The Ending I Want

by Samantha Towle

  But then, later, while I was lying next to Liam in bed, wide awake and unable to sleep, I watched him in slumber. He’s so beautiful when he sleeps, but that is so not the point.

  It was then, watching him, that I came to the realization that it didn’t matter.

  I’m in love with Liam. I can’t change that. I don’t think I would want to even if I had a choice.

  But loving him doesn’t change anything.

  I might love Liam.

  But I love my family more.

  I owe them more.

  My feelings for Liam are mine. He’s not aware of them, and he never will be. Liam isn’t even on the same page as me in that respect.

  He cares about me. I know that.

  And to have him care for me…is wonderful.

  But feelings like that fade fast.

  Love doesn’t.

  And I’m lucky that I get to love this amazing man in this time I have left, and I get to take those feelings with me when I go.

  I got to fall in love before I die.

  Falling in love wasn’t something I thought I would ever get to experience, even if one-sided, but I have, and it’s amazing.

  To look at Liam and feel like my heart will burst from the feelings I have for him…is incredible. To have the privilege to love someone like Liam…it’s a true gift.

  I know it’s a gift I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t allow myself to feel this way for him. I don’t deserve it.

  But it’s not like he loves me back.

  These are my feelings alone, and they’re mine to keep, mine to covet.

  If that makes me selfish, then selfish is what I am because I won’t give up these feelings for anything.

  I’m giving my life. I just have to hope that it’s enough.

  We’re at the Silverstone Circuit, attending the Grand Prix, currently seated in the hospitality area of a team called Rybell. Bernie provides sponsorship for them, has done so for years apparently. And, because Bernie is a sponsor, we get to sit in hospitality and meet with the team’s drivers. The reigning champion of the Grand Prix is one of Rybell’s drivers—Carrick Ryan. I might not follow Formula One, but I know who Carrick Ryan is. Everyone knows who Carrick Ryan is.

  Tall, blond, Irish, and ridiculously good-looking—but not as good-looking as Liam.

  I know, right? I’m saying Liam is better-looking than Carrick Ryan. I must have it bad. Or it’s just the plain truth. Liam is hotter and more handsome.

  I’m going with the truth. Because, in my eyes, Liam is better.

  He’s everything.

  Carrick is Formula One’s golden boy. Once upon a time, he was Formula One’s bad boy, but he’s a changed man nowadays. Married to the love of his life.

  Yep, I know who Carrick Ryan is.

  Bernie, Liam, and I are seated at a table by the window. A few other people are here, too. I have no clue who they are—other sponsors, I’m guessing. I’m staring out the window, watching as people fill up the stands.

  To be honest, it’s a little boring at the moment because the men are talking business, but overall, I don’t mind because I’m here with Liam. Once I get to meet Carrick—God, I hope I meet Carrick—and when the racing begins, I know it will be awesome.

  We got to Silverstone by helicopter, and, yes, Liam flew the helicopter here. Apparently, he flies those as well as airplanes.

  Turns out there is a helipad on his grandpa’s estate. They don’t travel to the Grand Prix like normal people would—you know, by car. Nope, the Hunter men like to go by air.

  Can’t say I loved the experience of being in a helicopter, but I am getting used to flying the more I do it, and flying in a helicopter is one more thing to add and check off my list.

  The best thing about the flight here was watching Liam control the helicopter. His hand wrapped around that control stick reminded me of our plane ride yesterday and when I blew him at twenty thousand feet.

  God, that was hot. And so was the ass sex afterward.

  Hottest thing ever.

  I hear loud chatter as some people enter the room, and—

  Oh my God.

  One of them is Carrick Ryan.

  He’s walking up front, wearing his driver’s uniform, and he has his arm around a stunning dark-haired, olive-skinned tall woman. She must be his wife. The one woman that turned his head and changed him.

  I think pretty much all the women in the world collectively cried into their wine glasses the day that Carrick Ryan got married. Same as when Jake Wethers got married.

