by Ros Baxter
She sprang from Rick’s arms as though Liam had caught her in his bed, not his embrace.
Liam looked furious and wild. His well-cut gray suit was askew, his tie flipped causally over one shoulder. Steffy registered dark shadows under his eyes and tense lines around his mouth. His gaze was thunderous, looking from Steffy to Rick as though they were teenagers and he was the father who had discovered them necking in the back of a car.
“Liam?” Steffy’s brain hurried to catch up. “Why are you here? How did you know where I—”
“Feeling guilty?” Liam’s voice could have sliced through diamond. If Steffy thought he had been upset with her the night before, it was nothing on the freeze he was laying down now. He stood close to the edge of the booth and Steffy wriggled out to stand in front of him. Rick followed, his hands held up in front of him in a calming gesture.
“Liam,” Rick said. “This is not what you’re thinking.”
Liam stepped toward Rick, his face closed and his brown eyes darkening almost to black. “Oh, and you’d know all about what I’m thinking, wouldn’t you, Rick?”
Steffy watched Liam and Rick standing close to each other. Rick, who had been so careful and gentle with Steffy all day, was suddenly poised for action. She had thought this morning that he seemed more powerfully built than she had remembered, and the thought came to her again as she watched him, his fists bunched and his body braced in the stance of a boxer.
Steffy’s head swam. No. This was all wrong. She did not need this. Not today. It was ridiculous. She and Rick had been doing nothing wrong. Okay, she had felt the subtle shift between them as Rick hugged her, but thoughts were not deeds. Rick had been giving her a comforting hug. He knew better than anyone what she had been through today. And she had gripped him like a lifeline. She was not prepared to feel bad about that now, not when Liam had so continuously refused to acknowledge her pain, or even her right to grieve. He had been pretty clear last night that things were over between them. Who was he to come here now and start scowling and growling at them both?
Steffy carefully inserted her body between the two men, feeling the air thicken around her. She faced Liam.
Liam’s brown eyes shifted from narrow and dark to wide and uncertain. That little-boy-lost look that she knew so well and loved so much. When he was like this, there was a vulnerability to him that touched something inside her. “Why? Why did you ask Rick to come to the cemetery with you? I would have come. You only had to ask.”
Steffy’s head swam, and the tight pull of a headache drilled at the back of her neck. She swallowed hard on the lump that rose like a stone in her throat. “I don’t want to have to ask,” she whispered.
And she realized it was true. She had never consciously thought that she wanted Liam to talk to her about her sister, and about what this day did to her every year. But after today, after Rick’s comfort and concern, she knew she had been missing something. It felt good to have someone ask about her, care about her, wonder if she was okay on this awful day.
When she saw Liam’s eyes narrow again, she rushed to fill the silence. “I mean, I didn’t plan it.” She stepped back and turned to Rick, imploring him with her eyes. “We didn’t plan it. I just ran into him, at the florist. It’s something we share. It’s—”
Liam held up a hand. “Well, that’s Rick, isn’t it?’ he scoffed. ‘Mr. Convenience. Always in the right place at the right time. A swell guy.” Liam’s mouth twisted into a wry line.
“Liam!” Steffy was shocked by the bitterness in Liam’s voice. She wondered what else this was about. Last night, they had both been clear that things were over between them. He had been furious with her, and she with him. Why did he think he now had rights to her? And why was he so incensed with Rick?
“Don’t ‘Liam’ me,” he growled, and she could feel his fury growing. “I suppose it was just convenient to stop off at this nice little place on the way back. Have a drink and a bite to eat to soothe your souls after a hard day.”
Rick stepped forward, looking like he had had just about enough of Liam’s accusations.
“She’s tired, Liam,” he said, putting a hand on Steffy’s arm. “Look at her. Can’t you see? All she’s been through in the last few months. And then today.”
A low growl slid from Liam’s mouth. “Don’t talk to me about all she’s been through, Forrester,” he said. “I’ve been through it with her. We went through it, together. And don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, what this is all about. You’ve never been crazy about my personal life. And my choices.” He said the last word slowly and deliberately.
