by M. A. Foster
I paste a smile on my face. “Of course.”
He narrows his eyes, and I can see he wants to call me a liar. Instead he says, “Fantastic.” Dropping his hands to the table, he shoves his chair back and stands. “Well, this was… interesting, to say the least. And now that we’ve established that everyone is happy, I need to get going.”
“Liam—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“I promised my nephew we’d hit the batting cages before the wedding festivities.”
“Oh? Okay. I’ll walk out with you,” I offer, scooting back from the table and grabbing my purse from the back of the chair. I pull it over my shoulder and follow him to the door.
Liam opens the door and gestures for me to go first. Once we’re outside, he plucks his shades from his collar and slides them back on.
“Well….” He huffs out a single laugh, but there’s no humor in it.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t expect this to be so awkward.” I shake my head. “Honestly, I didn’t ask you here to rub my engagement in your face.”
“Why did you ask me here?”
“For closure.”
“For you or me?”
“Both.”
“Didn’t you get your closure when I signed your divorce papers?” His jaw clenches.
“Liam,” I warn through gritted teeth. “I asked you here so we could clear the air. If you want me to forgive you for cheating on me—”
“I didn’t—” he cuts me off, a little too loudly, drawing unwanted attention. Lowering his voice, he continues, “I didn’t fucking cheat on you.”
Liar.
I cross my arms over my chest. “Clearly you don’t know the definition of cheating.” I tilt my head.
“As a matter of fact, I do. It means to be sexually unfaithful, which I was not. I never touched another woman while we were together.” I open my mouth to argue, but he cuts me off once more. “Milana kissed me.”
“Maybe if you’d been honest in the beginning, she wouldn’t have kissed you, and you’d still have a wife.” I raise my brows and purse my lips. “How is your friend Milana, by the way?” I hold up my hand and shake my head. “Don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
He leans close to my face. “Maybe if you didn’t act like a child and run away every time you feel wronged, you’d still have a husband.”
Shaking my head, I look away. He doesn’t get to turn this around on me. “All I asked was for you to be honest. You promised. I told you if you broke that promise, it was over. You knew what you did. That’s why you couldn’t tell me. You knew I’d leave. And when I did, you were just like ‘Oh well, I fucked up.’” I throw my hands out to my sides. “You didn’t even show up for the divorce hearing. You just let me go.”
Talk about a slap in the face. The day after our divorce was finalized, there were several photos online of Liam leaving a club hand in hand with a dark-haired woman. Her big tits were spilling out of her dress, and her mascara was halfway down her face. It was clear they were both trashed. The ink hadn’t even dried on our divorce papers and he was already whoring it up.
I’d told him I hated him the day I left, but I didn’t mean it. I was hurt, angry, and heartbroken. But seeing him with that woman was when I really felt what it was like to truly hate someone. They say there’s a fine line between love and hate, and Liam walked it like a tightrope in a circus act.
I knew better than to follow the tabloids, but apparently I was a masochist. Every photo, every story, was a slash to my heart. Liam became the bad boy of baseball, and not in a good way. Hundreds of photos surfaced online of him with various women—models, actresses, including Milana Bedhi—at red carpet events, parties, nightclubs, and even strip clubs.
“You’re right,” he admits, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Fuck, Vanessa. This is harder than I thought it would be. You’re the love of my fuckin’ life, and seeing another man’s ring on your finger makes me want to rip off my skin.” Don’t cry, Vanessa. “I wake up every day with a weight on my chest, wishing I could go back and do things differently. I can’t take back what I did—” He inhales a deep breath and blows it out. “—and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for being a selfish asshole. I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry I broke my promise. Most of all, I’m sorry I didn’t fight for you. For us.”
I swallow over the lump at the base of my throat and nod once. “Apology accepted.”
“I hate him, you know?”
“Who?”
“Your fiancé. He doesn’t deserve you.”
I scoff. “You don’t even know him.”
“I know if you love him enough to marry him, you wouldn’t be standing here hashing out something that happened five years ago. Admit it, Freckles. You still love me.” He smirks.
Never.
I narrow my eyes. “I told you I wanted—”
“Closure,” he finishes with a nod. “So you said.” He stares at me for a moment. “Are you really going to marry him?”
“Eventually,” I murmur, mostly to myself as I fish my sunglasses from my bag.
“What was that?”
“I’m gonna go.” I plaster a smile on my face as I slide my sunglasses over my eyes. “Take care, Liam. Give my best to your family, and please tell Jay I said congratulations.” I quickly spin on my heels and walk away, feeling his eyes on my back.
So much for closure.
LIAM
I pull into the stone-paved driveway of the expansive one-story Mediterranean-style home and park behind my brother’s truck.
Max and I are sixteen years apart, but our age difference has never affected our relationship as brothers. If anything, growing up with older siblings was beneficial in a lot of ways. Emerson is twelve years older. She moved to California for college and, for her own personal reasons, refused to come back to Heritage Bay, so I only got to see her during the holidays and summer vacations.
