Page 33 of Rejected Heart (The Westwoods #5)

LAYLA

I was no stranger to adversity, but I was in a tough spot.

Again.

And all too often, it seemed I’d faced these ridiculously challenging situations whenever Liam was involved.

I was caught between feeling frustrated and appreciative.

The frustration was all about the feeling of me having no control over what had happened today. That I’d wound up here without having technically agreed to it on my own was a testament to how powerless I’d been.

Liam had shown up at my mother’s house, said a few words to me, and decided to arrange this evening’s plans with me by having a discussion with my mom instead. They’d chosen this. Not me.

Though, to be fair, I might have put up a fight initially, but I would have eventually caved. Even still, it frustrated me that I didn’t have the opportunity to decide what happened.

At the same time, I was grateful. Part of me was glad that Liam had decided to take charge. It could only mean that he still cared. Given how I’d treated him—twice now—he had every reason to disregard me completely.

So, it was nice that he refused to give me the chance to sabotage this, too.

“You seem conflicted.”

At the sound of his voice, where not a hint of the agitation and aggravation from this morning lingered, I took it all in.

I took in him—the softness and warmth in his features—and what he’d done—this sunset picnic he’d planned for us.

After what I’d done to him, Liam still had it in him to be sweet and do something that could only be considered romantic.

Even if he had no intentions of this ending like last night had, the effort he’d put in to make this memorable was something I’d treasure.

Then again, that’s how Liam had always been.

I couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t gone all out to impress me and make me feel special.

“You didn’t let me take any part in deciding what was going to happen today,” I finally shared the reason for my dismay.

“I did what needed to be done.”

“By coming to my mom’s house and discussing your plans with her instead of me?” I countered.

Liam expressed no shame in doing what he’d done. “I wasn’t going to risk having you come up with another reason to avoid me. I figure you already have plenty of those.”

“I wasn’t trying to avoid you. I had to get home to care for my mom.”

“And we both know that you could have woken me up before you did,” he returned. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. We’re here. I’ve planned it, and I hope, if nothing else, that demonstrates to you that I’m done.”

“You’re done?”

Liam had taken a huge bite of one of the sandwiches he’d packed for us. Mine was still firmly grasped in my hands. The bread was so fresh—probably taken from Jules’s bakery—that if I didn’t get out of my head and start eating soon, it’d likely be flattened by the hold I had on it.

After swallowing that bite, Liam explained, “You’ve proven to me that you run if things get too intense.

That includes both the way you walked away from me eight years ago and how you left me last night.

I decided I wasn’t going to roll over and take that any longer.

I want answers, and I think I deserve better than what you’ve given me. ”

My shoulders drooped, my stomach feeling like it had been hollowed out.

As nice as so much of this was, I wouldn’t lie to myself and pretend that it was easy.

With every word Liam spoke, I grew more and more melancholy.

It hurt to see how much damage I’d done to him, and the heaviness of that realization—no matter how many times I’d witnessed it now—was crushing.

It truly would be an effort to lift the sandwich to my mouth.

Despite knowing he deserved some explanations, I was a bit flustered. Maybe he was right. Maybe I did run when things got too intense. That was precisely how I felt now. I would have given anything to crawl under the picnic blanket and hide.

Perhaps that was why I thought it was wise to take things a step further and sabotage myself.

“I don’t think either one of us believes that you don’t deserve better than you’ve gotten from me.

So, I guess my question is, why do you even care to do this?

If you can see how horribly I’ve treated you, I’m certain you would have had no trouble finding someone else who might have given you everything you deserved. Why didn’t you just move on?”

The moment the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them.

I didn’t know if I was prepared for his response.

Because even if he was here talking to me about this now, even if he’d done what he had with me last night, I had to believe that Liam had found ways to move on and give himself some happiness over the years.

Surely, he’d found comfort in other women, and I’d just all but invited him to tell me about it.

Liam looked like he’d been slapped in the face. “Are you serious?”

I jerked my chin down. “Yes. It’s obvious I’ve caused you tremendous heartache. Why not just move on and forget about me?”

