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Chapter Forty-Three

“ I need to talk to you,” Liam said, the words guaranteed to make my heart stop beating in my chest.

It was morning. I had one leg up on the stool while the other dangled lazily as I ate my bowl of cereal. Everything was normal, and I was oddly relaxed, given everything that had happened with my mom the night before.

But those words… they sent something in me into overdrive.

We need to talk.

About what? About how I’d been here almost two months already?

Or maybe about my perverse lack of boundaries and the fact that I’d taken up permanent residency in his bed every night?

He said he didn’t mind, but I should’ve known he was just being polite. I mean, how often did I tell people I didn’t mind something when I clearly did?

“About what?” I asked, preparing for the blow.

“Thanksgiving,” he said, and everything in me relaxed.

“Oh,” I said in relief, though my heart still hadn’t managed to return to a normal rhythm yet. “Next time, please don’t start a sentence with ‘We need to talk.’ That’s practically code for ‘ I’m breaking up with you. ’” I played it off humorously before cringing and realizing that maybe he’d read too much into that.

He raised a brow at me.

“That was a joke.” I blinked at him. “I mean, obviously. It’s not like we’re dating. I only meant that’s a surefire way to get someone’s anxiety up.”

He stared at me, smirking.

“Anyway,” I said, my voice high-pitched, “What about Thanksgiving did you want to talk about?”

He cleared his throat. “I want you to come with me,” he said, clearing his throat awkwardly. “To my family’s house.”

“What?”

Whatever I was expecting him to say, it wasn’t that.

“I don’t know if you had plans with your mom or whatever. But I was hoping that you’d come with me.”

I immediately felt my walls going up. He felt sorry for me. He’d seen my mom, seen our dynamic, and now he was giving me a pity invite.

Heck, he’d probably never kick me out of his apartment because he was too much of a nice guy and felt sorry for me. I couldn’t handle it.

“Liam,” I said warningly. “No.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because. It’s your family.”

“Yeah, like my sister Maggie, who happens to be your best friend.”

“She doesn’t want me at her family’s Thanksgiving!” I said aghast.

“Like hell she doesn’t.” Liam let out a mixture of a scoff and a laugh.

I shook my head. “No, Liam. I’m not intruding.”

“What are you going to do instead?” he asked.

“I was just going to stay here and—”

Watch movies? Eat Chinese takeout? Cry?

“Yeah, to hell with that. You’re coming with me.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Fine, then I’ll stay here with you.”

“Liam, you have to see your family.”

“I’m not going without you,” he said in a way that let me know this was a hill he was prepared to die on.

I pressed my lips together, wanting to fight him on it but wanting even more to just give in. To finally have a normal holiday for once in my life that wasn’t fueled by alcohol and screaming.

“Geez.” Liam ran a hand through his hair. “You’re acting like it’s the most unappealing offer in the world.”

“No,” I was quick to correct him. “Actually, the opposite.”

He lit up. “So, you’ll come?”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’ll come.”

“Great.” He beamed at me as if I’d just gifted him the moon. As if he wasn’t the one doing me a favor.

I exhaled. Holidays were always a time of tension for me. Even before anything happened, I felt it in my body. The anxiety building. Not knowing what would happen or who would be the first to erupt. Not knowing what was going to send my mom over the edge.

But considering how laid back Maggie and Liam both were, they probably had perfectly normal Hallmark movie holidays. And at least for one holiday, I’d get a glimpse into what a normal family looked like. Even if I would never have it for myself.

“And just so you know,” he added, “if I ever start a conversation the wrong way again, I promise it won’t ever be the kind you were thinking.”

The breakup one? I thought to myself, blushing.

Of course it wouldn’t.

Because we’d never be dating, right? That’s probably what he was trying to say.

It didn’t mean anything more than that.

I felt jittery and on edge, all the time again. It was weird, the codependency I had with my mom, even after all these years of being out of the house.

But after a life spent obsessing over what substances another person put inside their body, old habits died hard.

When I was with Liam, it was different. I felt at ease, relaxed. I knew he would take care of me. But the moment I was left on my own, my brain spiraled back into old habits.

Was she at home drinking now? Was she okay? How long until she was back in the hospital?

It made me scattered in a way that started to interfere with my life. Which I guess is why I showed up to work absolutely fumbling my way through the morning.

My bag flung across my left arm was overflowing as a result of me shoving stuff in it rather than taking the time to organize it. My left arm was occupied, cradling my coffee and water bottle while trying to grab my lanyard out of my bag.

All in all, I looked like an utter disaster as I tumbled toward school.

“Do you need a hand?” Marissa asked, coming up from behind.

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

“Here, I got the door.” She laughed easily, badging us inside and letting me go ahead of her.

“Thanks,” I told her genuinely, slightly surprised by the smile on her face.

It wasn’t the usual subtle sneer or look of judgment that I’d grown so used to seeing on her. The one that made me squirm under her gaze and try to shrink into myself.

Today, she simply smiled at me. No condescension. No assessing glares.

We walked in together, and I tried to walk ahead to avoid any awkward interactions, but she fell in step with me.

“I just wanted to say, about the other day—”

I froze.

I’d spent my life typically ignoring the aftermath of arguments. I simply followed suit, however they chose to interact with me afterward.

My mom would usually pretend it didn’t happen, and we’d go back to normal. Dave was pretty similar.

To be honest, it was easier. Less awkward. Less embarrassing. It made it so you didn’t have to dig up the ugly feelings all over again. It was simply swept under the rug.

