Page 95 of Most Valuable Player
Liam stares at me with incredulous eyes, and suddenly, he’s throwing his head back and laughing angrily. “Are you kidding?” he cries out. “You bitch and moan about how much I hurt you, and now you’re standing here with the boy you’re cheating on me with, basically begging me to smack the shit out of you. What am I supposed to do, genuinely?”
“Mason,stop.” Cameron’s finally on his feet, though he’s grasping at his side. He snags my shoulder and tries pulling me behind him, but my feet stay flat.
“No,” I say. His touch reinvigorates me, easing the tremble in my limbs. Somehow, I manage to meet Liam’s icy eyes. “I’m not your property.”
“Mason,” Cameron pleads, but I continue over him.
“Youhavehurt me.” My fingers curl into frustrated fists. All the while, Liam stares with a mixture of emotions—heated disbelief being the most prominent. “You tried to isolate me. You’d say I was special, then make me feel worthless. You accused me of horrible things so you could own parts of me. My smile. My social life. My passion.”
The words are spilling out, despite knowing this isn’t the time orplace for this. But I can’t help it. With Cameron’s comforting presence at my back, I can finally say it. For the first time, Liam is the one frozen solid, unable to move.
“You never had feelings for me when I was thirteen, did you?” I choke out, blinking through the thickness of tears. “You saw my homelife, my social struggles and quiet personality, and it wasperfect. You knew all it would take was a little attention to win me over.”
Liam’s exhales are coming more forcefully. Though the streetlamps framing the parking lot are dim, I can see redness pouring into his face.
“You thought you had me in your pocket after proposing,” I breathe, my fingers fumbling for Cameron’s free palm. His hand slides into mine, coarse and still damp with drying blood from his fall. “You pushed and pushed because you thought you could get away with it. You liked that I was becoming scared of you.”
“That’s not true,” Liam spits, to which my nose flares with annoyance.
I shout, “Yes it is!If you loved me,trulyloved me, why hurt me so much? Stopping me from going to homecomings, parties, bonfires…punishing me whenever I raised my voice, pointing out my flaws over and over…” I can’t figure out if I want to scream or dissolve into a sobbing breakdown or shove him or do all simultaneously. “I was never a person to you. Just a trophy. A box to check.”
I step forward.
Liam steps back.
“I’m not your toy anymore!” I yell, tears dripping into my burgundy suit. “You don’t get to push me around. I don’t owe you anything just because you bought me gifts or did me favors. I’m allowed to have friends, feelings for other people. I…”
My breath hitches. Cameron’s thumb presses into the back of my palm. Encouragement.
“I deserve to be happy,” I say. “Especially without you.”
Liam’s jaw is set in a tight, firm line. I can almost see the force he’s applying to his teeth—it causes his face to tremble.
Then, suddenly, tears are grating down his cheeks.
“Really?” he whispers, clutching his head. He chokes on a forced, manic laugh that causes Cameron to shift closer to my back, as if preparing to yank me away. “You think that lowly of me? You, my best friend, my fiancé…”
His knees fold, and he strikes the ground, staring unblinkingly at the asphalt.
“All I’ve ever wanted is to love you,” he breathes.
My inhale hitches. His words poke into the cracked seals around my heart, allowing guilt to leak into my chest. I almost step forward to wrap my arms around him.
But he doesn’t deserve it.
“Come on,” Cameron mumbles, drawing me toward the banquet hall. I guess this is our chance to escape before Liam gets his second wind.
And yet…why does he look so miserable? Why is he crying? Is it another manipulation tactic? The way he spoke about “bettering himself” like it was achoresays everything about how little he wanted to treat me well.
So why?
“You don’t see it, do you?” I ask quietly. “You thought the only thing you needed to fix was how angry you got. That the only way you hurt me was physically, and if you could fix that and tack on enough apologies, it would solve us.”
Liam holds his head like his world is crumbling around him. Maybe it is. Maybe somewhere deep inside, part of himdidcare. He’s not some unnuanced cartoon villain laughing from the shadows as his plans unfold.
But when did this “love” spiral into obsession? Is it fair for me toassume he wanted to manipulate me from the start? Or did part of him genuinely find comfort in me, one of the only people who looked up to him and didn’t care about his wealth or popularity, while his parents expected him to shoulder every expectation without complaint? They’ve always pulled his strings behind the curtain, crafting him into a respectable individual worthy of inheriting their wealth. So many times, he told me he felt he had no control over his life, no direction aside from the path his parents pointed him toward.
Then was I the result of that?
