Page 107 of Shared By my Ex's Best Friends
“What’d you say back?” I ask, my voice careful. Not pushing. Just giving him space.
Liam lifts his gaze to mine. There’s a weight there—tired but steady.
“I told him we love her,” he says. “That we see her. That she’s not too much or not enough. That what we have, it’sours.That he lost her the second he stopped seeing who she really is.”
I let out a slow breath, let it settle in my chest like a stone sinking into still water.
That sounds exactly like Liam. Measured. Honest. Final.
Jake scoffs, pacing still. “Guy still thinks shebelongsto him. That’s not love. That’s possession.”
“I know,” Liam says, softer now. His arms fold across his chest like he’s trying to hold himself together. “That’s why I didn’t want to tell her.”
I blink, shifting off the fridge. “You didn’t?”
He shakes his head, eyes flicking upward toward the ceiling—toward the room where Maya is supposed to be resting, stretched out on a yoga mat, disconnected from all this.
“Didn’t want to stress her out. She’s already carrying so much,” he says. “I thought maybe… maybe she didn’t need to know.”
The floorboard at the base of the stairs creaks—soft, but unmistakable. All three of us freeze, hearts in our throats.
Slowly, like a scene in a dream, we turn.
Maya stands just outside the doorway, one hand braced lightly against the doorframe, the other resting over the curve of her belly. Her hair is still damp, curling at the ends where it’s drying, and her sweatshirt sleeves are shoved up to her elbows.
Her expression is unreadable—tired, yes, but clear and sharp in a way that makes my chest ache. Like she already knew. Like she’s been bracing for this moment.
She doesn’t speak right away. Just looks at each of us in turn. And then her eyes land on Liam.
“I wanted some water,” she says softly, voice like the wind before a storm.
Liam steps forward, guilt etched in every line of his face. “Maya—”
She holds up a hand, stopping him gently. “It’s okay,” she says. “I’m not mad.”
Jake’s the next to move. He stops pacing and steps closer, his voice quieter now. “We weren’t trying to hide it. Just… protect you.”
“I know.” She nods, almost to herself. “And I love you for it.”
She steps into the room, and we all move aside to let her through. She walks slowly, purposefully, then sinks into one of the chairs at the kitchen table.
Her movements are careful now—there’s more weight to them than even a few weeks ago—but there’s still grace in it. She rests her palm over her belly again, thumb brushing back and forth across the fabric of her sweatshirt.
It’s something she does often now.
“I’ve been dreading this conversation with him,” she says, eyes fixed on the wood grain in the table. “Pretending like if I just stayed quiet long enough, it’d go away. But it won’t. Not really.”
I move to sit across from her, elbows resting on my knees. “You don’t owe him anything, Maya.”
“I know,” she says again, her voice a little steadier this time. “But I owemyselfpeace.” Her fingers curl lightly against the table’s edge. “And with the baby coming… I don’t want to carry old ghosts into something so new.”
Jake slides into the chair beside her, his posture protective but not overbearing. Liam stays standing behind her, resting a hand on her shoulder. Just a simple touch, but it says everything.
“What are you thinking?” I ask, though I can already feel where this is going.
“That I need to see him,” she says. “Not to fix anything. Not for closure. I don’t need it fromhim,but because I want to look him in the eye and say what I should’ve said a long time ago. Onmyterms.”
Liam looks pained but nods, his hand tightening slightly where it rests on her shoulder. “You don’t have to do it alone.”
