“Naomi.”
“Why would you want to meet her?”
I put my drink down and fold my hands together. “I’ve lost enough time with one child; I don’t want to lose anymore. I can understand if you don’t want me to be a part of her life but I’d at least like to meet her. She has a brother just a bit older than her. They should at least know each other.”
Layla’s eyes go wide, and she starts shaking her head. “Naomi isn’t your daughter, Liam.”
I take her words in, repeating them over and over again in my head. Relief washes over me, yet I’m still confused. “But you said –”
“What I said was that I got pregnant after a one night stand, which yes, you and I had and yes, we had done ecstasy, but it wasn’t you who knocked me up.”
“Are you sure?”
Layla smiles. “Positive. Naomi’s dad is actually in her life. They have a good relationship. You have nothing to worry about. No need to start writing me checks.”
“It wasn’t the checks I was worried about.”
“What was it then?”
I pull out my phone and bring up a picture of Josie and Noah. “It’s them. That’s my wife, Josie, and our son, Noah. I left her, eighteen and pregnant. I found out about him when I went home for my buddy’s funeral.”
“She’s gorgeous. How come she never called you?”
“She did.” I lock my screen and put my phone away. “Sam hid the messages from me. Anyway, we’re about to adopt and once again, I’ve up and left before the baby is due to arrive. I’ve been sitting here thinking about how she’s going to kill me. So don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m really happy your daughter isn’t mine.”
“But Liam you’d make such a great baby daddy.”
Before I can respond, she’s off the stool and behind the bar, making more of her juice. “I’ll take mine with some rum!” I yell out to her, earning a loud chuckle. One crisis averted for the day... and right now, I think that’s about all I can handle.
I’m in Beaumont - Liam’s hometown. I can see why he left. There’s absolutely nothing here. I’d be so bored and am thankful that he’d never invited me back before. I saw her today, the one he mumbles about. I know the baby she carries is his, but Liam doesn’t need to know. He’s a rising star and this would derail everything I’ve worked so hard for. Daddy was right. We’re his family now.
Nothing... and I mean absolutely nothing... could’ve prepared me for this. Each page is getting harder and harder to read. The questions I once had have been answered, and not in a good way, and I find myself questioning everything that is written in black and white before my eyes. I know Liam. I know him better than the person writing this book, and for the life of me I can’t see him like this.
I am not naïve. I know he changed when he went to college. Noah having to grow up without him is evident by that, albeit not by Liam’s choice. But to read that my son was purposely hidden from his life is heartbreaking. These people didn’t do anything for my husband except create a puppet that they wanted to control. I hate… hate to think about where we’d be today if it hadn’t been for Mason.
I loathe typing B-E-A-U-M-O-N-T into my computer, but Liam is insistent. Why he’s going to the funeral for a guy that he hasn’t seen in ten years is baffling. These people mean nothing to him, and yet he’s leaving me again. I wonder if I should tell him that his friend came looking for him all those years ago. That he pounded his fists on the desk in reception demanding that he see him. He even waited in the lobby for two days for Liam to come in, but I made sure to keep him away. NOTHING was going to take my Liam from me, and yet here is the same man, taking him back to that wretched place.
Tears rush from my eyes, wetting the pages of this garbage. I remember when Mason disappeared for a few days, never telling me where he went. I’m not sure if he ever told Katelyn. When he came back though, you could tell he wasn’t the same person. Katelyn thought he had cheated on her, but he didn’t. She knew that in her heart, but couldn’t help and second-guess why he was being so secretive. Now we know.
I throw the book to the ground and let
the tears fall freely, hoping to expel the negative energy from my mind and body. Reading this was a mistake and when they say curiosity killed the cat, they weren’t joking. I feel dead inside. My heart feels as if it weighs a hundred pounds or more and is barely beating. I need Liam to hold me, reassure me that Sam is dead and will never come back to interfere in our lives. And if she isn’t dead, she’ll wish she were after I’m finished with her.
Glancing around, I realize I’m still in the bathroom, having never moved once I turned the first page. My stomach growls, but the thought of food is nauseating. I’m not sure I could eat anything and if I did I’m not sure it’d stay down.
My legs are stiff as I start to stand, using the wall for guidance and leverage. Never, have I been so consumed with something that I’ve let so much time pass. Even after Liam left I had to function. The baby growing inside of me needed me to survive.
Darkness filters through the blinds in my kitchen. Glancing at the illuminated clock on the microwave tells me that I’ve been in the bathroom for about six hours. That’s far too many hours wasted on something that means so little to my life. It’s the journal excerpts that gave me pause. Reading and re-reading them over and over to let the tales of Sam and the other women soak in is what took me so long to process the garbage that has been written in that stupid book. It’s like a car crash on the highway. You know you shouldn’t look because it’s disrespectful to stare, but you turn your head anyway as you drive at a snail’s pace, only to mutter an “Oh God” and say a silent prayer of thanks that it wasn’t you in that accident.
When I saw the mangled truck that Mason drove the night he was killed, the sentiment of “Oh God” had an entirely different meaning. The officers were slow to release the wreckage to the towing company and something deep inside made me drive by the scene the next morning. His truck, one that I had been in so many times, was a shell of what it used to be. It was easy to see how he didn’t survive even as his words echoed through my mind, “Nothing can break this baby.” He was wrong. An eighteen-wheeler with failing breaks coming down a hill did. That semi didn’t just destroy Mason’s truck, but all of our lives as well. However, with that destruction came hope and something new. Because of Mason, I was given another chance with Liam and I’m a fool to let some unauthorized biography based mostly on his psycho manager mess that up for me.
Do the words hurt? Yes, but they can’t matter to me. I won’t let them. I don’t know who this Calista Jones person is, but the story she tells paints the picture of a much different person than the man I love. I’m smart enough to accept that the Liam I fell in love with isn’t the same man I married and I know he would say the same thing about me. We grew up, each of us in our own ways, but I don’t care what people say, your first love is never forgotten no matter how many years pass.
My phone sits on the counter, mocking me. If I had to bet, I’d say Liam is on his way home because we’ve never gone this long without talking. I know him well enough to know he’s pacing, pulling at his hair and pounding his fists against the windows overlooking the town he loves so much. When he booked his suite at the Wilshire, the night that I met him there came rushing back. I was teetering that night, willing to give myself to him so I could remember what it felt like to be under his control. To have him hovering over me, willing my body to be at his command.
He wouldn’t let me. Instead he paced, often moving out of my grasp just as I had him in it. It pained him not to touch me and each time I’d look into his eyes; his resolve was breaking mine down. When I reminded him that I was engaged, it was for my benefit not his. I had to say the words out loud to remind myself that I already gave myself to another man.
When it comes down to it, Liam isn’t any different. He willingly gave himself away to his painkillers, as he called them. I can’t hold that against him.