Olivia I stare at the red taillights of Liam’s Spectre. He was so happy just yesterday... What
happened to him in the last twenty-four hours? I stand in the carport for a while, trying to
think about what could’ve upset him to this degree. Did I say something wrong? Do
something to trigger him? Did somebody say something about the baby? But why would he
lash out at me over it? He loves this baby. Fed me food, saying it’s for the baby. Insulting
our baby would only mean that person was dead to him. The breeze chills my cheeks, and I
realize I’ve been crying. I wipe the tears and return to the house. The vibrant energy that
used to feel like a cocoon is gone. It’s so big and empty without him in it. It’s okay. He just
needs some time to calm down. Then he’ll come home and we’ll have a real talk about what
made him so upset. Things will go back to the way they were. The half-open box of saltine
crackers sits on the counter, faintly accusatory. I eat a few more, because it seems like the
least I can do to acknowledge Liam’s effort. They settle well in my belly. See? Another sign
that he isn’t really gone. He’s just upset. Every couple has fights along the way. But he
doesn’t return. I stay up until well past bedtime, then finally lie down in the dark, staring at
the ceiling. –Me: Where are you? Are you okay? I’m waiting for you at home. Whenever you
want to talk, I’m here. I send the text and wait for a response. He’s always so quick to r eply.
Or maybe...
Maybe he’s already at the door and he’s going to walk in like he did earlier. I hold my
breath and listen. Please...! But there’s nothing. I sigh, deflating like a popped balloon. I
might as well have sent the text into the void. I toss and turn all night. Can’t find a
comfortable position. The bed’s either too cold or too warm or too... something. If Liam were
here, he’d know what to do. And it’d probably in volve holding me in his arms and crooning
to me in that low raspy voice I adore. I send him another text, but there’s still no response.
I’d like to tell myself that the phone battery died, but I know better. Fine, if he doesn’t want
to talk, I’ll figure this out myself. He’s been upset since the day he brought me the
crystallized ginger and tea. So... what are the possibilities? Not an encounter with Auric
and Elita. They wouldn’t strike him in ways that would make him leave me. Brielle. My
heart turns to ice. My dear, dear half-sister has been too quiet, which isn’t like her. She
should’ve made a move or two by now. But... would Liam fall for her? That seems ludicrous.
He saw through her tricks before. She isn’t sophisticated enough to fool him, no matter
what she does. And Deena... No. She wouldn’t act directly against him. She’s a sneaky
snake. She’d use Brielle to do her dirty work. So what now? –Me: Liam, please. I really want
to know what happened so I can fix it. Half an hour later, there’s still nothing. I have no idea
where he is, but he isn’t coming— He won’t come back as long as I’m here. The thought is
incredibly sorrowful, on par with the pain I suffered after Mom’s death. He used to come
home with a big grin, would feel bad when he couldn’t arrive early enough for us to share
dinner and cuddle. And a strange sense of loneliness gripped me whenever I couldn’t spend
time with him. I shake my head. When did such a routine become so natural? But if
somebody asked me if I wanted to cut it out, I’d vehemently protest. I run my finger over
the Rubedo. He didn’t take back the rings. So... this isn’t over. But first, I want him to have
his own space back. He shouldn’t have to lose his home because of me.
