Page 59 of The Focal Point

Over the past three weeks, I went from upset to despondent to something closer to the bottom. Which, in the end, surprised me. Yes, I had realized I loved Bailey and knew how terrible I felt without her. But the reality of losing her, of never having her in my life again, sent me to depths I hadn’t before experienced in a romantic relationship.

That, if nothing else, told me how important Bailey was to me, how integral she had become in my life over the past months.

When Tom had come to me saying he had seen Bailey in the park and told me she hadn’t seemed quite as angry as she had before, I felt a small glimmer of hope. It had been enough to spur me into action and make Tom’s idea a reality.

I just hoped it was enough to show Bailey that I wasn’t her asshole ex and worth her time and forgiveness.

It still took all my mental strength to raise my hand, knock on Bailey’s door, and even more to stay in that spot once I had. Especially when the time waiting stretched, the silence in the hallway taken over by the rushing of blood in my ears.

Was Bailey even home?

But I finally heard “Coming,” accompanied by footsteps. My pulse shot through the roof, and my mouth was suddenly so dry I was afraid I couldn’t get out what I had come to say.

Bailey opened the door, a breath on her lips to greet whoever was on the other side that died out quickly to be replaced by a glare. But it didn’t reduce my reaction to her. Her hair down and spilling over her shoulder, dressed in only leggings and a baggy black sweater, she took my breath away.

“Liam, I don’t want to talk to you,” she said, already starting to close the door.

“Wait, Bailey—!” Panic seized me, my heart trying to pound its way out of my chest, and I stuck my hand on the doorjamb to keep her from closing it entirely.

The stare she turned on me was flat.

“Please, five minutes. I know what I did was terrible, and I will do everything in my power to make it up to you, and I am so, so sorry. But even if you don’t, please just let me say what I came to say.”

Bailey’s gaze moved around the empty hallway, even the carpet, looking anywhere but at me, and she rolled her lips. But finally, she sighed. “What do you want to talk to me about?”

I pulled the key from my pocket and held it up. “This.”

With her dark eyes widening, I could see the shock and anger building in their depths.

“Liam, are you kidding me with this?” she demanded. “You really think this will—”

“Bailey, it’s not what you think. I swear. Please, just hear me out. Just five minutes.” I held the key out to her, palm up, beseeching, hoping she didn’t turn me away.

“You have five minutes,” she growled, still standing at the door. It was obvious she wasn’t going to invite me in. Well, that was okay. I didn’t need to sit down to give her my speech.

“Look, Bailey, what I did was terrible. You didn’t deserve it, and it was probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, no matter the reason.”

Her snort and eye roll told me she agreed entirely. But she didn’t close the door in my face, either.

“If you give me a chance, I will do everything I can to make it up to you, to show you that it was one stupid mistake, even if it was a huge mistake, won’t happen again. I want to earn your trust back. But even if you don’t, there’s something I want you to work on for me. I mean, not for me,” I amended quickly before the storm brewing in Bailey’s expression could explode. “For families in need.”

That hadn’t been what Bailey had been expecting, and the look of anger became one of confusion, her eyebrows drawing in. “What?”

“When my mom was sick, she and my dad spent so much time at the hospital they were almost never home. We were lucky we lived in the city because otherwise, my siblings and I would never have seen them. And we were old enough to do the grocery shopping and the cooking. But there are a lot of families who aren’t that lucky, who live hours away. They have to either leave their loved one alone or scrounge for money for a cheap hotel and eat takeout day after day. I made a friend who set up camp in the waiting room while his father was getting treatment. It didn’t take much convincing for my dad to agree to have him say with us while they were in town, but—”

I was drifting from my purpose and losing Bailey. Her anger had faded with the story, but the set of her mouth said she still wasn’t budging.

“Bailey, those houses you designed? I know what I’m going to do with them. I will make them into residences for families whose loved ones are receiving cancer treatments at the hospital. Not just the two you’ve already done, but more, lots more, by the hospital. You won’t even have to see me if you don’t want to, but you’re so extremely talented, I know you’re the only one I want on this job.”

Holding up the key again, I was surprised when Bailey’s eyes shifted from it to me.

“This is from the first official one, even closer to the hospital than the other one you designed—only a few blocks. And whether you and I go anywhere, I want you to be in on this project with us. I want you to be the one who makes these places feel like home for people who are going through the worst times in their lives.”

Bailey’s expression had changed the longer I had gone on, my words crowding to escape, ramming into each other like bumper cars. I was half amazed she had understood what I was saying. But it looked like she had because her glare had become convulsive swallows, and her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.

Finally, Bailey shook her head, her gaze on the ground. “You’re an asshole. You know that?”

I had no idea whether this was a bad thing, even if, in most contexts, it certainly would be. But something about how she had said it, the look I had seen in her eyes before she dropped her head, told me it wasn’t.