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My phone buzzed on the coffee table. Farther than an arm’s length away.
I stretched for it and my muscles screamed in protest. Lying around on the couch from dawn till dusk didn't make for very flexible joints.
Snack wrappers tumbled to the floor and my blanket fell away.
It’d probably be Linea checking to make sure I wasn’t having another meltdown.
That was my MO this past week. Mourning the ruined relationship with my dad while avoiding Liam. I had barely gotten by.
When the weekend arrived, it hit me that today—Sunday—would be the one-week anniversary of everything falling apart.
Linea was there when I broke down, tears filling my eyes. She’d held me and asked if there was anything she could do.
Everything I wanted—everything I needed, she couldn’t give.
So I claimed I’d be alright.
But I was far from it.
I woke up this morning with a gaping hole where my heart used to be. I sat in front of the TV, ate snacks, and napped.
Yet, I couldn’t avoid the memories. Dad’s anger. Leaving Liam. Avoiding him all week.
Now, to reassure Linea.
I finally reached the phone and slid my thumb across the screen, already forming the words that would set her at ease.
But it wasn’t Linea who sent the text.
It was Liam.
My heart skipped a beat. What did he want? My fingers fumbled as I clicked the message open.
Come over to my house.
That was it.
I frowned.
Did he forget my dad didn’t want us together? Was he drunk texting?
I’d never seen Liam drunk. He was always poised. Always in control of himself.
Always intentional.
If he asked to see me, he meant it.
Could I risk it, though?
Dad would hurt Liam if he saw us together. That was the last thing I wanted.
I didn't want to resent my dad and I also didn't want Liam injured.
Despite this, I was tempted.
I missed Liam. I missed his deep, rumbling laugh. I missed his gray eyes that went from soft to stormy in a flash. I missed his touch.
A need greater than reason rose inside me.