  Like how I’ll cry from my seat in heaven the day Liam gets married to someone else.

  What the hell? Where did that thought come from?

  I shake it out of my head when I realize that Carrick and his wife have broken away from the people they entered the room with, and they’re walking over to where we are seated.

  They might be walking toward us, but they’re still looking and talking to one another.

  The way Carrick is staring at his wife’s face with complete adoration makes me feel a shot of envy.

  To be looked at in that way. To have someone adore you so completely. I can’t even imagine.

  I feel Liam’s hand curl around mine. I bring my eyes to him.

  “You ready to meet Carrick Ryan?” He grins.

  “Yeah.” I smile. But I don’t really feel it. For some reason, I feel a little sad right now.

  “Carrick, Andi,” Bernie greets them, already on his feet. He kisses Andi on the cheek and then shakes Carrick’s hand. “How are you and the baby doing?” Bernie asks Andi.

  My eyes follow down and see a tiny baby bump.

  She’s having a baby.

  Another thing I’ll never get to experience. But then, even if I were to have a full life, I wouldn’t be able to have a baby because I’m infertile. The radiation therapy from the first tumor saw to that. But I did have some of my eggs frozen. So, if I did live, then I could have a baby…

  But I’m not going to live, so I need to stop thinking that way.

  God, what the hell is wrong with me?

  Stop the pity party, and cheer the hell up. You’re about to meet Carrick Ryan.

  “Really well. Thanks, Bernie.” Andi doesn’t have an English accent like Liam’s or Bernie’s. Andi’s sounds different, like there’s a hint of something else in there. She smiles at Bernie, pressing her hand to her stomach and lovingly rubbing it.

  Carrick’s hand covers hers. She smiles up into his face.

  She looks radiant. Happy. Baby glow.

  Pang of envy hits me again. Harder this time.

  Stop it.

  “She won’t slow down though, no matter how much I tell her to,” Carrick says to Bernie, his Irish lilt standing out. “She’s still insisting on helping out in the garage.”

  I’ve never heard the Irish accent in real life before. Got to say, it’s awesome.

  “I sit on a stool and watch the guys because he won’t let me do anything else,” Andi tells Bernie, humor clear in her voice.

  “My wife would’ve worked right up to the day she gave birth if I’d let her,” Bernie tells Carrick.

  “What did your wife do?” Andi asks.

  “She was a veterinarian. Loved animals—more than me sometimes, I think.” Bernie chuckles.

  I didn’t know Bernie’s wife was a veterinarian.

  Liam gets up from his seat and tugs me up with him by the hand. We make our way around the table to Bernie, Carrick, and Andi.

  “Carrick, good to see you again.” Liam shakes his hand. “You ready for the race?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” Carrick says.

  Liam’s voice sounds different.

  Is that…a hint of excitement I hear in his voice?

  The only time I’ve ever heard Liam excited is when he’s about to fuck me or come.

  I know Liam loves the Prix, and I know he’s met Carrick before, quite a few times. But I guess if you idolize a sport, you idolize the sportsmen who make it wh
at it is, no matter who you are.

  And I know for a fact that, if this were me meeting Jake again, I’d be just as freaked out as I was the first time I met him.

  “Andi, lovely to see you again.” Liam kisses her on the cheek in greeting.

  “You, too.” She smiles at him.

  I feel another hit of jealousy.

  I don’t know why.

  What the hell is up with me right now?

  I need to sort myself out, stat.

  “Carrick, Andi, this is Taylor,” Liam introduces, putting his arm around my waist.

  “Hi.” I smile. “It’s really nice to meet you both.”

  “American.” Andi smiles.

  She really is pretty. Like supermodel pretty.

  And she has a husband who clearly adores her, and she’s going to have a baby and a long life.

  Stop it.

  “Guilty as charged.” I smile again.

  “I love America.” Andi tells me. “Whereabouts are you from?”

  “Boston.”

