears, can’t breathe through the anguish, and suddenly, I’m that little girl in her big brother’s arms while he shields her from the evils of the world, even when he knows it’s too damn late.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I’m sorry I haven’t been?—”

“Addie, stop, please.” His arms tremble, loosen around me. “We’re going to get through this, okay?”

I nod, sure of it. And turn to Dayna standing right beside me. “I’m going to be okay. I promise.”

“I know, Addie,” she cries, pulling me into her embrace. “And we’ll all be right here with you.”

Liam comes next, and I fall into his arms, lay my head on his chest. His heartbeat has been my only source of comfort for days now. “Thank you for being so patient with me.”

“Are you kidding?” he murmurs. “I’ve waited fifteen years for you, Addie. I’d wait a hundred and fifteen more.”