Chapter 75 A Family Dinner
Mia’s POV
I stared at my phone for what felt like the hundredth time that evening.
I had texted Liam hours ago, just something simple.
“Are you done with practice? I miss you.”
It was not clingy, not desperate, just honest, and still there was no reply. Normally, he would respond within minutes with a teasing emoji, a “miss you more,” or sometimes just a photo of his hand holding a football with the caption, “Soon.”
But tonight, there was nothing. And now, my shift at the restaurant had ended. The last customers were gone. The kitchen lights were off. My apron smelled like grilled meat and garlic, and my sneakers stuck slightly to the floor with every step from the long night’s grime.
I wiped down tables until my hands ached, forced polite smiles when all I wanted was to check my phone again and again.
But still, no text message from Liam.
I sat by the locker room door, staring at my phone until my manager flicked off the lights and muttered, “Go home, Mia. Get some rest.”
I was grateful when I stepped outside and saw Josh leaning against his car, waiting. We had timed out at the same hour, but he never left without me.
He never did.
“Hey,” he greeted softly as I approached.
“Thanks for waiting,” I murmured, my voice small as I slid into the passenger seat.
We did not talk much. The car ride was quiet, the soft hum of the engine blending with the occasional crackle of the radio. The streets were nearly empty, just traffic lights blinking yellow and store signs going dark one by one, like the night itself was closing its eyes.
Josh glanced over once, sensing something off.
“You okay, Mia?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Just tired.” The lie came out easier than I thought it would. Josh did not push. He just gave me a slight nod and kept driving.
And that, his quiet understanding, made me want to cry more than any cruel word ever could.
By the time I got home, the silence was deafening. The small apartment felt colder than usual, like even the walls knew something was wrong.
I dropped my bag, toed off my shoes, and walked to my room in the dark. I did not bother turning on the light. I just collapsed onto the bed, curling around my pillow as the weight in my chest grew heavier with every passing second.
Then my phone chimed. My heart jumped, and I smiled, thinking it was Liam. I grabbed it quickly, almost knocking it off the mattress. My hands were shaking as I looked at the screen. But it was not him. It was Chloe. My stomach sank, and I hesitated before opening the message.
A photo loaded slowly, far too slowly, and then it appeared. Liam and Stacy. They were seated close together on a velvet couch that looked like it belonged in a five star hotel suite. Stacy’s hand rested on his forearm, her head tilted toward him like she had every right to lean in. Liam did not pull away. He was not smiling, but he was not moving either.
Another photo followed. Liam again, this time standing beside Stacy’s parents. And his own. All of them dressed in formal clothes. Glasses of wine in hand. Dinner plates on fine china. Candles flickering in the background.
It looked like a family dinner. Almost like an engagement rehearsal. My lungs tightened. My pulse pounded in my ears. The ache in my chest turned sharp.
Then came Chloe’s message, cruel as ever.
“Hope you enjoy the photos, Mia. Sweet dreams don’t last forever. You might want to wake up before yours turns into a nightmare.”
The screen blurred. I blinked hard, but it was too late.
Tears slipped out before I could stop them.
I sat frozen for what felt like hours staring into-nothingness. Trying to make sense of it. Trying to tell myself it did not mean anything. That maybe he was forced to be there. That maybe, he had no choice.
But if that were true, why had he not answered?
Why had he not even warned me?
Why did he let me sit in the dark waiting, while he sat beside another girl under candlelight?
My hand clenched around the phone. My throat burned with unshed sobs. But I refused to cry out loud.
I would not break. I had cried too many tears over people who never looked back.
I lay back on my bed, my eyes wide open in the dark, my phone pressed to my chest like it could explain itself if I held it tightly enough.
I did not sleep much. I spent most of the night staring at the photos Chloe sent, the ache blooming in my chest like a bruise I could not stop pressing.
I told myself I was done. That I would not cry. That whatever we had, it did not matter anymore.
But when I stepped out of the apartment that morning, ready to face the world with my armor zipped up tight, I saw Liam.
Leaning casually against the side of his black SUV, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, eyes already on me like he had been waiting all night.
And God, my heart betrayed me instantly.
He looked maddeningly handsome in the early morning light. Hair tousled from the breeze, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, and that jaw dropping smile that always undid me without warning.
The same smile that made me fall in love with him.
The same smile I swore I would not melt for anymore.
But still, my breath caught. My steps faltered. Because even after everything, just seeing him, alive and real and here, made my heart stumble like a girl who never got her goodbye.
I masked my emotions with a quiet frown, gripping my bag tighter.
“What are you doing here, Liam?” I asked, trying to sound unaffected, but my voice betrayed the crack in my wall.
He pushed off the car, walking toward me slowly like he was approaching something sacred.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he said simply. “I needed to see you.”
I looked away, biting the inside of my cheek to keep my voice steady.
“That’s funny. You didn’t seem to need me last night.”
His expression shifted. Guilt flashed behind his eyes, softening that beautiful face I wished I did not miss.
“Mia,” he said my name like a prayer, like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. “I can explain.”
“No,” I cut in quickly, holding up a hand. “Please don’t say things just to fix it. I’m not asking for an explanation, Liam. I’m not even sure I want one.”
But even as I said it, my eyes betrayed me. They kept drifting back to him, memorizing every detail like my heart had no interest in self preservation.
He took a step closer, his voice low and sincere.
“Then let me say this instead.”
I did not move. He looked at me like I was everything he had ever lost and was trying to win back with just his presence.
“I’m not here to ask for forgiveness right away. I know I hurt you. I know I made a mess of things. But Mia.”
He stepped even closer, his voice a quiet ache.
“I love you, Mia. But I couldn’t just disappear during a family dinner. It mattered to my parents,” he added.
My eyes stung with tears I refused to let fall.
For a moment, we just stood there. Two hearts still beating for each other in the stillness of the morning, surrounded by silence and a thousand unspoken words.
Then I whispered, so quietly he barely heard me.
“You should’ve called me.”
“I know.”
He stepped closer, and when I did not stop him, he gently cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear I had not realized had fallen.
And before I could say another word, he leaned in, and captured my lips. It was slow as if he was giving me the choice to walk away, but silently hoping I would not.
And for now, just for a breathless moment, I let myself believe in him again.