  “Oh, I’ve never been to Boston. Would love to go though.”

  “Then, I’ll take you,” Carrick says to her.

  She turns her face to his and smiles at him. He smiles back at her.

  It’s a secret smile, one filled with love and adoration and memories of time shared that only they know about.

  You can feel the love flowing between them. Like a living, breathing entity.

  And it’s immensely bothering me for some reason.

  I have the sudden urge to cry.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I just need to use the restroom,” I say to everyone. But, for some reason, I can’t bring myself to look directly at Liam.

  I slip out of Liam’s hold, but he catches my wrist as I start to move away.

  I force my eyes to his face, and pain pierces my chest.

  Why is it hurting me to look at him?

  “You okay, babe?” he asks softly.

  His eyes are burning into mine. And there’s concern in his. I can see it clearly.

  My discomfort must be obvious.

  I force a smile. “I’m fine. Just need to pee.”

  “You’ve been quiet. Do you have a headache coming on?”

  “No, nothing like that. I’m fine.” I give another smile.

  He stares at me for a long moment and then finally says, “Okay. I’ll be here, waiting for you when you get back.”

  He releases my arm, and I make my exit, heading straight for the restroom.

  I go into a stall and lock the door behind me. I sit down on the toilet.

  I don’t need to pee. It was just an excuse because I needed to get out of there. I was meeting Carrick Ryan, and all I wanted to do was run away.

  Because I felt like I was suffocating in that room.

  I was envious. Jealous even. Of the way Carrick looks at Andi. Of their clear and visible love for one another. The baby growing inside her stomach.

  Not because I want Carrick. Far from it.

  It’s because of Liam. And me.

  No matter all the pep talks I give myself and all the internal convincing I do that loving Liam is okay, that my one-sided feelings are fucking awesome, it isn’t going to change the fact that, deep down inside me, I know it isn’t okay.

  Loving Liam makes me want him. It makes me want him to feel the same for me as I do for him. Loving him makes me want the things that everyone else gets to have.

  Looking at Andi and Carrick together has made me realize that. How much I want that.

  I want Liam to look at me like no one else in the world exists, except for me. I want to wear his ring one day. I want to know what it feels like to have his child growing inside me.

  I want things that aren’t available to me.

  And I can’t pretend that it doesn’t make me sad because it does.

  It makes my heart hurt in a way I find hard to explain.

  If I were living a different life, I might get to have all those things with Liam.

  But I don’t get to have that other life.

  I don’t get to have a life at all.

  Soon, I will go, and Liam will do all those things with someone else. He’ll love some other woman. He’ll marry her. Have a child with her.

  And knowing that…it fucking hurts.

  I press my hand to my stomach, holding in the pain, and I bite my lip to stop myself from crying, but the stupid tears fall anyway.

  I pull some toilet paper off the roll and blot the tears away.

  Closing my eyes, I take calming deep breaths in and out.

  I need to stop this. A pity party in a restroom stall is not how I should be spending my time.

  Standing, I drop the paper in the toilet and flush it. I let myself out of the stall and walk over to the sinks.

  I stare at myself in the restroom mirror.

  Remember why you’re doing this, Taylor.

  Mom, Dad, Parker, and Tess.

  They’re the reason you are choosing to die instead of fighting to live. So you can be with them again.

  They are the right choice. It might feel hard now, even confusing because of the way I feel about Liam. But when I’m with them, I will know it was the right thing.

  To hear their voices again. To wrap my arms around them and never let go. To tell them how sorry I am for what I did. To be allowed to love them.

  That’s what matters. That’s what’s important.

  Not how I feel about Liam.

  I wash my hands and dry them on a paper towel. Then, I make my way back to Liam.

  Carrick and Andi are now seated at our table with us. Bernie is chatting away with them both, and Andi smiles warmly at me as I approach.

  I return the smile. I need to get back to feeling like myself and talk to these nice people.

