On the bright side, I know what will get my mind off things. I have Liam’s entire apartment all to myself. Time to do a little snooping.
The living room closet consists of neatly arranged shoes and coats like a little OCD nerd. Moving to the living room, I glance over his DVD collection and can tell he likes comedy and action moves. Other than that, there are thick books and textbooks sitting around. Nothing riveting there. I move to the bathroom, wondering if he too has a secret drug addiction with bottles stored in his medicine cabinet. But no, I come up empty.
I don’t know what I’m looking for or what I’m trying to find. Maybe it’s the opposite, like I don’t want to find anything. I don’t want him to be too good to be true. I just want him to be good.
With every room I enter, my heartbeat thumps harder. Everything is ordinary and in place. Nothing is salacious or scandalous. Still, I save the best room for last. If Liam’s going to be hiding anything, he’s sure to keep it in his bedroom.
I open the drawers of his nightstand, but only find condoms, cologne, and deodorant. His nightstand is impeccably clean with nothing but a reading light and a picture of him and his daughter. I wonder if that was always there, because I surely didn’t notice it the first night I was here.
I move to his closet. On the shelf above all his clothes, there are multiple boxes, all with lids. None of them are labeled, but I’m sure something good has got to be in one of them.
I pull one down, grateful it’s not too heavy. Flipping open the lid, I pull out memorabilia of him and his daughter. My heart cracks looking at pictures of them together. There are pictures of him holding her in a pink tutu, wearing ballet slippers, likely at a dance recital. There are photos of them with an old chocolate lab, with a white face and a dopey smile.
Seeing these pictures sends lightning bolts of pain through my chest for several reasons. For one, my heart aches for Liam, for losing his daughter, but also for the little girl who suffered from cancer. Even more so, looking at these pictures floods my brain with memories of my own childhood and how close I was with my dad. He was always there, never too busy for us, especially not for me.
I shake away the thought, not allowing myself to travel down that path, and close the box back up. I store it away and pull down the next box beside it. This box has me sucking in a breath.
There are pictures of him here with Miranda. Several pictures, detailing their life together. There are ones from when she was pregnant and when they got married. His ring is in this box along with a watch, engraved with the word always and the date 5.10.05. Barf.
My heart is cracking now for other reasons entirely, and fuck, I feel so stupid. Why am I here and why did I call him? Why did Liam bring me back here if he’s so clearly in love with his ex-wife still? How could I be so stupid? I mean, the man literally cut me off by telling me he kissed her. How many red flags do I need waving in my face before I recognize them?
Nausea courses through me. I have the sudden urge to bolt, but tears burn my eyes as I realize I don’t have anywhere to go. I can’t go home, but I sure as shit can’t stay here—or whatever Semisonic sang.
Before I can think or even move, the front door opens and slams shut. My default reaction is to freeze and panic, but I don’t give a shit if Liam finds me in here.
“Flynn? I came home for lunch. Are you still here?” His voice is shaky like he’s worried I bolted. The man knows me well. I wait for him to find me, sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded with items of his marriage to her.
He opens the door and spots me. Relief immediately covers his face and a smile pulls at his lips until he registers what I’m doing.
“I was snooping,” I tell him point-blank. Why bother lying?
“I can see that.” He’s hesitant, like he’s worried I’m a stray dog easily spooked. “What are you looking at?”
“Your life. How it used to be and how you clearly still wish it was.” My arms match my legs, crossing over one another in anger.
“What are you talking about?”
“Liam, why the hell am I here? It’s obvious you’re still in love with your ex. Why else would you keep all of this stuff?”
“Come here.”
“No.”
“Flynn, come here. Please.” His voice is gentle. He offers me a hand and I cave to him. I always cave to him. He walks me over to his bed and we sit together. I can’t stand to face him. I feel like I’m a child he’s about to scold, but without all the fun spanking.
“What, Liam? I don’t need you dumping me again or whatever. I’m going to get my stuff and stay with my brother for a while.” The thought couldn’t thrill me less, but I don’t know what other choice I have. At this point it’s either him or Carson. Though I’m sure my little pipsqueak niece would like to have me stay with her, I doubt my big sis would match the sentiment.
“I was with Miranda for a long time. We have a long, complicated history together. But the truth is, if Emily were still alive, I’m not sure she and I would even still be together. We’re too different. We grew apart over the years, stopped having things in common. Still, that was a huge part of my
