Page 30

LIAM

I watched Skye for a moment, trying to find the right words. The weight of everything said and unsaid hung between us, thick and oppressive. Finally, I cleared my throat. “Do you have… pictures?”

She looked up, startled. “Pictures?”

“Of Lily,” I said, my voice softer. “From when she was a baby.”

Her brows knit together, and for a second, I thought she would say no. But then she nodded and pulled her phone from her pocket. “Yeah. Give me a second.”

I stayed still as she scrolled through her photos. She hesitated before pausing on a picture, her movements careful, like she was bracing for impact. Wordlessly, she handed me the phone, already queued to what she wanted me to see.

My breath caught at the first picture. Lily, tiny and swaddled in a pale-pink blanket, her little mouth open in a yawn.

My chest tightened as I flipped to the next image.

Each photo was a snapshot of a moment I hadn’t been part of—her first gummy smile, her tiny fingers clutching Skye’s hand, her wobbly first steps.

“She’s perfect,” I said, my voice thick.

Skye’s lips curved into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “She is.”

I scrolled back farther and froze. The image wasn’t of Lily. It was of Skye—her stomach rounded, her hand resting protectively on the swell. She was laughing at something off camera, her hair falling in loose waves around her face.

“You’re beautiful,” I murmured, barely aware I’d spoken aloud.

Her head snapped toward me, her eyes wide as she shifted closer, her body pressed against my side to see what I was looking at. “That’s… I mean, that’s Lily.”

But it wasn’t. Not entirely. I wasn’t just looking at Lily in that moment. I was looking at her. At Skye, carrying Lily, glowing with something I couldn’t put into words.

Another picture stopped me cold. Skye in a hospital bed, holding a tiny, wrinkled Lily against her chest. Her hair was damp, her face pale and tired, but her expression was fierce, almost defiant, as she stared into the camera.

“I wish I could’ve been there for you.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Her breath hitched, and she looked away, her fingers brushing the edge of the phone. “It wasn’t easy. But we managed.”

“I should have been there.” My voice was low, rough.

Her head tilted slightly, like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to believe me. “Maybe,” she said quietly. “But back then…” Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head. “I didn’t give you the chance to be there for me.”

“I’m here now,” I said firmly. “I can’t change the past, but I’m here now. For you. For Lily.”

She didn’t respond immediately. Her gaze lingered on the photo, and I thought I saw something crack in the walls she’d built around herself.

“I want that.” She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper.

S liding into the booth across from Fiona, I barely had time to pick up the menu before she leaned forward, eyes sharp and locked on me like a hawk zoning in on its prey.

“What’s going on, Liam?” she demanded, skipping past any semblance of small talk.

“Good to see you too, Fio,” I muttered, flipping the menu open to avoid her gaze. The scent of coffee and fried bacon filled the small diner, mingling with the low hum of conversation around us.

Fiona tapped her nails on the cracked vinyl of the booth seat, her sharp gaze never leaving mine. “Don’t deflect. You’re acting weird.” She tilted her head, her ponytail swinging, and she pinned me with the look that had intimidated me since I was twelve. “Does this have anything to do with Skye?”

My fingers curled into the edge of the menu, my stomach tightening at the inevitable conversation I’d been avoiding. I wasn’t sure I was ready for this—admitting it out loud made it all the more real.

I exhaled slowly, setting the menu down.“Yeah… it does.”

Fiona tilted her head, curiosity flickering across her face.“Okay… and?”

I hesitated, rubbing the back of my neck before forcing myself to meet her gaze.“She has a daughter, Fio.”

Her lips parted slightly in surprise, but she didn’t jump to conclusions. Instead, she waited, giving me space to continue.

“A little girl.”The words felt heavy as I said them out loud.“She’s… she’s about two, maybe three.”

“Oh my God. Holy shit,” she whispered, leaning back in her seat like the realization had knocked her over. Her expression softened, the initial shock giving way to something else—understanding, maybe even something protective.“Liam…”

I swallowed hard.“She’s mine. She didn’t tell me. I had no fucking idea.”My hands fisted on the table as the memory of Lily’s bright green eyes hit me again.“Fio… she looks just like me.”

Silence stretched between us, the weight of my confession settling like a stone. Fiona reached across the table, squeezing my wrist.She didn’t let go, her grip grounding me in a way I desperately needed.“Jesus, Liam. That’s a lot.”

