by Theresa Jane
“I could leave, Liam. I could walk out your door, and nothing would stop me from doing it,” I mused, leaning back in my chair, my coffee still untouched on the table between us.
When I looked at Liam, I thought he hadn’t heard me. He was so still, just staring down at the sticky café table.
“Liam?” I prompted, and when he looked up, for a moment I thought I saw fear flash through his eyes. Then his eyes filled with his familiar nonchalance and confidence, and I wondered if I had imagined it.
“You won’t leave, Freya," he answered confidently.
“How can you be so certain?” I demanded, leaning closer and feeling the angry heat rise in my cheeks.
“The same reason you never left your father,” he shrugged, and I immediately felt my body go cold. How could he discuss my father like that?
“It’s the same reason you agreed to the bet in the first place. Any ordinary person would have never shown up at my door, but you did.”
“You threatened my brother,” I answered weakly.
“And he could definitely do with learning a lesson, but how could you have been certain I could have carried out on my threat? You never even questioned me.”
“I was protecting him.”
“I know, it was so easy to see even from the moment I first met you. I bet you had that same look in your eye every time your father came home, drunk.”
“Shut up,” I growled, feeling my breathing increase, as if I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs. He had no right to take a moment of vulnerability and use it against me. Why was he acting this way? I had done nothing but suggest that I could leave anytime I wanted. ‘Just…shut up.’
“You can’t save everyone, Freya,” he said gently, resting a hand on my arm, and for a moment I let him keep it there. “It isn’t your job.”
“Is this meant to convince me to stay?” I frowned, pulling my arm away from him. “Why do you even want me to stay?”
“I don’t need to convince you of anything. Your decision is already made,” he retorted, ignoring my second question.
“You think you know so much about me?” I accused.
“I know more about you than you think, Freya. You don’t hide your emotions very well,” he frowned, looking at me intently.
“No, you don’t,” I spat as I pushed back from the table. “I can leave.”
“Where will you go, Freya? People know your face now. Will you stay with your brother?”
“I’ll figure something out; you don’t need to worry about me,” I answered more confidently than I felt. He was right. I had nowhere to go, but I wasn’t going to risk my dramatic exit by letting him know that. He was being a jerk and I needed some space. Being cooped up with him all the time was messing with my head. It wasn’t healthy to spend so much time with one person.
“Freya,” he called out. I continued to storm from the café, content to ignore him until he disappeared. Who was he to say all those things about me? He didn’t know me.
I was desperately thinking over my options as I stormed down the street that I didn’t notice the rapidly approaching footsteps. Not until Liam was already in front of me. He was glaring down at me with a trace of fear hiding in the corner of his eye, but I guessed that was always there. He was always afraid of something.
“Freya, you can’t run from me like that," Liam scolded, gripping my shoulders tightly. People continued to move past us on the street, oblivious to the celebrity in their midst.
“Let me go, Liam," I breathed, not able to force my voice to be any louder.
“Not until we talk about this,” he insisted, his eyes determined, and I knew I wasn’t going to get out of discussing this with him. My eyes darted from his and rested immediately on my escape route.
“Freya, don’t ignore me,” he scolded.
I was watching a group of girls poring over a magazine with a certain rock star on the front, shirtless. They had no idea. “It’s dangerous, Freya. People recognize you now.”
“You know what, Liam,” I answered, barely hiding the smirk from my face. “You’re right.”
“What?” He stumbled back in shock. Again, I found myself trying to hide the growing smile from consuming my face.
“You’re right; there are so many people out there who go crazy for celebrities.”
“Okay,” he sighed, not picking up on the sarcasm in my voice. “So, you’ll come back with me and we can finish discussing this?”
“Liam,” I groaned before I moved closer to him. I reached up and brushed my hand through his hair until his hat came loose.
“I don’t like fighting with you,” he sighed.
“I know,” I whispered, leaning up to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “But I don’t want to talk with you right now.”
“What?” he asked in alarm, stepping back to look at me. I had already pulled away and was watching the girls as they turned their attention to Liam. I could tell they were trying to decide if it was him.
“I can’t believe it,” I squealed, taking a few more steps away from Liam. “It’s Liam Henderson.”
“Freya, what-” At that moment, the girls started squealing and ran over to him. I was quickly pushed aside as I smiled evilly at Liam. He desperately tried to cover his grimace as the girls started fawning over him. He wasn’t doing a very good job.
I gave him one last look before spinning on my heel and almost skipping away, the sounds of excited girls dulling as I got farther and farther down the street.
* * *
I was almost back to the apartment when my skin began to prickle uncomfortably. At first, I tried to play it off as my imagination, but I couldn’t deny the overwhelming feeling that someone was watching me.
My feet sped up, trying to get away from my invisible observer, but I just couldn’t shake the feeling. I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye, but I wasn’t certain. Maybe I was just being paranoid. All Liam’s talk about celebrities and their fans was just messing with my head. I wasn’t a celebrity, he was.