Max, on the other hand, was very involved in my life. Whenever my father was stuck in surgery or Mom’s meeting with a client ran late, Max was there. He took me to baseball practice, never missed a Little League game, and rarely missed a high school or college game. He was my go-to person for advice on all things related to the opposite sex, and he even bought me my first box of condoms. I didn’t date much in high school or college. I wasn’t a saint, and I had my share of fun, but I wasn’t a whore either. Max is the quintessential big brother in every way. Even when he’s being a bossy asshole and driving Emerson and me nuts, I still love and respect him.
“Yo,” I call out, stepping into the foyer and closing the door behind me.
“Kitchen,” Max replies from the back of the house.
Rounding the corner, I find my nephew Cole leaning with his back against the counter near the fridge, sipping orange juice from a glass, his jet-black hair sticking out in ten different directions. Max is sitting at the kitchen table, a pair of reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he sifts through a stack of papers. Willow, his granddaughter, is sitting with her high chair butted up to the table, digging into a plate of scrambled eggs, pancakes, and sliced strawberries. Her shiny black hair is pulled into two pigtails on the sides of her head. She blinks up at me with her big green eyes and a toothy smile with pieces of egg stuck to her cheek.
Damn, she’s cute.
“What’s wrong?” Max asks, brows pinched in concern.
I give a slight shake of my head, silently telling him I don’t want to talk about it. “Hey, pretty girl,” I croon, bending to kiss Willow’s sticky cheek before pulling out an empty chair. “Whatcha eating?”
“Pancays,” she tells me as she stabs her baby fork into a piece of pancake.
“That looks delicious. Can I have some?”
“No,” she answers sweetly.
Max and I both laugh.
“My girl doesn’t share her food.” Cole chuckles. “She takes after her daddy. Right, baby girl?”
“Mmhmm
.” Willow nods while using her pointer finger to shove the remaining piece of the pancake into her mouth.
Cole is Max and Jessica’s middle child and the one everyone in the family claims is most like me. He’s cocky, outspoken, and stubborn. Basically, he’s an asshole. But he’s also the most selfless asshole I’ve ever known.
Cole was barely sixteen when Willow made her tragic debut into this world. The news of her existence rocked our entire family foundation, and up until about a month ago, she was our biggest family secret. Other than our family and a few close friends, including Mia, everyone had been told that Max and Jessica had adopted Willow. But under the guise of a doting big brother, Cole has been the one raising her.
I’ve got mad respect for the kid for stepping up and taking responsibility for his daughter while juggling football and school, and also for Max and Jessica for being awesome parents and loving their kids unconditionally. I hope when the day comes that I’ll be half as good a parent as they are.
Willow drops her fork and holds up her sticky hands. “I done, Co.”
Cole moves over to the sink to rinse his glass before putting it in the dishwasher. Grabbing a paper towel, he runs it under the tap before moving over to Willow and wiping her sticky hands. Then he unbuckles her from the high chair and lifts her up, settling her on his hip. “I’m gonna give her a bath and drop her off with Harper before I head to Zach’s.” He moves to Max’s side.
“Sounds good,” Max says, pressing a kiss to Willow’s face. “See you later, baby girl.”
“Bye, Pops.”
Cole jerks his chin. “See you at the wedding.”
I nod. “Bye, Willow,” I call out as Cole heads for the back door.
“Bye.”
Turning my attention to Max, I ask, “Is he gonna bathe her in the pool?” I gesture toward the back door.
Max grins. “No. He and Harper live in the pool house.”
“Since when?”
“Since graduation.” Max shoots me a look that says “I don’t want to hear your shit,” and I respond with a devilish grin.
Harper is Cole’s girlfriend and Willow’s aunt, whom I’ve barely spoken five sentences to since she showed up out of nowhere. It’s not that I don’t like her. She’s beautiful, sweet and fits right into our family. However, she lied to my family, befriended my niece, and entered into a relationship with Cole all in order to get closer to Willow. Max said she had her reasons, and there were certain circumstances of why she felt like she had to lie. Maybe there were, but her lies hurt people. I still haven’t been able to forgive her for that.
“What are you up to today?” Max asks.
“I promised Aiden some awesome uncle time.” Aiden is fourteen and the youngest of Max’s three boys. With Willow being the baby and the center of attention, I make a point to spend some one-on-one time with Aiden whenever I’m in town.
“You’re not going to the game?”
“I figured it’s best to stay around here. I don’t want to risk getting stuck in traffic or being late. We’ll probably hit the batting cages and come by Mac’s for lunch. Where is he, anyway?”
“He’s at Chloe’s. She’s his date for the wedding, and she wanted to show him her dress.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “He’ll be back in few.”
“He’s still hanging out with her, huh?”
“She’s his best friend.”
“For now.” I smirk, then gesture to the stack of papers in front of him. “What are you doing?”
He grins as he leans back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head. “Planning for an early retirement.”
My brows pinch in confusion. “You’re selling Mac’s?”
He shakes his head. “No, but I’m taking a step back to spend more time with my kids and my granddaughter. I’ve got about four years tops before Cole gets picked up by the NFL and ends up halfway across the country. Aiden will be graduating and going to college. I’d like to be around for him like I was for you.”
