I blow out a breath—I’m talking to a dog. Granted, he’s probably the most human-like pet I’ve ever known, but he’s also a hairy, four-legged animal who doesn't understand me and can't talk back. Still, he's all I have right now. And I need to talk to someone.
When I came out from calming Ruthie down, seeing Liam standing there was the last thing I expected. My emotions were already jumbled—sadness tangled with hurt, mixed with anger and love. I was anxious about if I should tell Liam about our talk or how… but seeing him only added more to it.
I knew right away that he had been listening to our conversation. I could tell by the way his teeth clenched even as he struggled to smile. But I was almost relieved that he heard it right from Ruthie—I meant that when I said it. I know how it feels to carry your burdens alone so that things stay easy. So that the pot is left unstirred, and so you don't add to the weight on someone else's shoulders. But Ruthie's only twelve. And although that might feel old to her—or even to her dad who still sees her as his baby—it's far too young to swallow something like this.
"I don't know, Sammy." I jay-walk—oops—toward the top of Liam's development and head down his street. "What do you think? Am I delusional for even going there? Is it gonna be awkward now?"
His eyes meet mine, round and doe-like, as he tilts his head.
"Don't look at me like that," I say, doing that awkward half-jog, half-waddle as we walk downhill. "You weren't there—you were upstairs sleeping under blankets and licking cheese dust off the girls' fingers."
A squirrel runs by, and the dog lunges at it. "You know what? You're not being very helpful." He stops to pee on the tree that the rodent ran up, and I roll my eyes.
Maybe I really am crazy—for talking to a dog like he's a confidant and for letting this happen in the first place. I knew as his lips pressed to mine that it was… messy. That kissing my boss wouldn't come without certain complications. But the pull he had on me was too strong to fight. When Liam broke us apart, I didn't need him to explain. I knew how he felt.
Because I felt it too.
There's no way we test these waters without life as we know it imploding completely. There is a laundry list of reasons this can't happen, and I recited them to myself over and over last night like a nighttime prayer. But the lines still feel blurred or smudged—anything but clear.
So, where does that leave us? Every time I think about that kiss—about him—my chest tightens. The way he looked at me, the way his touch ignited every inch of my skin. But that can't matter. Ruthie, his retirement, me getting my life back on track and helping to keep my four grown siblings alive—those are the things we need to focus on right now.
So, why when I see him, does that all fade away?
Sammy barks as I realize we've made it back to the house. I glance down to find his leash looped around his back paw, his front ones already halfway up the steps.
"Sorry, buddy," I say, reaching down to fix it.
He hops up the remaining stairs as soon as he's free, and leaps toward the door. I push it open, letting his leash go, and he sprints right upstairs with it still attached, eager to find the girls—or their leftover crumbs from last night.
I laugh to myself as I kick off my sneakers.
"Hey."
Liam's voice pierces me from behind, and my whole body stills.
"Hi," I say, spinning around with all the courage I can muster.
Validation settles in my chest the second my eyes settle on him. I was right to be nervous—about all of this. About seeing him now. Because the moment I do, it's there again. That craving for him. That need. The desire I have to make last night happen over and over again.
Whether or not it should.
"I didn't know where you went," he says, a thread of worry in his voice I can't quite place.
"Oh, I just took Sammy for a walk. Everyone was still asleep, and I—he—needed to work off some energy."
Liam inhales deeply, then lets it out slow, relief softening his face. "Oh, great. So he walks for everyone but me." He rolls his eyes, shoving his hands into his pockets. His shoulders drop, and his chest lifts like someone sliced the tension keeping him stiff. "Thanks."
I nod, and he offers the first smile I've seen from him so far today. It hits me that he thought I left. Not just with the dog, but for good. And the way everything just shifted when he found out I didn't… tells me everything. No matter how reckless this feels, I'm not the only one falling.
We stand there, just looking at each other—or maybe frozen in place—until squeals from upstairs pull us back to reality. We both glance up toward the noise and laugh.
"Hey," Liam says, stepping closer. I suck in a breath, the air between us suddenly thinner. "Should we—are we good?"
His expression's sincere, his eyes desperate.
I nod. "Yeah, we're good."
"And you're staying?"
