Loving Liam

by Loretta Lost

  She shrugs and begins moving to the door. “Thank you, Helen. I just… can’t.”

  With that, she is gone.

  “I am going to go to the airport with her,” I decide. “I need to go after Liam. Carmen, run upstairs and get me a change of clothes, and my purse.”

  “Sure thing,” my maid of honor says, moving off the sofa to do my bidding.

  “I’m sorry that you all came out here for a wedding and no wedding is happening after all,” I tell my guests.

  “Hey, this was way more entertaining than a mushy-gushy wedding,” David says with a grin. “Remember? I’m recently divorced. Not the biggest fan of love right now.”

  I smile weakly, and I am grateful to see Carmen coming down the stairs with a pair of jeans.

  “Who says there isn’t a wedding happening here?” my father says. “We’ve got the officiant, and the decorations, and the food.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a velvet box, and pops it open. “I’ve got this giant rock with Leslie’s name on it. Anyone up for a recycled wedding? It’s eco-friendly and good for the environment.”

  “Oh my god, Richard!” Leslie says with wide eyes. “This is how you propose to me? Do you really think I need the goddamned rock of Gibraltar on my hand? I’m not an eighteen-year-old schoolgirl.”

  “You could have fooled me,” he says with a naughty wink. “So is that a yes?”

  Carmen and I share shocked looks, and Owen begins chuckling softly.

  Leslie sighs and nods. “Yes, you stupid old fool.”

  Everyone in the room begins clapping and laughing as Leslie and Dad hug and kiss. It’s surprisingly endearing, and the timing is interesting. It’s like having a birth and a death in the family on the same day. Bittersweet.

  “Helen,” my father says suddenly, turning to me. “Put on your jeans and head to the airport. You should go after Liam. He’s going to need you.”

  I nod, standing up and moving forward to give my father a hug. “Congratulations,” I say softly.

  “Hurry up,” Leslie says, touching my shoulder. “Try to catch up with Sophie. She seems like she could use a friend right now.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Dr. Liam Larson

  As I pull up to the filthy apartment complex in Brownsville, the hatred and anger in my chest hasn’t dissipated in the least. In fact, it managed to grow during the hours it took to drive over here, and I drove so fast that I managed to shave hours of time off the trip. I slowed down a little in populated areas, but on wide, open stretches of the road? I pushed my car to the limit, letting it show me what it’s really capable of doing. It only fueled my anger.

  Stopping my car on the road, I don’t care that there are no available parking spots as I turn off the vehicle and exit onto the road. A car in the opposite lane has to brake to avoid me, and the driver honks. I don’t care. I keep marching forward to my parents’ apartment.

  When I reach the door marked #3, I pound loudly with my fist. “Open up!” I shout. “Open the fuck up!” I wait for a full second before I step back and kick the door so hard that the wood splinters around the doorknob, and it swings open.

  When I move inside the apartment, I am immediately assailed by a smell. “Ma…” I stop in the middle of calling out for my mother. How could I even call her that, after what she’s done? “Janet?” I ask, moving forward. “Where the fuck are you!” Neither of my parents are in the living room. Moving to the bathroom, I rip open the door and I am startled to see my father lying on the ground in a pool of blood, urine, and his own feces. The smell is disgusting, and I lift my sleeve to cover my face.

  “Pops?” I say, wondering if he is dead. I don’t know how I feel about this. Do I actually care if he lives, or am I disappointed that I didn’t get to kill him myself?

  He groans slightly, alerting me to the fact that he is alive. He must have slipped and fallen while getting out of the tub, and he must have been lying here for days. I am not sure if it’s the son in me, or the doctor, but I know he needs medical attention. But first, where is my mother?

  Moving through the house, I finally find her huddled in a corner of the bedroom. She is rocking back and forth with wide eyes.

  “Is he dead?” she asks, over and over again. “Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?”

