Chapter 74 Fuck
AVA
The sound of the drawer sliding open barely registered as I curled up on the couch, hugging my knees to my chest. My headache had finally eased, and for the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe...finally, fucking finally.
But then… silence. Not the comfortable kind, but the heavy, suffocating kind that presses down on your chest and makes your lungs ache. I shifted slightly, peeking over the back of the couch, and that’s when I saw him.
Liam.
He stood in the doorway, frozen, broad shoulders stiff, head tilted downward. The paper in his hand trembled slightly, and my chest stopped altogether. No. No, no, no. This did not look good, not at all, not one bit.
My lungs seized, pulse skyrocketing. He knows. He knows. I don’t move, I don’t breathe, I don’t even blink.
Slowly, painfully, he turned to face me. The test results still clenched in his fingers—but it wasn’t the paper that shattered me. It was his eyes. Dark, conflicted, wrecked.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was rough. Not angry. Not yet. But there was something worse, something raw and aching that dug into my chest.
I can’t speak. My tongue feels glued to the roof of my mouth. My throat tightens, and my fingers dig into my knees as if that’s the only way I can hold myself together.
He takes a step forward, and my breath shudders out.
“Ava.” His voice lowers, soft now, and it makes it worse.
I still don’t speak. What could I possibly say? That I was scared? That I wasn’t ready to face this? That I didn’t know how to tell him because I knew it would change everything? Because I knew it would change him?
“Jesus Christ.” He exhales sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. His other hand still grips the paper like it’s holding him together.
“How long were you going to keep this from me?”
My lips part, but nothing comes out. He lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. He never paces, but now his steps are harsh and purposeful, slicing through the silence of the room.
“Liam, I…” I begin, but then stop.
“In those two weeks,” he says, voice raw, trembling with something that feels like betrayal, “you watched me bust my ass at practice, do interviews, play through injuries… and you didn’t say a word?”
I open my mouth. He shakes his head.
“You didn’t think I had a right to know? That I deserved to know?”
“I was scared,” I whisper finally, the confession tasting bitter on my tongue.
“Of me?” His voice cracks slightly, raw.
“No. Never. I was scared of ruining everything.” I shake my head furiously. “Ruining what? You. Your career. Your dream.”
He stops pacing, staring at me like I’ve just slapped him. “You think this ruins something?”
“Ava, Jesus Christ.” He laughs bitterly, pained.
He steps forward, dropping the paper onto the coffee table as he kneels before me. His hands find my knees, gripping gently, but his face is anything but gentle.
“This changes everything, but it doesn’t ruin a damn thing.”
My breath hitches.
“You think I’d leave? That I’d walk away?” His voice shakes. “That I’d let you do this alone?”
Tears prick my eyes.
“I wasn’t ready,” I whisper. “I still don’t think I am.”
“Neither am I, baby,” he exhales, forehead pressing briefly against my knees before tilting his head up. “But ready or not, it’s happening. And I’m not going anywhere.”
A tear slips down my cheek. He catches it with his thumb, his other hand cupping my face as he leans in, pressing the softest, most heart-wrenching kiss to my forehead.
“I love you, Ava. And I love them too. No matter what.”
I break. The sob bursts out before I can stop it, and Liam is already pulling me into his arms, holding me together while I fall apart.
When he finally pulls back, lips brushing mine, he whispers, devastatingly soft:
“We’re in this together, baby. You and me.”
The silence between us thickens. My body trembles in his arms. His thumb wipes away my tears as if he’s afraid I might break.
“We’re in this together, baby. You and me.” He repeats, and the words melt something inside me. I cling to them, let them sink in, let myself believe them.
But then… he exhales. Long, shaky. His fingers slip from my face, trailing down my arms before falling away completely.
“But I can’t believe you didn’t trust me with this.”
The sentence hits me like a punch to the ribs.
“Liam…” My stomach drops.
“No.” His voice is sharp, not loud, but final.
He stands, runs a rough hand through his hair, shakes his head, jaw tight, chest rising and falling fast. He isn’t yelling—but the devastation in his eyes is worse than anything he could have screamed.
“Two weeks, Ava. Two weeks, sleeping next to you, kissing you, holding you, and all the while, you were keeping this from me.”
“It wasn’t like that. I… I was scared.”
“I know, Snowflakes. I know.”
But then the words I dread:
“You thought I’d pick my career over you.”
I freeze.
“You thought I’d choose hockey over—” He cuts himself off, head tilting back, throat bobbing, blinking at the ceiling like he’s trying to hold it all together.
Then… he exhales. Defeat.
“Liam, please.” I reach for him.
But he takes a step back.
“I need a second, Ava,” his voice hoarse, nodding toward the door. “I need to clear my head.”
My heart clenches. This is it. He’s leaving.
“No, please. Don’t walk out.” I shake my head.
His expression twists—like leaving hurts him as much as it hurts me. But he still does it.
Hand hovering on the doorknob for a heartbeat, like he’s waiting for me to stop him. But I don’t. I can’t. No words will fix this right now.
Then, he’s gone.
And for the first time, I feel truly, completely, utterly alone.