His thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a long moment before he finally replied:
Don’t wait up. Team stuff.
Another lie. But easier than facing the quiet concern in Sunny’s eyes, the questions he couldn’t answer, the comfort he couldn’t accept.
It was nearly midnight when Liam finally returned home. The house was dark and silent, with only a single lamp burning in the foyer — Sunny’s way of welcoming him home, even in her absence. The gesture, so simple and thoughtful, sent a pang through his chest.
He moved through the darkened house with quiet familiarity, heading upstairs toward the bedroom he now shared with Sunny. The door was ajar, the room beyond it empty. The covers on her side of the bed were turned down but undisturbed.
He moved to the connecting bathroom, hoping to wash away some of the bone-deep exhaustion that had settled into his body. As he splashed cold water on his face, his gaze fell on Sunny’s medicine cabinet, slightly ajar.
Inside, tucked behind a bottle of her vanilla-scented lotion, was a small plastic stick.
With trembling fingers, Liam lifted it out. The two pink lines were still visible in the small window, faded but unmistakable. He stared at the plastic stick, this small harbinger of joy turned monument to loss, his calloused thumb passing over the smooth surface.
For a fleeting moment, time seemed to fracture. In the space between heartbeats, he saw what might have been — Sunny’s belly swollen with their child, his large hand splayed protectively across the roundness. The girls painting a nursery wall together, arguing over whether the baby would prefer yellow or green. A tiny bundle cradled in his arms, eyes unfocused but searching, with Sunny’s delicate nose and maybe his stubborn chin.
Christmases and birthdays. First steps. First words. Another voice calling him “Daddy.” A family rebuilt from the broken pieces of his heart — larger, different, but whole again.
The vision seared through him like a hot blade, leaving him raw and gasping. A low sound escaped him, something between a groan and a whimper, as reality reasserted itself. Those two pink lines weren’t a promise anymore. They were a ghost, a haunting reminder of futures that would never materialize.
“It wasn’t even real yet,” he whispered to himself, the lie bitter on his tongue. Because it had been real — in his heart, in Sunny’s tears, in the plans they’d begun to sketch in hushed, excited conversations. Real enough to leave this gaping wound where possibility once lived.
His fingers tightened around the test, knuckles whitening. Then, with a sudden, decisive movement that felt like tearing away a piece of himself, he dropped it into the waste bin beside the sink. The small clatter it made seemed impossibly loud in the silent bathroom.
Let it go. Move on. Forget.
But even as he issued these silent commands to himself, Liam knew that this loss — like Kate’s — would carve its place in him, another scar to carry, another ghost to haunt his dreams.
When he looked up, his reflection stared back at him from the mirror — hollow-eyed, stubble darkening his jaw, shadows carving deep lines around his mouth. He barely recognized himself. This haggard stranger with the haunted eyes bore little resemblance to the man he had been just a week ago, when he had held Sunny in his arms and asked her to marry him.
The memory of her face in that moment — radiant with surprise and cautious joy — twisted like a knife in his chest. He had promised her forever, had imagined building a family together. Now that dream lay in ruins, and he was systematically destroying what remained.
A soft sound from downstairs drew his attention. Leaving the bathroom, Liam followed the noise, moving back down the staircase. The sound led him toward the girls’ room.
“No, sweetie, it was just a bad dream. You’re safe.”
Sunny’s gentle voice drifted through the partially open door. Inside, she sat on the edge of Hailey’s bed, stroking the little girl’s hair as she hiccupped through the last of her tears.
“But the monster was so big,” Hailey whimpered, clutching her stuffed rabbit tightly. “It was chasing me and Daddy wasn’t there to help.”
“Your daddy would never let anything hurt you,” Sunny assured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “He loves you more than anything in the whole world.”
“Then why is he always gone?” Hailey’s small voice was plaintive. “Why is he mad all the time?”
Liam froze in the hallway, his daughter’s words striking him like a physical blow.
Sunny was quiet for a moment, clearly choosing her words carefully. “He’s not mad at you, sweetie. Sometimes grown-ups get sad, and it comes out looking like anger. But it doesn’t mean he loves you any less.”
“Is he sad because of what happened at the doctor?” Hailey asked, her perceptiveness startling Liam. “When you were sick?”
Sunny’s sharp intake of breath was audible even from the hallway.
Hailey nodded solemnly. “You were crying. And Daddy looked scared.”
“Yes,” Sunny admitted softly. “We were both very sad about something that happened. But that’s not your worry, okay? Your daddy and I will be fine.”
“Can I have Daddy tuck me in?” Hailey asked, her voice small. “I miss him.”
