“You really shouldn’t,” I say. “Clearly, I’ve got issues!”
“That’s just the way I like you,” he says, and we both laugh awkwardly. “Here’s the thing—the man you marry should find your issues endearing. The guy you spend your life with needs to understand you—needs to know you don’t come with a manual, but you’re pretty damn easy to figure out if he knows how to get inside your mind.” He raises his eyebrows. “He needs to accept that you can and will piss him off like there’s no tomorrow—especially when you are trying to make everything around you so damn perfect. But ironically, he should also realize that you have an incredible ability to make him feel like his imperfections are the best part of him.” He looks away for a moment and I don’t speak. I can’t speak—my throat is thick with tears as I absorb his words. He grabs my hands and pulls my face close to his. “Does Max get you? Does he know not to try to stop you when you are obsessing over taking the perfect photo or that you always think the book is better than the movie? Even The Godfather?” Liam shakes his head. “Does he know that short of your boss or your mother hiring a plane to pull one of those banners that says KATE IS FUCKING AWESOME, you will never be satisfied with what their opinion of you is? Does he know you might cry like a blubbering baby over something seemingly innocuous—like the series finale of How I Met Your Mother—and he should just let you? Does he know you hate running and only do it to impress him? Does he know how insanely smart you are? How beautiful? Does he even know the real you?”
I suck in a deep breath and release it slowly, processing his words, realizing they represent so much more than friendship. He really loves me. In a way I never realized was possible.
“I don’t know—I thought so, I think so . . .” I stammer.
“Because if he doesn’t, then that’s not true love. And you will both be settling.”
“And you are the expert because?” I ask, but I already know what he’s going to say.
“Because that’s how I feel about you—how you make me feel.”
I cross my arms over my chest, trying to warm myself from the chill running through me as I try to make sense of his confession. It was true, he knew me in a way that Max never had, but I wasn’t convinced that was reason enough to throw everything with Max away, not after all I’d done to repair our relationship. “I’ve come this far with Max. I need to see what happens with him,” I say, rubbing my hand along his arm to take the sting off my words.
He flinches slightly, but finally nods. “Can’t knock a man for trying, right?” He half laughs. “I guess you’ve dragged me to so many of those rom-coms that I got caught up. Who was I to think I could give you some big speech and you’d fall into my arms and say you felt the same way?”
“Liam.” I hold my hand out to him, but he doesn’t take it.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to feel sorry for me. I love you, but I want you to be happy.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, afraid the tears that are brimming behind them will spill over if I don’t, not wanting to think about what might or might not make me happy.
“But I meant what I said earlier—please don’t tell me any of this if you go back, especially not this conversation.” He looks down. “Kicked to the curb twice in the same night,” he says under his breath. “I just want to live my life like there’s no opportunity for second chances.”
“Okay,” I say, reaching for him again. This time he accepts me into his arms. I hug him tightly, not wanting to let go. He grips me hard, like he might not see me again, and I resist the urge to stay, knowing I need to get back to Max. “I have to go.”
“Okay,” he says, and sinks back down in his seat, picking up the bottle of tequila again.
“I’m sorry,” I say again, not sure if I’m apologizing for leaving or for not loving him back the way he wants me to.
“It’s okay—it’s all going to disappear soon anyway, right? None of it will matter.”
“It’s for the best. For everyone.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Kate,” I hear him say to my back as I walk away, into the lights of the party, gripping Max’s hand firmly when I find him, hoping our bond is just as strong.
? ? ?
“You want to talk about what happened tonight?” Max says as I crawl into bed later, and for a second I think he means Liam, but then I realize he’s talking about Courtney. I’d been quiet on the way home, my mind spinning like a tornado with the memory of Liam’s words and the visual of Max’s face when he saw Courtney, whipping around and around. I lay my head on the pillow, not wanting to talk, especially because it was all going to be pointless once I had made my wish.
“We just can’t seem to escape her,” Max says, and curves his body around mine, laying his arm over my waist and pulling me closer.
“No, we sure can’t,” I say softly.