Page 67 of Gravity of Love
His father’s tone caused Liam’s mouth to go dry, but thankfully, his father wasn’t the only one with years of practiced casualness. He may be a thirty-three year old man, but suddenly he felt like a ten-year-old child. “Tell you what?”
Edward reached into his inside jacket pocket and produced a folded piece of paper. A utility bill, addressed to Liam Davies. He held it up, pinched between two fingers.
“I found this at your house.” His father’s tone was the same as when he’d found a joint in Liam’s backpack. “It was on your desk. I thought maybe it was a typo.” He smiled, just barely. “But when I asked the intake nurse to page ‘Dr. Davies,’ you showed up. Was it a professional reason? Did you not want to be in my shadow?”
This was a conversation Liam had imagined having a thousand times. He’d even wondered if his father would discover his surname change at the hospital, since they were both in the medical field, but why would the great, world-renowned surgeon Dr. Edward Sterling III ever grace Pine Ridge General Hospital with his presence? Or why would the great Dr. Edward Sterling III ever think to look up how his son was doing? Oh right, because Liam wasn’t his son.
He honestly never thought Dr. Edward Sterling III would have the audacity to think his name change was about him. But why not? Why wouldn’t he think that? Liam felt like an idiot that he hadn’t considered his dad would assume it was about him.
“Davies is my biological father’s last name,” he said, voice measured and surprisingly strong. “I started using it about seven years ago, when I got out of the service.”
Which you would have known if you actually gave a shit.
His father’s eyes widened in shock, and his jaw tensed. It was only for a second, before he quickly recovered, his expressionimmediately returning to neutral. “I never knew Michael’s… When did you find out?”
Liam tried to steady his breathing. He could still hear the memory—the muffled argument through his mother’s closed bedroom door, his anger, the pleading sound in his mother’s voice, and the words that changed his entire life.
“The night before Mom died,” Liam finally relayed. “I heard you two talking.”
His father’s lips pressed into a thin white line, and he swayed slightly. For a second, Liam thought he was going to pass out. But then his dad took a deep breath, and he was steady once more.
“You never said anything.” It was more accusation than statement.
“There was a lot going on.” Liam kept his tone transactional. He didn’t want to fight, not there, not under the greenhouse haze of hospital humidity.
His father nodded. “So you just decided to go looking for him?”
Liam hesitated. He could lie, but for better or worse, this was the man who’d raised him, and even though they didn’t share DNA, he’d always been able to see through him. “After I got out of the service.”
“Hmm.” The sound was equal parts amusement and disappointment. “You tracked him down.”
Liam nodded.
There was an odd hush, the kind that falls when two people have run out of things to threaten each other with.
His dad shifted his weight, looked over Liam’s shoulder through the window, then met his gaze once again. “And you met him?”
“No.”
The response caught his dad off guard. “You didn’t meet him?”
“No.”
His father’s brow furrowed. “But you…you changed yourname?”
“Yes.”
The glass door opened, and Dr. Lange, the chief of surgery appeared. “Dr. Sterling, I’m so sorry I kept you waiting.”
As Dr. Lange held the door open, white coat floating behind her, eyes darting between the two men, the world telescoped in on itself. That moment brought his father’s visit into excruciating focus. Liam was transported in a time machine back to his childhood. He remembered, with humiliating clarity, what it felt like to be a distant second to his dad’s one true love: medicine. Well, medicine and his ego, which were tied for the top spot.
Liam stared at his dad, a small part of him daring him to say something—some apology, some small acknowledgment of the seismic dislocation he’d just triggered. His silence was both a vacuum and a verdict.
“Thank you for making time, we can use my office.” Dr. Lange, all business and brisk efficiency, cut the tension, her voice pitched to professionalism.
With zero emotion, his father’s priorities reassembled, rigid and clinical. Dr. Edward Sterling III did not so much as look over his shoulder at Liam. He just nodded, tight-lipped, and followed Dr. Lange out.
The solarium door shut with a soft click and the realization that he wasn’t even worth a thirty-minute drive after discovering a change of identity sank in as Liam watched his dad’s retreating back, the familiar slight hitch in the left hip, and the set of his broad shoulders. How many times had he analyzed that posture, searching for signs of affection, of pride, of anything butimpatience and disappointment? For his dad, the confrontation had been an afterthought, another box to tick before the real meeting. He had never been priority one. Realizing that at thirty-three was no less embarrassing than it was at thirteen.