  I stare at her in complete confusion, suddenly seeing my innocent old mother in a very different light. Did she do this to him? Did she push him against the sink or the tub?

  Either way, all the anger leaves me. She’s not right in the head. How could she be expected to be, after all the times my father has beat her into a concussion?

  Turning around so that I don’t have to look at her, I feel all the hatred leave my heart. These people are old and sick. There is nothing that I can say or do to achieve retribution for what they’ve done, to me… and my sister. I swallow. My sister. I have avoided thinking about her for most of the drive here, but now I realize that I have fucked up.

  Maybe I wasn’t responsible for abandoning Sophie when she was born.

  But I am responsible for abandoning her today.

  There is no point to seeking revenge now. We are no longer children. Our lives are completely in our own hands, and the only thing that can be done is to be good to whatever family we still have. And on the first day that I’ve been part of my little sister’s life, I selfishly stormed out on her, putting my own anger above all else.

  How am I any different from my mother? I’m worse. She doesn’t remember my mother abandoning her, but I’m sure she has a clear image of my back walking away. I’m sure she has a clear picture of what a scared and weak person I really am, and how I am incapable of loving her.

  Or Helen. Who has done so much for me. I walked out on our wedding. She must hate me.

  Or Owen. He’s been the greatest friend.

  Or anyone.

  I realize that I have been clenching my fist so tightly that my palm is bleeding. Reaching for my phone, I dial 911 and shut my eyes tightly while waiting for someone to respond.

  “911, what is your emergency?”

  “I just visited my father’s home, and it seems like he’s had a bad fall.”

  “We’ll send someone right away. What is your address?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Helen Winters

  I lean against the elevator wall as I take it up to the floor of Liam’s apartment. I am so tired. I had to take a connecting flight to get here, and both planes were delayed at their respective airports. I thought for sure I could get to the home of Liam’s parents before he did, but by the time I got there, the apartment was empty. So I had no choice but to come back home, and hope for the best. Liam hasn’t been responding to any of my calls or texts.

  When I get out of the elevator and walk out into the hallway, I see a pile of boxes up ahead. My first thought is that someone must be moving, but then I realize that the boxes are outside Liam’s apartment. My walk quickens until I get close enough to see that these are my belongings.

  “Liam?” I ask, moving to the door and trying the doorknob. “What’s going on? Are you really so angry at me for the DNA test?”

  There is no response. I reach into my purse and pull out my key to open the door. I struggle with the lock for a moment until I realize that it’s not going to work. Liam changed the locks.

  “Liam!” I shout through the door, knocking on it loudly. “Seriously? You’re kicking me out? You’re not even going to talk to me?”

  I put my back against the wall and slump down until I’m sitting on the floor. I pull out my phone and stare at it, thinking of who I should text to help me pack up my things. Everyone I know is back in Michigan. Except for maybe Krista, but I barely know her and she has exams. So, of course, I make the classic, pointless breakup mistake of texting the one person I normally go to for help:

  I am close to tears, and I know that the moment he opens that door, I’m going to throw myself on him and beg him to forgive me, and cling to him until he c
aves and un-kicks me out. But he doesn’t respond, and I find myself staring at the door for several minutes.

  The text messages sound totally calm and reasonable. Surely he will cave and his gentlemanly heroic side will win out, and he will decide to help me. I just need him to open the door. That’s all. I just need to touch him, and kiss him, and I know that everything will be okay.

  I stare at the motionless doorknob for several more minutes. I even lie down on the floor to gaze under the door, but I don’t see any shadows or feet moving around. He’s not even near the door. I don’t even know if he’s at home. But he must be! He just… hates me.

  Closing my eyes tightly to ward off tears, I feel my breathing become short and shallow. I am trying to stay calm, and gasping for breath as though I’m crying, even though I’m trying so hard to avoid being more of a mess than I already am.

  I brought this on myself. I know that. I know that I deserve this.

