Chapter 21 If Only
Liam's POV
The waves brushed softly against the yacht, but all I could hear was my own heartbeat. I stood at the railing, watching the taxi drive away. From where I stood, it was only a blur of light and metal, but I knew she was inside. I did not need to see her clearly. I would have recognized her anywhere.
I had not spoken to Mia after the pool. I stayed silent, even though everything in me wanted to tell her the truth, that I did not just want her as a friend. I wanted more.
But she had Josh. And for some reason, Josh had her. I had no right to interfere, no matter how unreal it felt, no matter how much it hurt to see her smile for someone else.
My hands tightened on the railing. She looked back once. Maybe she saw me. Maybe she did not. But she did not wave or smile.
She only looked at me, and somehow that hurt more. In that brief moment, I saw the sadness in her eyes, the ache she tried to hide. And I knew it was the same ache I carried too.
I swallowed hard, jaw tightening as the sun caught her hair one last time before the cab disappeared into the city.
I had never felt anything like this before. The pain of missing someone who was still there. The helpless feeling of watching something beautiful fade without ever getting the chance to hold it.
She was not mine. Maybe she never would be, and that truth hurt more than I wanted to acknowledge. I hated how much I wished she would look back at me one last time. But she did not. So I stood there, unable to move, too proud to chase her and too broken to walk away, wishing I had met her first.
The days that followed were heavy and slow. Each one felt like punishment, filled with everything I never said and all the feelings I could not silence.
I stayed away from Mia, not because I wanted to, but because I had no choice. Every part of me wanted to be near her, to hear her voice, to see one of her quiet, tired smiles. But I did not let myself. Because I knew that if I got too close, I would say something I could never take back, and do something I could never undo.
Mia did not need more confusion in her life. Not now, when everything around her was already breaking, and not when her heart was still holding on to someone else.
So I stayed away, even though it felt like losing a part of myself every time I passed her in the hallway and acted like she was not there. She had asked me to keep my distance. She did it gently, without anger, but she meant it.
It was not really about rumors or what people might say, even though those things mattered. It was about Josh. About loyalty. About how Mia still wanted to believe in the boy who had always been beside her, even if he was not the one who truly understood her. I had to respect that, even when it hurt.
So I spent more time with Daniel and the other guys, laughing when I could and letting the noise distract me. But part of me was always alert, listening for anything that might hurt Mia.
Because no matter how far I stayed from her, I could not stop caring. I would always want to protect her, even if she never knew, even if she would not have wanted me to. And no matter what I told myself, I could not stop watching her.
I threw myself into football after that, training harder than ever. But I did not let my academics suffer. When I was alone in my room, I studied longer, rereading my notes and books, using schoolwork to distract myself and keep my mind off Mia.
My eyes always gave me away. In class, in the courtyard, in the hallways, even in the locker room, I found myself looking for her. No matter how hard I tried to stay away, part of me was always drawn to her in silence.
It felt like something invisible kept pulling my gaze toward her, toward the girl who sat alone, quiet and worn down, hiding her pain behind a calm mask that even her old friends no longer noticed.
I looked because I missed her. Because I wanted her to look back at me. And because, deep down, I still hoped she would change her mind.
"Why did you stop talking to her," Daniel muttered one morning, leaning against the desk beside me as we waited for class to start, "if you cannot stop staring at her?"
I blinked, caught off guard. My gaze had been locked on Mia again, on the way she twirled her pen between her fingers, eyes distant, lips pressed in a line like she was trying not to feel anything at all.
I did not answer right away because I did not know what to say. How could I explain that I stayed away because she asked me to, but I still watched her because I could not stop myself? That I hated how much I hoped she would look up and see me again?
The truth was, I did not fight for her because it would only make her life harder. And I cared about her too much to be that selfish.
"I warned you," Daniel added softly, his voice tinged with something almost like guilt. "Did not think you would actually listen."
I swallowed hard, my voice rough. "I did not listen for you," I said. "I listened for her."
Daniel fell quiet after that because he knew.
Across the room, Mia never looked up. Still, I watched her, like I always did. Because even if she was not mine, she already meant everything to me.
I was not supposed to be there. I took the long way home and told myself it was just to clear my head. But deep down, I knew the truth. I knew the routes Mia usually took after school, the quiet streets she chose when she wanted to disappear.
I kept telling myself it was a coincidence, until I saw her standing outside the old bookstore. She was staring at the window, arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to stay strong. The afternoon light brushed over her hair, turning it gold and easing the tension in her shoulders. She looked small and fragile.
She was alone. I stopped walking and held my breath. For a moment, I could not move. Then, as if she sensed me watching, Mia turned and our eyes met. Her cheeks slowly flushed, a soft pink spreading across her face. I was not imagining it. I could tell she felt something for me too.
There were no words. No smiles. Just a moment so intense it felt like the world faded away. In that silence, everything we never said felt louder than words. Her lips parted, like she might speak. But she did not. And neither did I.
“Because how do you say I miss you when she was the one who asked you to leave, the one who told you to stay away?”
She blinked first and looked down. Her grip tightened on her books. Then she gave a small nod, more to herself than to me, and turned away.
I stayed where I was, my throat tight, watching her walk off. Every step she took made me hate myself for not stopping her. But I did not move because I was not sure I would be able to stop.