My head snapped back, my eyes catching in the late afternoon sunlight, but when I could see again, whatever had been there was gone. My breath was short as my eyes darted around the street, people passing me without even casting me a glance.
Shaking off my paranoia, I continued down the street, still feeling the eyes on the back of my neck. I sped around the last few blocks until I finally breathed a sigh of relief as I saw the tinted glass windows of Liam’s building.
I had never been so grateful to see it in my life. I almost ran for the doors. Immediately, I felt safer as I burst into the lobby, ignoring the frown the doorman was shooting me. He was the least of my problems. He was the doorman at Liam Henderson's apartment. I was certain I wasn’t the worst thing he had seen come through those doors.
I didn’t realize I was standing in the center of the lobby until I had my breathing mostly under control. Sucking down one last breath, I began to walk on shaky legs toward the elevator.
I was reaching for the button, my heart still roaring in my ears, when suddenly a hand wrapped around mine. I almost jumped out of my skin before I spun around to face whoever it was.
My eyes were wide and my heart was beating so fast it was as if it were beating one long beat. When my eyes finally settled on who had stopped me, I breathed a long sigh of relief.
“I hope you enjoyed that,” Liam glared, leaning over me and pressing the button for the elevator.
“Liam,” I breathed. “It’s just you.”
“Of course it’s me,” he frowned, shooting me a confused look before he continued. “I had to pose for so many photos; I think I’m permanently blind in my right eye.”
We both stepped into the elevator, and Liam continued to complain about the girls as I tried to settle my nerves. I didn’t want to have to explain to him that I might be losing my mind. Although there was the possibility that he already thought that.
“Freya?” he asked, and I could feel his eyes shift to me.
I kept my eyes staring straight at the doors in front of me. This was the longest elevator ride, ever.
“Hey,” he said gently, stepping around so I had no choice but to look in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing,” I stuttered, trying to keep a straight face. I was being ridiculous. There was nothing there. It was just something I had imagined in my head.
“What happened?”
“How did you get here so quickly?”
“I caught a cab,” he answered dismissively. He brushed the hair covering my face. Instinctively, I leaned into his touch. His brow was furrowed with concern, and I knew I needed to try and compose myself. This wasn’t even an issue, and I didn’t want to make it into one. “Now, why are you so jittery?”
“I’m not, I’m fine.” He frowned at me as the elevator doors opened behind him, and I quickly ducked under his arms and headed for the door.
Liam followed me silently into the apartment, and I felt the panic start to clear. I internally scolded myself for being so irrational. There was no one there.
“Are we going to talk about this?” Liam asked, finally, and I started to busy myself in the kitchen. I began opening and closing cupboards without purpose, ignoring the mess I had left before we had left for coffee.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I answered flippantly, looking listlessly into the fridge.
“Why are you lying?” I could tell he was frustrated. He had a shorter fuse than a mom in a theme park.
“I’m not, I made a big deal about nothing,” I shrugged, closing the door and heading down the corridor for my bedroom. I prayed he wouldn’t follow me, but his trailing footsteps suggested otherwise.
“What happened?” he asked, and I stopped to look back at him in annoyance.
“It was nothing, okay?” He gave me an impatient look, and I sighed in frustration. Why wouldn’t he drop it?
“This is ridiculous,” I muttered, angry that he was making me say it out loud. Why couldn’t I be a better liar? “When I was walking back, I thought someone was following me.”
“What?” he demanded, and I stepped back in alarm. That was not the reaction I was banking on.
“There was no one there,” I answered quickly, concerned by the look on his face.
“Are you sure?” he asked skeptically. Even when I was telling the truth, he thought I was lying.
“I was being paranoid, I promise. No one was following me.” He eyed me distrustfully, but he didn’t press the issue any further. He looked like he wanted to, but there must have been something in my expression that made him stop.
I turned from him and walked over to my bathroom, closing the door behind me. I crossed to the vanity and splashed cool water on my face to rid myself of the crawling on my skin. Despite telling Liam I was fine, I still felt shaky. I splashed my face with some more water before heading back into my bedroom.
I expected to find it empty but instead saw Liam waiting for me on my bed.
“Freya,” he began gravely, and I shuffled uncomfortably in the door of my bathroom. “Are you going to leave?”
I felt the air in the room still. I watched as Liam sat motionless on my bed, wondering what was going through his mind as he waited for my answer. I could barely detect the rise and fall of his chest as the seconds of silence continued to tick by.
I wasn’t thinking about my answer because I already knew what it would be. No matter how I tried to fight it, I knew I couldn’t leave.
The truth was, he was right in the café, there was something in me I couldn’t fight. A piece of me that would always compel me to stay when the rest of me was pleading to leave. Sometimes, I wondered whether I was born without a sense of self-preservation.
“No,” I whispered, and I saw Liam release the breath he had been holding. His composure was quickly returning.
He gave me a firm nod before he stood and left. I didn’t have a chance to say anything more before he disappeared from the room. I sagged against the doorframe with mixed emotions running through my veins. I just wish I knew what they all meant.
