Chapter b108 /b

    I hear Liam suck in a sharp breath. “No, maybe not. I think I would have fought then ran away. I would have frozen up halfway through and broke down somewhere only kinda safe. So I guess the problem is me.

    “I think I’m past the point of being afraid now. Now I’m just mad. Mad that things like this always happen to me and that each time I’m either too weak or too much of a coward to actually do something about it.”

    My chest tightens. I hug myself, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I keep thinking… if it was Tessa, what would she have done?” I shake my head. “She definitely wouldn’t have fought to get away. She would have fought to hurt him as much as he was trying to hurt her.

    Sometime’s

    –

    1

    no, most times I’m so fucking jealous of her.”

    finally look at him, the expression on his face is pained. “I should have killed him.”

    Iugh bitterly. “No, I should have. That’s the real problem, Liam.” (2

    The air feels heavy between us. Raindrops tap softly against the balcony railing.

    “And you know what?” I say, my voice raw. “Every horrible thing that’s ever happened to

    me…”

    I look him straight in the eye, even though it hurts.

    “It’s either something I brought upon myself… or it somehow ties back to hockey.”

    My chest feels like it’s splitting open.

    ‘Hockey’s given me nothing but pain. Hurt. And more heartbreak than I know what to do

    with.”

    Liam steps closer, so close I can feel the heat of him even though the night air is freezing.

    His hand brushes against mine – slow, gentle like he’s asking for permission.

    I squeeze my eyes shut and pull away.

    It hurts.

    God, it hurts.

    –

    I keep my gaze on the ground, too scared to meet his eyes. “I know you said I didn’t have to give you an answer,” I say, voice barely above a whisper. “But… this is it, Liam. I’m walking away. I’m putting hockey behind me.”

    There’s a long pause.

    Then his voice, soft but rough around the edges: “And what does that mean for me?”

    I open my eyes, heart hammering so loud it’s all I can hear.

    I’m putting this behind too,” I say, forcing the words out before I can change my mind. “Whatever you think you feel for me whether it’s real or not it doesn’t matter.”

    –

    –

    Liam’s jaw tightens. His hands curl into fists at his sides. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

    “It means we stick to the contract. Nothing more.” For a second, he just stares at me like

    I’ve ripped something out of him.

    And I see it

    –

    the pain in his eyes so raw, so real.

    —

    And it kills me because I don’t understand why.

    Why he’d pretend to care so much about someone like me.

    “But, Emilia,” he says, stepping even closer, “have you ever thought… maybe it’s not your fault? Maybe the people who hurt you are the ones to me? Maybe you’re just a victim of their cruelty-”

    “Yet still a victim!” I scream, cutting him off.

    The word feels ugly in my mouth.

    Heavy, Shameful.

    Liam’s eyes ze, “And there’s nothing wrong with that!” he fires back. “There’s no shame in surviving, Emilia!”

    I huff, my chest rising. “You don’t understand anything.”

    The air between us crackles, full of anger and something else

    something deeper.

    He takes a shaking breath, fighting for control. ‘I’ll respect your decision. I swear I will.”

    His voice drops to a raw whisper. But if you think for a second that your guilt… your

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    fear… your walls… are going to stop me from caring about you, then you don’t know me at all.”

    My heart pounds so hard it hurts.

    I’ll chase you, Emilia Janice Carter,” he says, like a promise. “I’ll chase you – patiently,

    –

    endlessly until every scar you have remembers what it’s like to feel safe again. Until every broken memory you carry… is rewritten with nothing but me.”

    He disappears for a moment, leaving me cold and aching.

    Then he’s back, draping a soft throw nket around my shoulders like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

    His hands linger for a second longer than they should, warm against the fabric. “You shouldn’t have to be cold,” he says quietly, “I’ll draw you a bath.” He looks at me for a moment, then pinches my cheek. His lips pull into a breathtaking smile. “Here, your phone’s been going off nonstop. Thought you might want to check that.”

    He slips my phone into my hand, then leaves, closing the sliding doors quietly behind him.

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