  Then, my eyes meet with Liam’s. Everything I just said to myself falters and starts to fall away, and I just feel sad again.

  I catch sight of worry in Liam’s eyes, and it makes me feel shitty.

  Fix this, Taylor.

  Liam has done so much for you already. He’s been kind enough to bring you here with him and have you meet Carrick Ryan, for God’s sake. And you still have the chance to chat with him and his lovely wife because they’re sitting at your table.

  Don’t spoil Liam’s day because you’ve got your head up your ass over things you can’t change.

  I slip into my seat beside him. “Hey.” I smile brightly at him.

  He reaches over and takes my hand in his. “Okay?” he asks, his voice quiet.

  “Fine.” I make my bright smile bigger.

  But he still doesn’t look convinced.

  So, I lean over and press a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m fine, Hunter. I promise.” I tilt my head back to stare into his eyes, enforcing my words, hiding my multitude of ever-growing lies behind them.

  He smiles, and it reaches all the way up to his eyes.

  Then, Bernie asks him a question, taking him from me. So, I lean forward, and I start talking to Andi from across the table.

  But Liam doesn’t let go of my hand while we talk separately.

  And he doesn’t let go of it for the rest of the day.

  I’m in the back of the town car with Liam, and Paul is driving us to a tattoo parlor.

  I’m checking another thing off my list. I don’t have many left.

  After the tattoo, only a few remain—have something pierced, get totally wasted until I vomit and pass out, dance in the rain, and experience a true moment of romance, like they do in the movies. But I guess I’ve had a lot of romantic moments with Liam, so any of them could count.

  I’ve had a lot of hot moments with him, too.

  Plane blow job definitely tops my list. And sex at the Funfair. And the ass sex. Okay, so all of the sex I’ve had with Liam tops my list.

  After the Grand Prix—which was amazing once the race started—we went back to Hunter Hall and had dinner with Bernie and Archie.

  Then, later in bed, L
iam did all manner of naughty things to me.

  Most of the next day, we stayed with his grandpa, too, and then Liam drove us back to London.

  We went straight back to his apartment. I swear, I’ve barely stayed in my hotel, not that I’m complaining.

  Liam and I went out to the supermarket and bought groceries, and then he cooked us dinner. Afterward, we lay on the sofa, wrapped up together while watching a movie.

  I fell asleep mid movie. I woke up when Liam picked me up and carried me to bed. I was awake by the time he laid me down on the mattress. So, I pulled him down on me, and that night, I did lots of dirty things to him.

  This morning, I woke up before Liam, which was unusual. So, I hauled ass out of bed, made him breakfast, and brought it to bed for him.

  That earned me two orgasms.

  Then, he told me that he’d booked an appointment for a tattoo today.

  I swear, when he gets time to do these things, I’ll never know. But then I’m pretty sure he probably just emails his PA and has her do it. I learned that his PA is called Pam, and she’s worked for him for eight years. I only found that out because I asked him.

  I feel like I should send the woman a bunch of flowers for the appointments he has had her booking for me.

  So, we’re heading to the tattoo parlor, and I actually have no clue what tattoo I’m going to have done.

  Sure, I put it on my list that I wanted one, but I didn’t know what tattoo I wanted.

  But then I guess it doesn’t really matter what I have. It’s more about the experience of having the tattoo done, not what it is.

  I figure I’ll just pick out the first tattoo I see. I just need to decide where on my body to have it done.

  I’m thinking, my ass. It’s the flabbiest part, so it’ll hurt the least.

  “So, do you know what tattoo you’re going to have?” Liam asks from beside me, almost like he’s reading my mind.

  “I’m not sure.” I lift my shoulder in a half-shrug. “I don’t really care what it is.”

  “You’re getting ink permanently etched onto your body, and you don’t care what it is?”

  “Nope.”

  He’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. I guess, to him, it would seem a little crazy. Because he doesn’t know that it’s not the tattoo itself that matters but the experience of having it done.