Chapter 25: What Happens Now?
I was putting the final touches on the bridge in Central Park when I felt the first rays of sun against my back. They were just breaking over the tops of the buildings and beginning to flood the apartment, signaling the start of another New York morning.
I hadn’t been able to sleep all night with all the memories of the past two weeks running through my mind. I just needed to get them out, and I did it the only way I knew how.
After the incident at the café, Liam had started acting strange around me. The very next day, he came back to the apartment with a box and dumped it on my bed as a wake-up call.
“What?” I had groaned, scrubbing at my eyes to try and scoop the sleep out. When I was finally able to focus on his face, I saw an infuriatingly amused smirk. He nodded at the box, and I eyed it warily before looking back at him.
“What is it?”
“Open it,” he encouraged, and it only made me even more skeptical. Despite my reservations, I crawled across the bed and started to pry the box open, stealing glances at a smug Liam as I pulled the tape away.
When I finally opened the mysterious box, I felt my mouth drop open as I looked at what it contained. I could feel my mouth moving, and I knew there were no words coming out, but I just couldn’t stop myself.
I looked up at Liam and saw he now wore a nervous smile on his face. Without even thinking, I launched myself into his arms, never doubting that he wouldn’t catch me.
“Whoa,” he groaned, but reflexively his arms came up around me, holding my body in place as I hugged him tightly.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I gushed into his neck. I had buried my face in his neck, and my legs were wrapped tightly around his waist.
“So, you like them?” He chuckled, and I pulled back from him, nodding eagerly. Then I looked back down to admire the most beautiful collection of paints and brushes that ever existed.
“They’re perfect,” I beamed, looking back at him. I was too giddy to notice the underhanded smile that was spreading across his face.
“You know how you could show me you’re grateful?”
“How?” I frowned, already starting to unwind myself from him and crawling back to where the box of paints was.
“Well, girlfriend of mine,” he murmured. I froze as he leaned forward until his face was inches from mine and his arms were caging me in. I didn’t know he was there until it was already too late. “All I ask for is a simple kiss.”
“Nothing’s ever simple with you, Liam,” I breathed, wishing my heart wouldn’t speed up whenever he was this close to me. He hummed an answer as he leaned closer, and I couldn’t decide if I was fighting against pulling away or fighting to stop myself from leaning closer. Instead, I remained perfectly still.
“Lucinda organized a date for us today,” he breathed before suddenly his weight disappeared from the bed.
“What?” I asked, trying to shake the daze.
“We’re going out today,” he shrugged as I watched him walk away from me.
“What?” I repeated, rubbing at my eyes, wondering if I had imagined everything. Wouldn’t have been the first time.
“We’re going to brunch, so get dressed,” he dismissed, disappearing and leaving me gaping at an empty doorway.
“Well, that’s something I never thought he would say,” I muttered, shaking my head before falling back against my pillows.
So, taking one last rummage through my paints, I had got up and dressed. Liam took me out for brunch that day at a high-end café. It had seemed every second person was a member of the media and all the others were hiding behind their phones so they could capture their brush with fame.
We walked hand in hand back to his apartment, ignoring the press as we chatted casually. It was only t
he start of two weeks of flaunting our apparent romance. I learned quickly that no place was sacred when the media wanted their shot.
Since the night before, I had been adding everything I had experienced over the two weeks to my unfinished mural.
Strolling through Central Park, visiting museums, lunches, and anything else you would see a loved-up couple doing. Everything, except nightclubs and bars.
We kept our activities exclusively to the daylight hours. We stayed inside at night, where Liam would lock himself in his room with his guitar and I would be in my own, putting the paints he gave me to good use.
Despite all the time we had spent together, I still felt as if he was keeping his distance with me. I was frustrated, not only at him but myself. I couldn’t believe how much his distance was affecting me. I tried to convince myself that it didn’t, but deep down I knew it did.
Groaning in frustration, I threw my paintbrush into the dirty water, where it splattered across Liam’s floor. I leaned back on my elbows to look over what I had just painted and still felt that the image was unfinished.
The man was still standing above the city, a silhouette against the rising sun as the last two weeks seemed to play out in a whirlwind behind him across the city. Still, it was missing something. He was missing something.
I let out a harsh sigh before flopping back on the floor and glaring up at the ceiling.
“Are you always this noisy when you paint?” I jumped at his sudden appearance and felt my head spin as I sat up too quickly and turned to face him.
Liam was rumpled from sleep, and I ignored the feeling of my heart melting at the sight. After these two weeks, I was almost certain I needed to get my heart checked. It was always doing the strangest things.
“What are you doing up?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged, casually walking over to me and slumping down beside me on the floor. I awkwardly shifted away from him despite the protest from the useless organ in my chest. I saw a frown deepen across his face before I averted my eyes back to my painting. It was easier to ignore the swelling in my chest if I wasn’t looking at him directly.
