Page 75 of Marry Lies
I’m just about to excuse myself when Liam sets his cheeseburger down and begins to speak.
“You know, three years ago, my best friend died.” He pauses, grabbing his drink and taking a sip before setting it back down. “His name was Elias. I met him in university. I was the best man at his wedding. I was there for the birth of his daughter, Zoe. We grew apart a bit as Zoe grew up, especially during the first few years of her life, but I was at every birthday party. I was there for every holiday and special occasion.”
I pull my knees closer to my chest as he continues. “Three years ago, Elias and his wife, Brooke, were hiking. They’d left Zoe at home—she was fifteen at the time. You know how it is with teenage girls. Anyway, they didn’t come back that night. The next morning, Zoe and I went to the police station to report them missing. We searched for them for days—and about a week later, we learned they’d gotten swept up in a freak flash flood accident. It had been raining, and the river where they were hiking was swollen and dangerous.”
I swallow. “I’m so sorry,” I tell him. “What happened to Zoe?”
At that, Liam smiles. “Zoe was distraught. We both were. Especially when we found out that they’d appointed me as her guardian.”
I sit up a bit straighter. “I didn’t know that.”
He shrugs. “In name only. She wants nothing to do with me. She’d been attending boarding school since she was eleven, so aside from taking time off for the funeral, she wanted to go back to her friends. She was fifteen…I don’t blame her. She’s fiercely independent, and the strongest person I know. I hardly see her, and when I do call her, I get one-word answers. Typical almost eighteen-year-old.”
“Is she graduating soon?” I ask.
He nods. “Yeah. She’s applying to the local University, where I work. She wants to save money, so she’ll be living with me.” He rubs his mouth. “I anticipate it’ll be an adjustment for both of us. Anyway, the point of my story is, after Elias died, I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety.”
I go still, not saying anything. I’ve met a few people who had depression, but I never would’ve guessed Liam suffered from it, too.
He takes another bite of his cheeseburger. “It took a few months to adjust to my meds, and sometimes I still have my bad days, but…” He trails off, giving me a pointed look. “If you ever need to talk about it with someone other than my sourpuss brother, give me a call.”
“How did you know?” I ask carefully.
“I sort of deduced it when we spent some time together last week. And then Miles told me this morning when I called him. He told me about your grandmother. I’m sorry for your loss, Stella.”
My response catches in my throat. “Thanks.” Clearing my throat, I straighten my legs and grab the drink. I may not be hungry, but the taste of the cold soda is very refreshing. “I’ve always had bad days,” I start. “Ups and downs, like any normal person. But the grief from losing my grandmother was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. She was myperson.It felt like someone ripped the carpet out from under me. In the days after she died, I hardly got out of bed. Apparently, grief can trigger a plethora of mental health issues that are lying dormant. By the time her funeral rolled around, I was on autopilot.”
I think of Miles and the fountain. That had been one of the only good nights in a year of bad nights.
“I tried medication, but nothing worked. My doctors officially diagnosed me with treatment-resistant depression four months ago.”
“Fuck,” Liam utters, blowing out a breath of air. “That must’ve been really hard.”
I nod, swallowing again. “It was. But, we implemented a plan of action. And until this week, it had been working. I started exercising every morning. Waking up at the same time, doing the same things, seeing the same people. Routine helps me. But of course, my life was sort of thrown for a loop when…” I trail off.
When I fake-married your brother.
“You know, I might’ve encouraged himnotto go through with the fake marriage if I’d known the whole story. But our father can be very convincing. Miles has always felt the need to be the martyr of the family. He’d take a bullet for any of us in an instant, and I think doing this is his way of protecting us. His way of diverting the attention away from us. To ensure that our father feels as if he’s in control of one of his children’s lives.”
And Miles hates every second of that control,I think glumly.
He’s doing it for his brothers, in the only way he can, so Charles will leave the rest of them alone.
“I understand,” I say slowly.
“He cares about you,” Liam adds, his voice softer than before. “I can tell by the way he talks about you.”
Doubtful,I want to say. But I stay quiet as Liam continues, soaking up his words.
“I’m not sure if he told you about what happened to him,” Liam says, eyeing me with his pine-green eyes.
I nod. “He told me. About the accident.”
“He saved our lives. Despite me telling him to get himself out. Despite knowing he could die. Imagine being a kid and being that courageous?”
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I hold myself back from crying. “I can’t imagine,” I whisper.
“He sort of withdrew into himself after that. Developed a very dry sense of humor to go along with it, too. He can be an ass, but he has a big heart.”