Steffy looked at Liam carefully, shaking her head as she tried to process what he was saying.
“You didn’t much like it when Hope and I were happy either,” Liam said, making sure Rick knew what he meant. “You had to be the disapproving brother. And now Steffy. Once again, it’s as though you’re determined to get in my way.”
Steffy felt Rick’s hand tighten on her arm and the world seemed to slow down. The small, dark bar suddenly seemed very close. The lights swam in her vision.
Oh my God. Hope.
This was all about Hope.
And Liam. Liam not getting what he wanted. Liam being thwarted. It wasn’t about her at all. Not about wanting her. Not about caring for her.
She remembered how Rick hadn’t liked the thought of his sister being with Liam, had worked to come between them.
“You didn’t like me with Hope,” Liam pushed, oblivious to the effect his words were having on Steffy. “It’s like you can’t stand for anyone else to be happy.”
Happy? Steffy felt like laughing. Yet again, this was all about Liam and his happiness, his desires.
Her gaze settled on the elegant silver candelabra in the center of the booth. She wanted to pick it up and hit Liam over the head with it. How could he not see what he was doing? How could he not understand how his words would make her feel? Steffy’s eyes flicked from the table to Rick’s face. She expected it to mirror Liam’s closed fury, but he was looking at her, his eyes locked onto hers, blue and sad and careful. He squeezed her arm again.
“This is not about you, Liam,” Rick said, and Steffy could tell he was working hard to keep his voice even. It sounded strained and unnatural, so different than the warm, laughing tone she had been enjoying for the last couple of hours. “This is about Steffy. And—” Steffy saw Rick swallow quickly. “And Phoebe. It’s their day.” Rick’s face changed. His blue eyes darkened and the red mark on his cheek stood out sharply in the dim light. “For once, it’s not about Liam Spencer and all his women.”
Liam stepped forward and grasped Rick’s shirt with his left hand, drawing back his right arm like a crossbow string, tensed for flight. His scowl deepened, his mouth open in a snarl of fury, and his eyes shot fire at Rick. Then his right hand shot forward, the fingers curled into a fist. It was like every bar brawl in every bad movie Steffy had ever seen.
Rick was not expecting it. He barely had time to try to step back and raise his own arms before the blow landed. Steffy heard the sickening crunch of fist on flesh and bone as Rick went down, crashing against the booth behind them. A woman sitting a few tables away screamed as Rick’s head crashed against the wood.
“Stay away from her, Forrester,” Liam snarled.
But Rick was not down for the count. He lurched up, advancing on Liam. “Why, Liam? I thought that was your job. To stay away from her when she needs you.”
Steffy tried to get her body between them again, but it had gone too far. Liam rocked back onto his heels as Rick pivoted forward, the left side of his face now sporting a bloody cut close to where Caroline had left her mark. He shoved Liam hard in the chest, knocking him off balance, before drawing back his own fist and smashing it into Liam’s scowling face. Before Steffy could blink, Rick had landed another blow, this time with his left fist. Steffy was astonished at the power behind it. She had never known him so fit and muscular, and she could see that Liam was h
urting as he fell back.
“Rick, no!” Steffy launched herself at Liam, lying on the floor, trying to cover him with her body. This was an uneven match. Liam was angry, and filled with righteous indignation, but Rick was a formidable opponent. And he was not a man who liked to be pushed.
Steffy dragged Liam up and stood between them. “Stop it,” she begged again, seeing two more men advance on the little group from the corner of her eye. “This is ridiculous. I’m not some prize for you to be fighting over.”
Rick held up his hands and his face cleared. “Hey,” he said. “I’m not interested in fighting. But I’m not going to let him push me—or you—around.”