I nod slowly. “So what are you doing with it?”
“I’m handing it over to Dylan.” He grins proudly, and I can’t help but grin, too. “He’s been busting his ass for years, and I think he’s ready,” he adds.
Dylan is the oldest. He’s been practically running Mac’s for several years now.
“I think that’s a great idea.”
“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
I let out a long sigh. “I just saw Vanessa.”
His brows shoot up. “Really? Where?”
“That little breakfast bistro place near the square. She texted me this morning and asked me to meet her.”
“How’d it go?”
I huff out a humorless laugh. “She’s engaged, and she still thinks I cheated on her, so… I’d say not great.”
He shakes his head. “I talked to Mom this morning. She told me what happened.”
I roll my eyes because of course she did. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Max nods once. “Okay, but let me just say this. You’re stubborn, hotheaded, and you definitely take after Mom with your sharp tongue.”
I screw my face up in annoyance. “Thanks?”
“I’m not done. You’re also loyal to a fault. I know how much you loved Vanessa, and I don’t believe for one minute what you did was in spite of that. I think you used bad judgment, and it cost you everything. I’m sorry that happened.” His words catch me off guard. I lower my head as my eyes well up with tears. “Of all the times I’ve been there for you, I wish you would’ve opened up to me. After seeing the pain on your face last night, I can’t imagine what the past five years have been like for you. I’m not going to offer my opinions or advice, because I don’t have any. I’m just sorry. I love you, and I’m here if you ever need to talk.”
I never realized until now how much I needed to hear that.
“I overheard Dad talking to Mimi on speakerphone this morning about you and Vanessa.” Aiden snickers as we make our way to the gate. Mimi is what the kids call my mother, and anyone who knows her knows you don’t put her on speakerphone.
I roll my eyes, annoyed. It’s been less than twenty-four hours and the whole fucking family knows my shit, including my fourteen-year-old nephew.
Aiden decided that instead of going to the batting cages, he’d rather go to the nearby ball field and work on his pitching. I’m down with that. The kid is definitely going to the MLB one day.
Everyone in our family—except for my mother and Jay—has played a sport. My father and Max played football in high school and college. My sister cheered competitively. Dylan played baseball in high school and some in college. Cole will without a doubt be drafted to the NFL.
“What did you hear?” I ask Aiden. It’s probably wrong to question the kid, but hey, he brought it up. Might as well see what I can get out of him.
“Mimi said she left you because you cheated on her with a movie star.” He blinks up at me. “Is that true?”
“No. Your grandmother is being a drama queen as usual.”
“I didn’t know you were married.”
I shrug. “No one did. We eloped.”
“Like Jay and Zach?”
“Basically, yeah.”
He nods as if he understands, then smirks. “I think teen dad still wins for the most scandalous.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “I think you’re right.”
“Did you know Dylan was in love with Willow’s mom?”
I did not. “Where did you hear that?”
He tilts his head. “Where do you think?”
“You should probably stop eavesdropping on your dad and Mimi’s conversations.” I chuckle.
“Probably.” He shrugs and looks up at me with a curious expression. “Why did you cheat on your wife?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Do you even know what cheating means?”
“It means you had sex with someone else.”
I raise my brows. “What do you know abou
t sex? You’re fourteen.”
“Fourteen,” he drawls, rolling his eyes. “I know a lot more than you think. You wouldn’t believe the shit kids are doing at my age. They could probably teach you a few things.” He smirks.
My eyes nearly bug out of my head. The fuck? Instead of chastising him for cussing, I stick to what’s important. “Are you having sex?”
His face screws up in annoyance. “Hell no. I don’t want to end up like my brother. I want to enjoy my teenage years.”
The corners of my mouth tip up, but I hold back a smile. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
There’s a brief hesitation. “No.”
“What about Chloe?”
“Chloe’s my best friend. I don’t like her like that.”
Not yet. This is where I should probably tell him that in my experience boys and girls can’t be just friends. One or both will eventually develop feelings.
“I thought Smith was your best friend?”
“He moved to California.”
I frown, confused. “He did? When?”
“Yeah.” He nods. “When school let out. His dad got a new job, so they moved.”
“That sucks. I’m sorry.”
He lifts a shoulder. “It’s cool. I still have Chloe, and Smith will be back.”
“So if you’re not interested in Chloe, is there another girl?” I hedge.
“Logan.”
“Oh.” I scratch my jaw. This conversation just took a sharp left turn into uncharted territory. “Is he in your class?”
Aiden blinks. “Logan is a girl.”
“Oh.” I nod slowly.
“Oh my God.” Aiden laughs. “I wish you could’ve seen the look on your face, Uncle Liam. I’m not gay, but if I were, would it bother you?”
I tilt my head and shoot him an annoyed look. “Do you really think I would give a shit?”
“No,” he says through a laugh.
“You can be whatever you want, Aiden, but be a good person. Always be honest, and always accept people for who they are, not who they chose to love.”
“Mimi says society shouldn’t get to dictate who we love.”
I quirk a brow. “You mean something other than gossip came out of Mimi’s mouth?” Aiden laughs. “What does Chloe think of Logan?”