“Do you think it’s that easy?” he fired back.

“Do you think it was as simple as sending me a letter, telling me to move on, and it would just happen? Is that how it was for you? Do you think I wanted things to be the way they were for me? Do you think I wanted to love you when you didn’t love me?

Do you think I wanted to need you when you didn’t need me? ”

Damn.

Brutal.

I sat here thinking he was going to tell me how he’d drowned his sorrows in other women, and he destroyed me in a completely different way. My face burned with humiliation, and the pain in my chest and throat was unbearable.

Yeah.

I wanted nothing more than to crawl under the blanket and hide.

My silence gave Liam the opportunity to get even more off his chest, because he continued unloading on me, decimating the few remaining fragments of my heart in the process.

“Trust me, Layla, if I could have moved on, I would have. It was impossible. But believe me when I say that I would have loved nothing more than to pretend that what we had all those years ago meant nothing to me. I would have loved to be like you and walk away. I would have given anything to not wake up every single day for the last eight years wondering what I could have done differently to hold on to you.”

Hanging my head in shame, I rasped, “There was nothing you could have done, Liam. Nothing. ”

The tension hung heavy in the air between us, something I couldn’t put my finger on emanating from the man seated beside me. And it was only after many long silent moments that he finally spoke.

“So, it’s true,” he murmured in a way it felt like he was talking to himself. “You didn’t love me. Or, at the very least, you fell out of love with me. And that’s why you walked away.”

I closed my eyes as I attempted to swallow past the lump in my throat. I could have cried for months over all that we’d lost because of my stupid, stupid decision.

Shaking my head, I blinked them open and met his heartbreaking stare. “I didn’t turn down your proposal and walk away that day because I didn’t love you, Liam. It was the opposite. I loved you so much. I still do.”

Liam looked away, set his sandwich down, and let out a deep sigh. “If you expect me to believe that’s true, I think you owe it to me to offer an explanation. Why did you reject my proposal? Why did you leave me?”

All the thoughts I’d had that day when he got down on one knee and presented me with a ring drifted through my mind.

All the things I’d told myself about why I couldn’t accept, why I had to save him, save us, from a bitter ending, were boiling to the surface.

And as they rushed forward, I wondered if they were enough.

I questioned whether they’d been justifiable reasons.

Looking back now, I could admit I was young and stupid and didn’t have all the answers. But I knew what I felt, and that feeling wasn’t something I could shake. It was too strong, and I believed I would have been a fool to ignore it.

Now, I wished I had.

Because even if my worst fears had come to fruition, at least it would have been both of us being responsible for our demise. We could have shared the blame.

As it stood, I was solely responsible. And Liam needed to understand why.

“I was afraid,” I confessed as I gave my sandwich a reprieve and set it down on the parchment paper Liam had wrapped it in.

“Of me?”

“Not like that. Never like that,” I insisted. “I was terrified I’d wind up like my mom.”

The distress on his face had turned to confusion. “In what way? You love your mom.”

I nodded. “Yes. Of course, I do. But my mom… Liam, my mom is a mess. She was a mess. It’s taken her a very long time to get to where she is, and honestly, she still has her moments.”

He narrowed his eyes on me. “Am I missing something?”

“It’s my dad.”

“You were just talking about your mom.”

“Yes, but my mom is a mess because my dad left,” I clarified. “They fell in love and had a whirlwind romance. They were inseparable. Completely, totally in love. She told me that all the time. And it was like that until about five years after I came along. Then he left. And she fell apart.”

I could see Liam’s mind working behind his eyes, but whatever thoughts were running through him, he didn’t share. Instead, he must have suspected that I wasn’t finished, because he waited patiently for me to continue.

“He left her. And he was all she had for the longest time. She had no job, no income, no family or friends, and a five-year-old to care for. We struggled, Liam. For a very long time, my mom and I struggled. And she does okay now; she’s got the store and her best friend, but she’s not doing well enough to have all this time off from working at her store.

That’s why I was working there until she came home from the hospital.

And as soon as I can leave her alone for longer stretches of time, I’ll go back to working there. ”