Chapter 7 Chapter seven
Liana’s POV
I barely noticed the music as we stepped out of the gala.
His hand was still locked around mine, warm and tight, as if he feared I would vanish if he let go. But I wasn't there anymore. I was already thinking of home.
I slipped into the passenger side of his car without a sound. He looked at me with uncertainty, as if waiting for the words, any words that would let him know that tonight had been an awesome night.
He glanced at me a few times as he started the engine, waiting for me to smile, to laugh, to lean in against him like I probably should after all that had transpired tonight.
I didn't.
I kept my face pressed against the glass, watching the city lights blur by. My chest ached, like something too big was stuck inside, something too sharp to breathe around.
"You were tremendous tonight," he said to me finally, his voice low and guarded.
I smiled at him. Barely. I wasn't strong enough to stroke his ego right now. Not when every nerve in my body ached, not when all I could think was to hold my daughter close and remember the sensation of real love.
"I mean it," he repeated, louder this time, as if perhaps he didn't think I'd heard him the first go-around. "You stole the whole damn show."
“As it should be,” I thought but kept my silence.
The ride was slow, the tension between us mounting with each mile. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, restless, before trying again.
"I thought maybe, after all… we could spend the night together. Celebrate a little?"
I shifted in my seat and looked at him fully for the first time since we left. I made certain my voice remained calm, controlled.
"When we get to my house, you can drop me off and leave."
He blinked, like he hadn't quite caught what I said. "Drop you off? I thought…"
“You thought what? That we're a thing and you can lie in my bed?" I broke in, my tone abrupt. "No sir. You asked to be my date for tonight, I agreed cause I needed the attention. That's simply it.” I said. I knew I was sounding a bit harsh but I needed him to get the memo. He just stared at me in shock and continued driving.
After everything, I just wanted to be alone.
I did like this guy but he was being too persistent and too forward. I might have liked it on other days but today, I had too much on my mind.
He parted his lips as if he wanted to say something, to plead maybe, but he changed his mind.
Good.
When we finally pulled up at my house, I buckled my seatbelt and pushed open the door in a hurry, desperate to escape the car, to be able to breathe normally once more. I could feel him staring at me, watching, trying to alter my decision with a final look.
I leaned forward and gave him a little, polite peck on the cheek. Nothing more than a consolation prize.
"Goodnight," I said firmly.
He sighed, and I saw the last glimmer of hope fade from his face.
"Goodnight, Liana."
I slipped out of the car without even looking back, the door closing with a click that felt like the final nail in a coffin.
The moment I entered the house and shut the front door, tension relaxed from my shoulders. I took off my heels, the heels wherever they landed, and dumped my clutch on the console table near the door. My feet ached, my head pounded, but all I could do was think of Cam.
"You're home," my mother's voice drifted across from the living room, soft and expectant.
I smiled and approached her. She was slumped in her usual position on the armchair, wrapped up snugly with a blanket around her knees, a cold glass of tea beading on the table beside her. The television purred quietly out in the distance, sending faint blue light around the room.
"Yeah," I replied, settling into the couch opposite her. "It ran a bit behind."
She regarded me, her eyes glinting in the shadows. There was no misunderstanding the weariness etched into the delicate lines of her face, or the pinched tension of concern at the edges of her mouth.
"How was it?" she asked, her tone cautious.
"It was… a lot," I said, smiling weakly, the sound little more than a whisper.
I leaned over, willing myself to hold back no longer. "Cam?" I whispered, my heart pounding in the attempt.
"I put her in bed a little earlier tonight," Mom said, wiping her hand across her face, the gold wedding band catching the light. "She was exhausted. Didn't even complain."
Relief flooded over me, so pure and suffocating it closed my throat. I leaned back against the couch, finally able to breathe for the first time in what felt like forever.
"Thank you," I whispered. "For staying with her. For... for standing by me. For everything. I love you so much, mum. Always."
Mom fidgeted uncomfortably, pulling the blanket higher up her chest. She'd stood with me every step of the way — the relocation, the sleepless lonely nights, the gnawing doubt that consumed my marrow. When work engulfed me, she'd stepped in without a murmur, her love as changeless and as reliable as the tide.
"Don't get emotional on me now," she growled. "You know I can't stand any of those mushy stuff"
I chuckled, using my thumb to swipe away the corner of my eye before tears had a chance to escape.
"You're impossible," I said to her.
"And you're dramatic," she shot back, though her voice was warm, nearly proud.
We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, something which didn't often present itself, but we welcomed it nonetheless.
"So," she throat-cleared. "How was the big reveal?"
I leaned forward, my slow, wicked smile spreading across my face. My hands hammered with the desire to take it, to savor it. "It was perfect," I panted, my voice husky and liquid. "Right there on that stage, I looked into Dominic's eyes. And I saw it."
Mom cocked her head to one side, curious. "Saw what?"
"Terror," I answered bluntly. "True terror — or should I say horror. Tonight, he discovered how much he underestimated me."
Mom let out a soft grunt, a sound of approval, but her eyebrows creased in a fretful frown. "I'm proud of you, Liana," she said slowly. "God knows you've worked hard enough to deserve this moment. But I would advise you to be wise. Don't let anger and rage get the better of you."
I gazed at her, truly gazed at her.
At the woman who had stayed quiet all these years, praying I'd live through the fights she could only hope I'd survive. Who still hoped I'd retreat before the darkness claimed me.