Marissa, however, didn’t seem like that type of person. I should’ve known, given her history of blunt comments.

“Oh, it’s okay,” I said, trying to escape from whatever this conversation would entail.

“No, it’s not.” She shook her head. “I think I’ve been a little unfair to you. I don’t know why. I mean, I don’t even really know you.”

I paused to look at her.

She let out a small laugh. “Maybe I’m just getting cranky in my old age,” she joked, even though she couldn’t have been more than her early thirties at the most. “But I think, sometimes, it’s hard watching someone who seems like they have it all together when I feel like I’m barely keeping my head above water most days.”

“Trust me, I understand that feeling more than you know,” I huffed.

“I’m sure you do,” she said. “Everyone has shit in their lives they deal with, right? I guess I just never thought about yours when you come in all sunshine and rainbows every day.”

I stared at her, shocked by the words coming out of the mouth of the woman who had barely tolerated me for the past few months.

“What I really wanted to say was, I’m sorry I’ve been a bitch. I really don’t mean to be.”

“Oh.” I exhaled shakily. “It’s okay. Really.”

“You’re not a very good liar, did you know that?” She laughed gently.

I blushed, shrugging my shoulders.

“Honestly, it was hard feeling like everyone here hated me, so it’ll be nice to have at least one friendly face around now.”

She paused in her steps.

“What?” She gasped. “, no! Everyone here loves you, which I guess also set me over the edge a little. Everyone raves about how you’re the most patient, kindest kindergarten teacher they’ve ever seen,” she gushed. “If anything, people think you’re a little shy, but no one hates you. In fact, everyone wishes they had a chance to get to talk to you more.”

Was that true? Had I spent my entire time at this school avoiding people I thought hated me for no reason? I could’ve spent the last few months building friendships, but I was so stuck in my head that I’d gotten in my own way.

“Come eat with us at lunch today,” she suggested with a smile. “I think everyone would like that a lot.”

“Really?” I grinned, feeling like a middle schooler who’d finally been accepted into an inner circle. “That would be—”

I paused, looking down at the belongings I carried.

“No!” I whined. “I forgot my lunch at home.”

She laughed. “That kind of day?”

“You have no idea,” I muttered under my breath.

“At least your outfit is fabulous.” She gave me the once over in a way that no longer intimidated me. “Where do you find all those cool shirts?”

I looked down at what I was wearing. A graphic tee that said “It’s okay to feel all the feels” in huge colorful block letters accompanied by a group of cartoon characters paired with lavender jeans.

“Etsy,” I told her, about to go off on a tangent about all the fun websites with teacher shirts when someone buzzed the front door we were currently passing by.

“Holy shit, is that—” Marissa started, but I was already turning to see for myself, my heart stopping when I saw him.

“Liam?” I gasped, staring at his face outside the glass window.

“Why is Liam Brynn at our school?” She looked at me with wide, excited eyes. “Dibs on being the one to let him in!” She squealed, running over to the front door while I stood frozen as a statue. Disassociating only slightly.

Marissa opened the door with quite obviously feigned nonchalance, gesturing for him to come inside.

Apparently famous hockey players didn’t require a BCI, according to Marissa’s logic.

“I’m here for,” he said, then spotted me in the crowd of teachers that had paused at the sight of Boston’s most recognizable player standing in the lobby.

He looked beautiful in his joggers and backward baseball hat, even in the harsh fluorescent lights of the school.

“.” His eyes landed on me, holding something up in his hand.

My lunchbox.

Liam was holding my pink daisy lunchbox, staring at me while the crowd of my coworkers stared at him. Everyone’s head whipped from him to me and back to him.

“You forgot your lunch,” he said, coming to stand in front of me in an easy stride. “And I know how hangry you get when you don’t eat, so I figured I’d better bring it before you burn the place down.”

“I do not,” I said, pretty sure my face was brighter than a firetruck.

“Yeah, okay.” He snorted. “And by the way, I looked inside. A quarter of a bag of crackers and a few slices of cheese is not a lunch, so I repacked it for you.”

“Not all of us are on an intense meal plan,” I retorted, comforted slightly by our easy banter, even though I was hyper-aware of people whispering around us.

“Maybe I should get you on one to make sure you’re getting sufficient nutrition,” he joked. “In fact, we’ll start tonight. I’ll make dinner.”

“Whatever you say.” I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for bringing this.” I peeked into the bag. “Liam! Who on earth eats three granola bars?” I sorted through the contents.

A yogurt. A pack of trail mix. A sandwich. The cheese and crackers. An orange, an apple, and a banana.

“This is an ungodly amount of food.” I cracked up.

“Hey! You get hungry!” He laughed, hands up in defense. “I’d rather you have too much than not enough.”

“This was really sweet of you to come out of your way like this,” I told him.

“It’s not a big deal.” He brushed it off, even though it meant everything to me.

“It is,” I told him.

I shouldn’t have been surprised by anything Liam did anymore, but still, somehow, I was.

“I’ll see you at home,” he said, reaching out to squeeze my arm once before turning.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll see you tonight.”

The crowd that had congregated parted for him as he left and then proceeded to turn to me with wide, expectant eyes as if they’d just witnessed the birth of Christ.

Slowly, I picked up all my belongings, wondering if I could make it to my classroom unscathed, when Marissa came up beside me.

“So you’re Liam Brynn’s mystery girl.” She shook her head with a slow-spreading smile. “Okay, so I might hate you again.”

But the way she grinned at me told a different story.