Page 38

SKYE

T he house was silent, the kind of silence that only came after an epic storm.

The soft hum of the heater kicking on and the faint creak of floorboards under Liam’s steps felt magnified in the stillness.

Outside, the wind rattled the windowpane, a sound so sharp it made me cringe before I could stop myself.

I couldn’t shake the weight of the night.

Filing statements at the police station with Fiona’s help had been surreal, every detail dragging us deeper into the reality of what Joe had done.

The scandal was already unraveling—players, coaches, even administrative ties—and my uncle was buried in the fallout.

My aunt had stayed behind at the office with him, working late after getting assurance that Liam would keep watch over us.

But knowing we were safe didn’t quiet the anxiety twisting in my chest. My hands trembled as I double-checked the locks on the front door for the third time then moved to the windows to check each latch.

Every shadow felt like a threat. When I drew the curtains tightly closed, it felt less like shutting out the world and more like bracing against it.

Lily was curled on the couch, her tiny hands gripping her bunny like a lifeline. Liam sat beside her, his large frame fitting awkwardly but protectively in the corner of the cushions. His arm stretched along the backrest, a silent barrier between her and the world.

“Skye.” His voice was soft, a nudge to bring me back to the room.

“I just need to check?—”

“You’ve checked everything twice,” he said gently but firmly. “Come here. Sit with us.”

I hesitated, glancing toward the kitchen window as though it might suddenly fly open. But the warmth in his voice and the steadiness in his gaze pulled me back. I crossed the room and sank into the space he’d saved for me, tucking my legs beneath me.

Liam shifted slightly to make room, his shoulder brushing against mine. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “We’re safe.”

Lily leaned against me, her soft sniffles fading as exhaustion took over. “Mama,” she mumbled, barely audible.

“I’m here, baby,” I whispered, kissing her temple.

Liam reached across, his fingers brushing against mine in a silent offer. I took his hand, his callouses rough but grounding, and let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Lily’s breathing steadied, her little fingers loosening their grip on her bunny.

Liam glanced at me, a silent question in his eyes.

I nodded, and he stood, lifting her with a gentleness that caught me off guard.

He carried her toward my bedroom, his movements careful, as though she might shatter if he wasn’t steady enough.

I followed, the heaviness of the night pressing on me.

She still clutched her bunny in her tiny hands as he carried her.

Liam cradled her with a tenderness that made me ache.

Once she was tucked into the middle of my bed, she reached out instinctively, grabbing for both of us. I slid in on one side, and Liam hesitated momentarily before settling on the other.

“I can sleep on the couch,” he said quietly, his voice laced with reticence.

“Stay,” I replied, surprising even myself. The word came without thought, only instinct. “She needs us both tonight.”

Something about him was so steady, so solid, that it made me feel a little lighter.

We lay in silence for a while, the kind that wasn’t uncomfortable but carried more than words ever could. My head spun, my thoughts chasing themselves in circles, but when Liam shifted closer, the turmoil in my mind stilled for a moment.

He reached out slowly, hesitating for just a second before his hand brushed mine. My breath caught, but I didn’t pull away. His fingers slid over mine, warm and firm, and when I glanced at him, his gaze was even.

Lily’s little hand found my shirt, clutching tightly, while her other reached for Liam. He let go of me and took it without hesitation, his larger fingers curling protectively around hers.

For a long time, we lay in silence. The streetlight outside cast faint stripes across the ceiling, and the rhythmic sound of Lily’s breathing became the room’s anchor.

“She’s stronger than I thought,” Liam whispered after a while, his voice barely more than a breath.

“She is,” I agreed, my gaze fixed on her peaceful face. “But tonight… tonight was too much.”

He didn’t respond immediately, and when I turned my head, I found him watching me. His expression was a mix of exhaustion, guilt, and something softer—something that made my chest ache.

“Skye, I’m sorry,” he said finally.

I frowned. “For what? You saved us.”

“For not being there sooner. For not being there at all before now. If I’d known…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

I reached out, my hand resting lightly on his arm. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

His eyes searched mine, and I felt seen—not as the woman who had to have all the answers or the mom who had to hold it together but as just me.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice thick. “For trusting me. For letting me be here.”

I didn’t have words, so I squeezed his arm gently before pulling my hand back. I did trust him. How could I not? He’d constantly proven how he’d changed, and I believed him—he was there for us, no matter what.

Lily shifted between us, her little hand tightening on Liam’s. The sight made something inside me twist. I wasn’t used to sharing this space—this role—with anyone else. But seeing him with her, how he instinctively protected and comforted her, I realized how much I wanted it for her—for us.

His hand curled protectively around Lily’s. It was such a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes. He wasn’t just saying he would be there—he was proving it.

“I’m not the guy I was back then,” Liam said quietly, possibly reading something from my expression. “I know I have a lot to prove, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes. You don’t have to trust me all at once. Just… give me a chance.”

His words were simple, but they hit something deep inside me. The walls I’d spent years building felt less like a fortress and more like glass—fragile and already laced with cracks.

“I trust you, but I’m scared,” I admitted, the words trembling as they left my lips. There would be so many changes, and the NFL would come knocking soon.

“So am I.” He released Lily’s grip, laying her palm on his chest before taking mine in his again. His thumb brushed over the back of my hand. “But we don’t have to figure it all out tonight. Right now, we’re here. That’s enough.”

I turned to look at him, his profile faintly illuminated by the light filtering through the curtains. He looked exhausted but resolute, his hand never letting go of mine.

“All right,” I whispered.

His lips curved into a faint smile that felt like a promise. “Good.”

I let my eyes drift shut as Lily’s breathing steadied, her small body curled against mine.

The cracks in my world, once jagged and threatening to swallow me whole, didn’t feel like a weakness anymore.

They felt like openings—places where the light of Liam’s love and unwavering commitment could seep through, warming the parts of me I thought would stay frozen forever.

And I let myself believe in something more than survival. I believed in us.