As Rick said those words, Steffy knew he was right. There was something so determined and hard in his voice. She felt hot and sick at the violence that had erupted, but she also knew that Rick had been left with very little choice. He had been helping and defending Steffy, and then he had been left with no option but to defend himself. She didn’t really understand it, and she loathed the violence, but a part of her also felt warm and safe, knowing that at least one person had her back today. And that person seemed to be someone entirely different from the Rick she had known before. Someone who was growing up, thinking about his actions and his responsibilities.
Her head swam as she tried to make sense of it all.
Liam’s face was red and a bloody cut slashed the edge of one eye. He opened his mouth to retort as the maître d’ interrupted. The man was dressed in an elegant back coat and he was a picture of restrained discretion.
“Is everything under control here?”
Steffy knew that anyone else would have been thrown out at this point, but she had seen the manager’s eyes light up as they’d entered. Both Steffy and Rick were well known in Los Angeles, and he would have been thrilled at their patronage. The thought made her feel a little dizzy. The Forrester name again, opening doors and gaining advantages no one else would ever know. Even when they were having a fight in a bar.
“We’re fine,” Liam said tightly to the maître d’. “Just a little disagreement. Show’s over.”
“Thank you, sir,” the manager said, appraising the bloodied faces of the two men. “Perhaps it’s time to call it a night?” He raised an eyebrow and retreated.
Steffy stood uncertainly between the two men, trying to think through what she needed to do. Rick put a hand on her arm again, and the heat of his fingers burned through to her skin.
“I’ll go and fix up the bill,” he said and smiled wryly. “And clean up.” He pointed at his bloody face. “Will you be okay here, Steffy?” He motioned in Liam’s direction, not looking at him. “I’ll give you some time, but I’ll come back and get you, take you home.”
Liam growled again. “That won’t be necessary, Forrester,” he snapped. “I can take Steffy home.”
Steffy’s skin prickled. “No, Liam,” she said. How could he think she would do that? Leave Rick here, after all he had done for her today? After Liam had punched him for nothing more than supporting Steffy. The thought made a warm flush creep up her arms and neck. Liam was so used to Steffy wanting him, being there for him, he really thought he could do anything he liked, to anyone he liked, and she would still be his.
Well, things were different now. She was not some possession, least of all Liam’s.
“I came here with Rick and I’ll be leaving with him. Get the check, Rick, and I’ll talk to Liam.”
Rick gave her a last, searching look, as though checking she really would be okay if he left her, and then headed toward the bathroom. Steffy slid into one side of the booth, waving her hand at Liam to slide in the opposite side. Liam hesitated, then sat, reaching across the table for her hands. She handed him an elegant white linen napkin instead.
“Hold this to your eye.”
Liam picked it up but didn’t put it to his eye. The cut was bulging and angry, and the love and concern Steffy had always felt for him rose to the surface.
“I think we should get you some attention,” she said. “That looks nasty and it’s very close to your eye.”
Liam shook his head, finally pressing the napkin to his eye to wipe the blood away. “It’s nothing,” he said. He carefully placed the cloth down, and Steffy was distracted by the dark red stain on the white linen. The sight of the blood made her tummy swim again. She had been on the edge of nausea all day, and now it threatened her again. So much to take in. This was such an important day for her; it was about Phoebe, and it was about her baby as well.
Steffy had come so far today. She felt like the pieces of her life were finally starting to make sense. Even though the split with Liam the night before had been awful, today truly had felt like a new day. A day she could decide to be different, to live differently. And Rick had helped her to see that. It was okay for Steffy to focus on herself, spend some time thinking about her loss, her baby. And Phoebe.
It had been a day where things had started to make sense. That despite all that happened to her, she was alive, she was here. The living had an obligation to the dead—to live fully, and well. It was time for Steffy’s next chapter.
She had a plan. She was going back to Paris to finish this time of grieving and work on planning the next stage. She knew that she would have more freedom to do that in Paris than she would ever have in LA. In LA, she was a Forrester. In Paris, she was another foreigner, enjoying the beauty of the place. No one cared who she was. No one stared.
All these things had become clear to her today. Because of the trip to the cemetery. And because of Rick.