I pack my things into the same suitcase I used the day I moved in. Everything fits just like it
did before, like the last several weeks never happened. This is what I wanted—to remain
untouched while I executed my revenge. But now it feels... empty. Like I never truly
deserved a place in Liam’s life. I haul the luggage downstairs, then stop at the sight of the
white baby grand. Not everything fits into a suitcase. Sweat slickens my palms, and anxiety
flutters in my belly, like I’m forgetting something important. I close my eyes. My mind
conjures a smiling Liam coming down the stairs, his hair messy and eyes soft with sle ep,
then grabbing and kissing me like he’ll worship me forever. I’m leaving Liam behind. My
knuckles turn white around the suitcase handle. I don’t know why this hurts so much when
this was the plan—and I swore I’d stick to it, no matter the cost. My feet seem to weigh a
ton as I drag myself out the door. I ke ep praying that his blue Spectre will magically appear
in front of me, and he’ll st ep out with a bouquet of white gardenias, like he did when he
comforted me in the alley. But miracles don’t happen twice. Over an hour of fighting the
traffic later, I spot my Century City condo building gleaming in the distance under the late
afternoon sun. My heart used to swell with pride and satisfaction. It was my sanctuary from
the madness of Hugh, Deena and Brielle. Here I could avoid looking at the damage they’d
done to the beautiful home I grew up in. I decorated it so everything—from Mom’s favorite
neutral palette to the portrait of us with Pochi—would remind me of the goal that’s been
driving me for over a decade. So I should feel at ease as I pull up. But instead, this feels like
an exile... because the home Liam and I built isn’t available to me anymore. I park my car,
then send a quick text to Liam, my fingers shaky. –Me: I’m at Century City now. You should
go back home. I won’t bother you there until you’re okay, so don’t worry about me I pause,
trying to find the right word, then finally add ambushing you or anything. I send it and put a
hand to my forehead. That wasn’t easy. My
instinct is to confront him and ask why he’s torturing us like this—and most importantly
hurting himself. I didn’t imagine the anguish glazing his eyes. But how can I help him if he
won’t talk to me? The condo is impeccable, not a speck of dust in sight. The houseke eping
service I hired comes by every week to ke ep it tidy. I stop in the living room and breathe
de eply and wait for the usual peace this place provides to settle my anxiety. Instead, the
silence in the condo grows deafening. No more soft lull of waves to soothe my nerves. No
hint of salt in the air that seemed to cleanse my soul. Or Liam’s arms wrapping around me
with his smiling mouth kissing mine. I might as well be inside a tomb. Suddenly, exhaustion
overwhelms me. The weight of everything that’s gone off the rails presses down and I can’t
remain standing straight and tall. But why? I’m used to being alone and shouldering
everything on my own. Right now, though, I feel like I’m fighting the world with nothing but
my bare hands. I slowly collapse to my knees, then turn my head and look up at the portrait
of us—me, Mom and Pochi. Nothing’s changed in the picture. We’re still happy and
together. If only I could go back in time... It was the last moment I could love openly. After
that, the people I showed even the slightest affection to either died or disappeared from my
life. I think of my exes—all those men who said they liked me, only to backstab me or
abandon me and run to Brielle. And my friends... I lost touch with all of them after Mom
died, and then I never had a chance to form any lasting friendships afterward. Deena made
sure of that by transferring me around different schools every two years or so. And Brielle
made sure to alienate anyone who hung on after I left. If I could go back in time, I might’ve
been able to change my fate. I might’ve been able to save Mom, save Pochi. If I could do
that, I’d give up everything— Not everything. Not Liam. Not the baby. A wan smile tugs at
my mouth, and I shake my head. No. I can’t give them up. For some inexplicable reason,
they’ve taken up too much space in my heart. Ripping them out would leave me broken and
hollow. Could I have worded my answers to Liam better? Could I have at least told him it
scares me that he’s become more important than I thought? But
how would I word it so that it doesn’t betray how much he’s started to matter to me? I don’t
want to disappoint him or make him think it means we could have the kind of marriage Rhys
and Max have. I saw how they were at the brunch. The love and intimacy between them is
subtle, but you couldn’t miss it if you know what to look for. From the way Rhys rubbed her
back to the way he brought her what she wanted just because she glanced at the same item
on the spread twice. She reached for his hand under the table with a secret smile, thinking
nobody noticed. Mom smiles at me from the portrait. Take courage, she seems to say. Mom,
I lost it when you and Pochi were taken from me. I’m too scared to try. What if I misjudge
things? What if I get too cocky? What if I lose Liam too? And the baby? “Always look ahead,
honey. Whatever happened is already over. Nothing to be done about it,” Mom used to say
when I pouted over hitting the wrong key while playing the piano. Look ahead. I stare at
her. Her eyes are looking straight ahead, I realize. I turn my head, following her line of
sight. My breath catches. Far off, on the horizon, my mother has been looking at the bluff
where the mansion with a white Steinway baby grand stands.