Page 75 of Shattered Melodies

I shook my head, trying to clear the images. This wasn’t the time or the place for those kinds of thoughts. Not when there was still so much unresolved between us, so many questions left unanswered.

And speaking of questions.

“Hey, Liam?” I called out, my voice echoing off the tile. “Can I ask you something?”

There was a pause, a moment of hesitation. But then Liam’s voice floated back, cautious but curious.

“Sure, what’s up?”

I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. “Why did you decide to leave with your parents all those years ago?”

The words hung heavy in the air, weighted with all the years of silence and regret. I could hear Liam’s sharp inhale, the way the water cut off abruptly.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the drip-drip-drip of the shower and the pounding of my own heart in my ears.

But then Liam spoke, his voice rough and raw with emotion.

“There was nothing for me here,” he said, the words like a punch to the gut. “After what happened, I was scared and confused. I woke up and you weren’t there, which pretty much told me what I needed to know.”

I frowned, my brow furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean? What did it tell you?”

Liam poked his head out from behind the stall door, his eyes meeting mine with a look of pure, aching vulnerability.

“That you’d finally figured out I wasn’t worth it.”

The words hit me like a freight train, stealing the breath from my lungs. I stared at him, my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Liam,” I finally managed to choke out, my voice cracking with emotion. “That’s not…that’s not true at all.”

He shrugged, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips. “Isn’t it, though? I mean, why else would you have left me there, alone in that hospital bed?”

I shook my head, feeling like I was drowning in the depths of his pain, his betrayal. “I didn’t leave you, Liam. I was there, begging the nurses to let me see you.”

Liam’s eyes widened, a flicker of surprise and something else, something that might have been hope, crossing his face.

“You were?” he asked, his voice small and uncertain.

I nodded, my throat tight with unshed tears. “Of course I was. But your parents…they wouldn’t let me in. Told me I was a bad influence, that I needed to stay away.”

Liam’s face crumpled, his eyes squeezing shut like he was in physical pain. “They told me you never came,” he whispered, the words like shards of glass. “That you didn’t care, that you’d moved on.”

I felt a surge of anger, hot and bright in my chest. How could they have done that to him, to us? How could they have lied and manipulated and torn us apart, just when we needed each other most?

But I pushed the anger down, focusing on the broken boy in front of me. The one who had been hurt and betrayed, not just by his parents, but by me too.

Because I should have fought harder. Should have found a way to get to him, to make him see the truth.

I should have been there, should have held him and kissed him and never let him go.

But I hadn’t. I had let my own fear and insecurity get the best of me, had let myself believe that maybe, just maybe he was better off without me.

And now, sitting here in the fading light of day, with the sound of the shower and the smell of soap and the aching, gaping wound of our past laid bare between us I knew that I had been wrong. Knew that I would spend the rest of my life making it right, making up for all the time we had lost and all the pain we had caused each other.

“Liam,” I said, my voice rough with emotion. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me, sorry I let you believe even for a second that you weren’t worth fighting for.”

He looked at me, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “But you did fight for me, didn’t you? You tried to get to me, tried to see me.”

I nodded, reaching out to take his hand in mine. “I did. I fought like hell, Liam. But I should have fought harder. Should have found a way, no matter what.”

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