“I was wrong,” Liam interrupted, closing another step of the distance between them. “So wrong, Sunny. None of that matters if we’re not happy. If the girls are unhappy.”
The first drops of rain began to patter against the cabin roof, a gentle percussion underscoring the moment. Outside, the world darkened as clouds swallowed the last traces of daylight.
“And are they?” Sunny asked, the words catching in her throat. “Unhappy?”
Liam’s expression crumpled, the pain evident in the tightening around his eyes, the downward pull of his mouth. “Maddie’s stopped talking again, like after Kate died. Hailey cries herself to sleep every night. And I—” his voice broke slightly, the sound raw and unfamiliar coming from him, “I’ve been a ghost of myself since you left.”
Sunny’s fingernails pressed into her palms She wouldn’t cry, not now. “It’s only been five days, Liam. The girls will adjust. They’ll be fine. Children are resilient.”
“No,” Liam shook his head firmly, a new intensity entering his gaze. “Don’t do that. Don’t diminish what you mean to them — to us. You know better than anyone that ‘children are resilient’ is just what adults say to make themselves feel better about the pain they cause.”
The statement, so direct and so true, momentarily robbed Sunny of words. A physical reaction rippled through her body — shoulders tensing, breath stalling, a flush creeping up her neck. How many times had she heard that phrase throughout her childhood as she was shuttled from one foster home to another? How many times had she pretended to be “resilient” when inside she was breaking?
“What do you want from me, Liam?” she finally asked, the question weighted with all the hopes and fears she couldn’t articulate.
“I want you to come home,” he said simply. “I want you to give us — give me — another chance.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled newspaper clipping. “But first, I need you to see this.”
Cautiously, Sunny accepted the paper, unfolding it to reveal a sports page headline: “ANDERSON STANDS FIRM: ‘SOME THINGS WORTH FIGHTING FOR.’” Below it was a photo of Liam at what appeared to be a press conference, his expression resolute as he faced a crowd of reporters.
“What’s this?” she asked, scanning the article with growing confusion, the paper trembling slightly in her hands.
“Two days ago, I called a press conference,” Liam explained. “I told the truth — about us, about the team’s pressure, about everything. I told them that I refuse to choose between my career and my personal happiness. That I won’t let anyone dictate who I love or how I live my life.”
Sunny’s head snapped up at the word “love,” her pulse racing. “You said that? To thepress?”
Liam nodded, a rueful smile touching his lips. “To everyone. The team, the fans, the world. I’m done hiding, Sunny. I’m done letting fear make my decisions for me.”
“But your contract—” she began, remembering the ultimatum that had precipitated their separation. The team’s concern about a star player dating his children’s nanny, the scandal, the morality clause they’d invoked.
“Might be in jeopardy,” he finished for her. “I don’t know yet. And for the first time in my life, I don’t care.”
The conviction in his voice, the steadiness of his gaze — this was a transformed man standing before her. Not the hesitant, fearful Liam who had agreed to let her go, but someone who had faced his demons and emerged stronger.
And yet…
“Words are easy, Liam,” Sunny said, even as something inside her yearned to believe him. She set the newspaper on the counter, smoothing it with trembling fingers. “Actions are what matter.”
“You’re right,” he agreed, surprising her again. “Which is why I’m here. Which is why I’ve spent three days looking for you, following every lead, questioning everyone who might know where you’d gone. I went to your old apartment, to the Early Childhood Center where you volunteered, even to the cemetery where your father is buried.”
The mention of her stepfather’s grave sent a physical jolt through Sunny. Her spine straightened. “You went to Robert’s grave?”
“I did,” Liam confirmed softly. “I sat there for a long time, actually. Talked to him.” A hint of embarrassment colored his features. “Told him how remarkable his daughter is. How much I love her. How I’d spend the rest of my life being worthy of her, if she’d give me the chance.”
Lightning flashed again, closer now, briefly illuminating the cabin in stark white light. The storm was nearly upon them.
“You had no right,” Sunny whispered, but there was no heat in her words. Only wonder, and a fragile thread of hope she was afraid to acknowledge.
“He can’t look out for you anymore,” said Liam. “But I can. I want you to come back to our family.”
The word “family” sent a visible tremor through Sunny. Her lower lip caught between her teeth, worrying at the soft flesh there. A single tear escaped, trailing down her cheek, and then another. The dam had broken.
“You hurt me,” she said, her voice cracking despite her efforts to remain composed. Her fingers twisted together, knuckles white. “You let me go, Liam. You agreed it was for the best.”
“I know,” he acknowledged, his own eyes glistening now. “And I will regret that for the rest of my life. But please—” his voice caught, “please don’t punish yourself, or the girls, for my mistake. They need you, Sunny. I need you.”
Sunny
The rain was falling in earnest now, drumming against the roof and windows, creating a cocoon of sound around them. The storm had arrived, just as the emotional deluge Sunny had been holding back rushed forward.