  When my phone pings with a text message, my heart soars and I nearly drop it in my mad rush to read what it says.

  It’s not from Liam. My heart quickly sinks even lower than it was before.

  But I read the text message anyway, because I really need a friend. Anyone who cares is a blessing right now. It’s from David.

  I bite my lip before responding.

  It takes David a second to respond, and I stare at the screen until he does.

  I immediately feel a little better. The pile of boxes isn’t that large, and I don’t have that much stuff, but from where I’m sitting here on the ground, it looks like a mountain. My hands are shaking, and I know that even if manage to load up all the boxes into my car without dropping anything, I won’t be able to drive in this condition. I will probably just sit in my car and cry.

  At least if David comes here, I can have a shoulder to cry on, and an extra pair of helping hands until I feel better. I proceed to text him the address.

  “It looks like these are the last two boxes,” David says as he easily lifts them. “You doing okay?”

  I nod slowly. This whole time, I have remained sitting on the floor beside Liam’s door. Every few minutes, I have knocked and begged and pleaded for him to let me in, like a total fool. My eyes are red and puffy from crying and my voice is scratchy from screaming.

  “One last time,” David says gently. “Try one last time, and if he doesn’t respond… we need to get out of here and leave him to his misery.”

  I nod again. Placing my cheek against the door, I take a deep breath, knowing it is futile.

  “Liam, don’t you want to say goodbye at least?” I ask through the door. “Please. I know that I hurt you, but let’s still be friends. All my stuff is in the car, except these last two boxes. I’m leaving, okay? I just want to see you before I go. I love you, and I just want to know that you’re okay.”

  There is no response. I wait for a few seconds before turning to look at David. His face is filled with pity and understanding. He has been so patient and helpful through all of this.

  “What do I do now?” I ask him.

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. What were you supposed to be doing?”

  “I was supposed to be packing for my honeymoon,” I tell him softly. “I guess that’s not going to happen, now.”

  “Where were you guys going?” David asks. “Let me guess: Hawaii!”

  I shake my head. “Paris.”

  “Ohhhh. Paris,” David says with a nod. “The City of Love. A great destination.”

  We are silent for a moment longer, until David clears his throat.

  “Hey, you know what’s embarrassing? I call myself an artist, but I’ve never been to the Louvre. That’s like being a writer and never having read the classics, like Tolstoy or Harry Potter.”

  I stare at him blankly for a moment until an idea strikes me. “Wanna come with me? I have the plane ticket already and I don’t think I could bring myself to travel alone right now.”

  “Why not?” David asks, as his face begins to brighten. “Maybe it could do us both some good. Your sister is dogsitting Snowball, so I’m a free man.”

  I finally manage to push my mouth into the shape of a smile. The idea does make me feel a little better. I have been looking forward to my honeymoon for months. Why shouldn’t I go? I was honest with Liam about what I did. Maybe stealing the DNA sample was disrespectful of his wishes, but it wasn’t entirely selfish. I may have done something terrible, but it caused good things to happen, too. Sophie is wonderful, and I am glad to have met her, even if Liam isn’t.

  Maybe getting the hell out of this country is exactly what I need right now.

  Getting the hell out of this country with a single, sexy painter who has seen me naked could be even better. Putting my palm on the ground and pushing myself upright, I glare at my ex-fiancé’s apartment.

  “Last chance, Liam!” I shout through the door. “You either let me in try to forgive me, or at least talk to me, or I’m leaving. For good. For real. I am not going to sit out here and cry for you like a pathetic little child.”

  When there is no response, it only confirms my decision.

  “Fine,” I tell David with a nod. “Let’s go to Paris.”

  “One sec,” David says, moving toward the door. “Hey, buddy, I just wanted to warn you that Helen’s really vulnerable right now. If you don’t want to risk losing her, you should really open the door. Because I’m going to be so fucking charming and caring and supportive, and completely take advantage of the fact that you’re being a major douchebag to a girl who obviously loves you like crazy.”