At least, they’d made sense until Liam arrived.
When she’d seen him standing by that booth, her heart had done its familiar flip. It was as though he owned a part of her; that he only had to say the word and she would be his again, whatever had happened between them. What was it about Liam that he had the ability to take all of her carefully constructed realities and turn them on their head?
He reached across the booth for her hands again, and this time she let him take them. His skin was warm and dry, and it was as though his hands were exactly the right size and shape for hers. These hands had held hers and placed a ring on her finger. Tears swam in her eyes as she remembered, and she swallowed hard and blinked, not wanting Liam to see them.
But as usual, he saw everything. She swore he could see right into her heart, it was so open to him.
“Steffy.” Liam’s voice cracked as he said her name and he picked her hands up and kissed first one then the other, very slowly and deliberately, holding her gaze as he did. “I’m sorry, I—” He shook his head, as though he were searching for the words. “Rick was right.”
Steffy made a mental note to remember this moment, because she was almost certain they were words she would never hear again. She suppressed the urge to smile. It wasn’t the right moment.
But Liam did smile. “I know it’s not something I say often. But he was right about one thing: I haven’t been there for you. And I’m sorry. It should have been me here with you today. I should have known. I should have offered.” He paused, looking at his hands. “When I got your message, realized what was going on, put it all together, I felt terrible. I got here as quickly as I could. It wasn’t hard to find this place, and I just wanted to see you, comfort you. Tell you I was sorry. For today, for last night. For Phoebe. And—” He drew in a shuddering breath. “And for the baby.”
Steffy’s heart almost stopped in her chest. A noisy rush filled her ears and she had to work hard to hear what he was saying.
“I should never have said the things I said last night, about the baby. About our baby.”
Steffy nodded mutely. These were not the right words, not the ones she really wanted to hear. He had every right to tell her how he felt. But what she really wanted was for him to know her well enough to understand why she had done the things she had done. Yes, she had been foolish; yes, she had not thought enough about the consequences of her actions. But a man who really knew her would
know that she would never deliberately hurt something, someone, she loved that much. He would know that she had been driven to those actions by the sight of the man she adored in the arms of another woman. And, most of all, he would be able to look at her and see how much she was hurting. How much she just needed to be held and loved. How great the loss was inside her.
It was as though Liam could hardly see her. Everyone else in her life looked at her and saw it all—the weight loss, the darkness under her eyes, the grief. Why couldn’t Liam? Was he simply too close to her? Or was he too wound up in his own feelings, his own grief, his own ego?
After tonight, hearing him with Rick, hearing him talk about her as though she were some kind of trophy, and hearing his words about Hope, she really wondered. She had grown up watching her father love two women and watching the impact that contest had on those women, especially her mother. A teacher at her school in England had once told her that those who do not learn the lessons of history are doomed to repeat them. Sitting here, watching Liam trying to make up with her, she knew it was true.
Was she really content with that kind of life? Always wondering, in every moment, if Liam loved her, when he might grow tired of her, or when he might reconnect with Hope? Wondering if she was good enough, sweet enough—just enough?
But he did come for her. Just like she had always wanted him to. And now he was sitting here and apologizing. He was saying he understood. He had come to find her.
She looked into those hot brown eyes and remembered the rest of it. He had punched Rick, because he did not like his things being taken from him. Like a schoolboy.
Steffy tried to focus in on Liam’s words as he started talking again.
“I don’t know what happened today, between you and Rick,” he said. “But I don’t care. Whatever it is, I forgive you. I forgive you for all of it.”
Steffy studied her fingers, wrapped in Liam’s, and focussed on each breath. He forgave her. Surely this was what she had wanted. It wasn’t just Liam who blamed her for the baby. She blamed herself too. Hated herself, in fact. But she knew now she had to get over that. She had known it standing at the cemetery, talking to Phoebe. And Rick had helped. Now she knew she didn’t need Liam to forgive her—she had to work out how to forgive herself.