My stomach clenches. “God. Liam.” I rub his hand, trying to convey my sympathy.
He shakes his head. “When I saw Jamie there . . . I couldn’t move. I knew it was too unstable to stay, but I couldn’t leave. Couldn’t take my eyes off him. One second he was my brother. My hero. The next, he was . . . nothing. Just a mess of bone and blood whose face looked nothing like Jamie’s. When Dad found me, I was sobbing his name over and over again. It took two firemen to drag me away.”
He takes a deep breath, then takes a sip of his drink. I keep rubbing his hand and try to let him know he can stop whenever he wants.
“Mom and Dad were devastated. I mean, there’s no way to get over losing a child, you know? Especially when the one left behind looks exactly like the one you’ve lost. For me, it was even worse. Jamie and I were inseparable from the moment we were born. Mom used to call us the ‘cling twins.’ Wherever we went, we were a package deal. It was always Liam and Jamie. Jamie and Liam. The Quinn boys. I thought we’d be that way forever, even when we were married and had kids. Then, suddenly, it was just me.” He looks over at me. “Afterward, people would forget, and when I’d show up places they’d say, ‘Hey, it’s Liam and . . . ’ then trail off before saying his name. And that summed up how I felt when he died. I was incomplete. An unfinished sentence.”
He looks back down at the table, and he’s gripping his glass so tightly, his knuckles are white.
“I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine what that must be like.”
“After the accident, Mom and Dad were buried under lawsuits. Liability, civil, negligence. The easy road would have been to declare bankruptcy and make it all go away, but Dad would never agree to that. He felt responsible. He negotiated settlements. Sold the business he’d built for forty years, all the equipment, our family home. Paid every cent he could to the families of the victims who were still waiting on checks from the insurance companies. That’s one of the main reasons I went to Hollywood. I needed to help them out. All the fees from my first two movies went to paying off their debts.”
“Oh, Liam—” I grip his hand, and I can feel his pulse pounding through his fingers, fast and unsteady. I hate that he had to carry around the burden of his brother’s death as well as his parents’ financial difficulties for so long.
He lets out a shaky sigh and gestures to the iPad. “And every time something like this happens, my first thought is to say screw it, and go live in a cabin in the woods. But then I get a flash of Jamie’s face, and it makes me stop, because I feel like I need to be someone, you know? Like my future has to be doubly bright, because I have to make up for him not having one.” I see a tear fall onto his cheek as he whispers, “I miss him so fucking much, Liss. Every day.”
I reach over and cup his face so I can wipe the tear away with my thumb. “I’m sure if he were here, he’d tell you how proud he is of you. Every day. You’re an amazing man, Liam. Your brother knew that.”
He closes his eyes and leans into my hand, and I can see he’s fighting to keep his breathing steady. I have no idea what it’s like to lose a brother, but the mere thought of living in a world without Ethan makes me break into a cold sweat. I can’t even imagine the pain Liam must feel without his twin.
“Ever since Jamie passed,” he says as he takes my hand away from his face and holds it with both of his, “I feel like part of me is missing. Like I’m always lonely, no matter how many people are with me. The only time I don’t feel like that is when I’m with you.” He looks into my eyes. “Not Angel. You.”
I stare at him for a few seconds as a storm of confusion brews inside me. What does that even mean? I search his eyes, but don’t come away with any answers. Right now, he looks just as confused as I feel.
I pull my hand back and look down at the small amount of wine still left in my glass. “So then, why didn’t you choose me?”
I can’t look at his face, so I watch his hands as they clench around his glass. He’s quiet for a long time, and I have a feeling he’s trying to find a way to gently tell me the truth.
“Elissa, look at me.” When I meet his gaze, he leans forward. “I hate that my actions made you feel second best. You’re not. You never could be. Circumstances just weren’t on our side, that’s all.” He looks down and swirls the liquid in his glass. “When I left that message saying I loved you, I meant it. You have to believe that.”