  I hold my breath, wondering if these threats are going to work. If Liam won’t open the door for me, will he do it out of jealousy? Men are often more easily motivated into taking action by empty jealousy than by love or devotion. They are more sensitive to the feeling of being threatened than willing to put in a tiny amount of effort to preserve a relationship.

  But Liam doesn’t respond.

  “Are you sure he’s in there?” David asks, and when I nod, he frowns. “Liam! Don’t be a fool, man. I’m serious. A girl like this is one in a million, and you should be thanking Helen for what she did. Even if it sucked a little to find out about your sister like that, just be grateful you ever found her at all! What if you needed to do that DNA test for health reasons when you were like, eighty or ninety years old, and you learned you had a sister, but she had died years ago? Isn’t it amazing that you found her while you are both still young, and can have some time together? Get to know each other? Not everyone has that chance! For thousands of years, if family members got separated, that was it! It was done. They’d usually never find each other again.”

  David is trying so hard, and it’s endearing, I put my hand on his arm, and shake my head to indicate that this is pointless. Liam doesn’t want to see me.

  “Fine!” David shouts. “But you really hurt Helen. Don’t think that I’m not going to swoop down on her like a vulture who smells wounded prey. I’m gonna make real sure she knows that even if you are too much of a dick to appreciate her, there are other men in this world who would be happy to worship the ground she walks on. It’s her wedding night, isn’t it? She’s going to be so upset and distraught and broken up over what you did. A few drinks, and she is going to need some male comfort, don’t you think? I think so. You know what I think? In order to try and forget you, and the heartless way you abandoned her, she’s probably going to need a willing volunteer to fuck her brains out.”

  “David!” I whisper nudging him with my elbow. “That’s going too far.”

  “Sorry. I had to try. If he’s not going to come storming out of there now, to beat the stuffing out of me, then I don’t think there’s anything we can do or say. He needs time alone.”

  Taking a deep shuddering breath, I nod. “Thanks for trying. Let’s just go.”

  “I wasn’t totally exaggerating my intentions,” David says with a wink as he carries the last two boxes down the hallway.

  “I know,�
�� I tell him. “But I really just need a friend right now. I can’t stand to be alone.”

  “That’s the dictionary definition of vulnerable,” he points out.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I feel so numb.

  Sitting on the plane beside David, he is chattering on about all the things he longs to do in Paris, and I can’t hear a word he’s saying. All I can see is the image of Liam’s back walking away from me, and the pile of boxes outside his apartment. All I can see is the closed door in my face, and the sinking feeling of being completely shut out.

  Everything inside me hurts, but I feel absolutely nothing at the same time.

  “Looks like we’re taking off,” David says, as the plane finally begins moving.

  I stare at the scenery below, thinking about how I ruined everything.

  “Hey,” David says, grabbing my hand and squeezing it gently. “Cheer up. Better to not get married at all than to be married for years like I was, and then have a divorce that rips you in half and totally rips your life apart. The earlier, the better!”

  It doesn’t feel better.

  “Helen,” David says gently. “Look at me. This is your honeymoon. You’re having it with the wrong guy, but we’re going to enjoy ourselves, okay? You need to make a real effort to not be miserable. Don’t let Liam have all this power over you. Don’t let him completely crush you. You’re a strong, independent woman with your own life and you don’t need him.”

  I nod slowly, and try to force myself to speak. “I’m sorry, David. I’m trying to be strong, but it’s all so fresh. I’m getting there, okay? Maybe if I get some sleep on this flight, I’ll have more energy when we arrive in Paris.”

  “Sleep all you want,” he says with a smile. “Just don’t get upset if I sketch you! I also have eBooks to read, and research to do on the best restaurants and attractions in France. I hope you don’t mind a lot of stuff related to art. I’m not in Europe every day, and I feel like it’s an opportunity to really get inspired by greatness and immersed in culture and romance.”