I let out a shaky breath, nodding.“Yeah. It is.”

I let my head fall back against the booth, staring at the ceiling like it had the answers I couldn’t seem to find.

My hand tightened around the menu. How many times had I played this scenario out in my head?

Telling my sister, explaining it, owning it.

But now that it was real, its weight settled on my chest like lead.

There was no point in lying, not when Fiona’s bullshit detector was as finely tuned as a scout’s stopwatch.

“When did you find out?”

“Not until a couple of days ago.” I pushed a hand through my hair, frustration bubbling up again. “Skye didn’t tell me when she found out she was pregnant. She had her reasons, and honestly, I get it. But it’s not any easier to swallow.”

“Okay, I’ll trust you on that one. Just for the record—I’m not happy you didn’t know.” Fiona’s expression softened, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “And now? What’s going on with you two?”

I laughed, short and humorless, slouching back in the booth.

“I’m trying to figure it out. I want to be there for Lily, for both of them, but it’s complicated.

Skye doesn’t fully trust me—neither of us trusts the other, actually.

But I don’t blame her. Back then, I wasn’t exactly someone you could count on. ”

I couldn’t stop thinking about Dad. About the way he used to sit in that recliner, the TV blaring, a beer clutched in his hand like it was the only thing tethering him to reality.

I didn’t want that for Lily. I wanted to be the dad who showed up, who stayed.

But wanting wasn’t the same as knowing how.

She gave me a long, hard look before reaching for her water and taking a slow sip. “So, what are you doing about it?”

“I’m trying,” I said, my voice quiet, deep-seated fear rearing its deranged head despite the decision, the determination to be there for them.

If I could confide in anyone about my worries, it would be my sister.

She had the same emotional scars. “But, Fiona… I don’t know if I can pull this off.

Considering where we came from—how Dad was, how Mom bailed—I don’t have a great blueprint for being a parent. ”

Fiona winced, her fingers tightening around her glass. “Yeah, we didn’t hit the jackpot with role models, did we? Mom left us like we were trash, and Dad…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “He hasn’t been Dad for years. Just a bottle with legs.”

A bitter laugh escaped me. “Exactly. So, what makes me think I can do this? That I can be enough for Lily? For Skye?”

She leaned forward, her voice soft but firm. “Because you’re not Dad, Liam. You’re not Mom either. You care. You’re trying. You’re someone your friends have been able to count on in any situation. That’s already a hell of a lot more than they ever did for us.”

Her words hit me square in the chest, and I stared at the table. “It doesn’t feel like enough.”

Fiona’s hand covered mine, grounding me. “It’s enough. And even if you’re not sure, I am. You’re brave for even taking this leap. I’m not sure I could do it. But you? You’re already halfway there.”

I shook my head, but her grip tightened. “That’s a lie. You could do it. You’ve been there for me.”

“That’s easy. I’ll always be there for you. But relationships?” A humorless laugh spilled from her lips. “But I’m not the one we need to focus on. It’s you—and, Liam, I mean it. You’ve got me in your corner, okay? Whatever you need, whatever they need—I’ll be there. You’re not alone.”

I swallowed hard, her words breaking through some of the doubt wrapping around me like chains. “Thanks, Fio. That means more than you know.”

“And Skye?” Fiona asked, her gaze piercing.

“What’s your plan there? I’ve gotta tell you, I’m not thrilled she kept her pregnancy— Lily —from you.

With that said, let’s move forward. Do you want to be with her?

Because if you do, you’ve got to show her—and not just with Lily. She needs to know you’re all in.”

Her words acted like a visceral map I didn’t know I needed. “You’re right. I need to show Skye I want her and that I’ll be there for her too.

She smiled and leaned back. “Good. Now, let’s order before I start gnawing on this table.”

I picked up my menu only to lower it when she spoke.

“But seriously—don’t think I’m letting you off the hook. I want updates—regular ones. And I want to spend time with my niece. That’s nonnegotiable.”

A grin tugged at my lips despite everything. “Deal.”

As the waitress came by to take our orders, I felt a small flicker of hope.

Fiona’s belief in me didn’t erase all the doubts, but she was right.

I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t my dad. I could be more for Lily and Skye.

It wouldn’t be easy, but if I’d learned one thing from football, it was that the hard-won victories were the ones that mattered most.