35

LIAM ENJOYED LIVING with Ciara. He loved coming back home to see what she had done or whether she had bought anything new. He found his habit of checking on Ciara every morning he left for work oddly soothing. She was usually asleep—sometimes even on the weekends, when he went out to get breakfast for them.

The flat was usually filled with laughter or chatter, and Liam found himself enjoying the simple things with Ciara. Even watching television, even though they didn’t always agree on what to watch. The small, everyday events became meaningful.

But it was too soon for it to be anything more than two friends living together. Liam wasn’t ready for a new relationship—not even a rekindled one.

Besides, he wanted to make it right this time. He wanted to remember every bit of it all the way to the tiny, silly details.

***

IT WAS THE NIGHT BEFORE the party. An October Friday night.

Liam had hoped to spend time with Ciara and watch a movie with her, but she wasn’t home. He hadn’t seen her since the morning when he had left for work. Even then, she had been fast asleep.

Jenna and Ciara had decorated the day before, and Jenna and Mary had promised to do the baking. So everything was prepared.

But Liam was worried about Ciara. She hadn’t even told him where she was, but had texted him, saying she was busy and would be home late. Even though no one had worked on the witch hunter case recently, the old members could still be in danger.

Liam hadn’t heard from Ciara in hours, and it was nearing midnight.

In the midst of his worrying, he also wondered if Ciara could be with a guy. But he had no right to be jealous, because they weren’t dating. They just lived together.

Liam hadn’t looked for a flat as much as he should have. Ciara hadn’t said anything, and Liam kept thinking perhaps she liked having him around. And that fuelled his hopes.

Liam stared at the television, unable to focus. He lost track of what show was on, falling deep into his thoughts.

Worry clouded his mind, and there was no way he could sleep before Ciara came home. So he kept staring at the television.

At two in the morning, the flat door opened.

Liam jumped up from the sofa and rushed to see Ciara.

She closed the flat door and turned around. “Liam?” Her voice was quiet and fragile, but surprised. Her hair was messy and dripping water. Mud covered her coat, and there was dirt on her jeans and boots.

Liam looked her over. “Are you okay?”

She opened her mouth, but then closed it, her expression turning into a frown.

His stomach twisted with worry. “I know I—”

“I’m fine.” Ciara shrugged off her coat, keeping it in her hands, and kicked off her boots. Her hands were shaking when she grabbed her boots, too. “I’m, uh, going to shower.”

She walked past him, and he wanted to reach out for her, but he forced his hands to stay at his sides. He had to clench them into fists to keep himself from reaching out.

“Good night, Liam.” She only glanced at him before walking to the bathroom.

Something was wrong. Liam knew it, and he wouldn’t let it slide.

He paced back and forth in the living room, waiting for Ciara. It took a while. She never took more than twenty minutes in the shower.

Except it took her forty minutes to step out of the bathroom. She only had a towel wrapped around her naked body.

Liam’s gaze fell on the fresh bruises covering her arms. He strode over to her, his eyes widened. “What happened?” He brushed against her still wet skin, tracing his fingers over the red marks.

Ciara’s eyes widened as if she had been caught doing something wrong. “It’s stupid.” She was still shaking, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

Liam gave her a long look. “You’re covered in bruises. Whatever that means, it isn’t stupid.” His voice remained soft but stern.

“Can you just let it slide this time?” Ciara wrapped her arms around herself and refused to meet his gaze.

“What?” Liam breathed out. “Someone hurt you, Ciara. What happened?” He raised his voice the tiniest bit, fuelled by anger. No one had the right to hurt her.

“Liam—”

Liam’s brows furrowed, and he stared into Ciara’s eyes. “What’s going on, Ciara? If this is some guy or—”

Ciara’s eyes widened. “What? No, it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it?” Liam asked, begging to know. “You’re acting oddly. You’re quiet. I can tell you’re trying to keep your composure, but you’re slipping. And you’re covered in bruises.”

“I didn’t stop when the group stopped,” Ciara whispered unsteadily.

“Ciara,” Liam choked out her name.

She stared at the floor, still hugging herself. Her shoulders were hunched, and she was shaking. She looked nothing like the confident young woman she usually was.

Liam’s mouth tightened. “W-what happened?”

“I’ve been tracking them for a while now with the help of some old colleagues.” Her voice was weak, but it was the only sound in the entire flat, so Liam heard her fine. “I can’t stop. After everything they’ve taken from me, I can’t stop.” Her face was pale, and her voice was shaky.

“You’ve been going after them alone?” Liam’s stomach twisted with worry. He didn’t want to spare one thought to Ciara fighting against those monsters on her own.

“Not until today.” Her voice was hollow—empty of feeling.

“What happened today?”

Ciara’s eyes glistened with tears, and her bottom lip quivered. “T-they killed a child,” she choked, struggling to get the words out.

Liam froze, his eyes widened. He had never seen witch hunters kill a child, even though he knew how cruel they were. They killed for attention—for media coverage to get their message across.

His heart broke, seeing Ciara in that state. He wanted to comfort her, but he wasn’t sure how. He had no words. So he wrapped his arms around her.

Her tears wet his shirt, and quiet sobs followed. She was struggling to steady her breaths. She had been through so much. She had lost too much.

Liam wanted to make it better. He couldn’t even comprehend what she had witnessed. Even if she was tough, it was going to haunt her for a while.

It took a moment for Ciara to calm down. Even then, the tears cascaded down her face. Liam let her cry for as long as she needed to and then led her to her room.

They didn’t say a word. They didn’t have to, not even when Ciara changed. Liam turned around, giving her privacy. He didn’t turn back around until Ciara touched his arm.

Their eyes met.

“Stay.” Her voice was fragile, and her eyes were red from crying.

Liam took her hand in his, squeezing it lightly. “Okay.”

They lay down on the bed under the duvet. Ciara avoided Liam’s eyes, but she didn’t turn her back on him. She still tried to fight the tears. Longing to comfort her, Liam snaked his arms around her and pulled her closer.

It was comfortable, even though it had been years since they had shared a bed.

Soothing.

***

“YOUR MOTHER WILL FREAK out,” Ciara hissed when Liam pulled her into his room.

Liam chuckled, making sure no one heard. “Oh, please. Not that long ago she talked to you and Henry about protection.”

Ciara’s cheeks heated, and she bit her lip. “She told us not to share a bed. I don’t—”

“We’re old enough to share a bed. I live abroad most of the time, and I’m allowed to share a bed with my girlfriend when I finally can,” Liam said, determined, caressing his girlfriend’s face.

“You’re impossible.”

Liam grinned at her. “I know, but you love it.”

Ciara smiled.

Liam pulled her to his bed—his childhood home bed. He still used his old room when he visited England.

“This is nice,” Ciara murmured, resting her head on Liam’s chest. His arms wrapped around her, and the heat of his body warmed her skin.

“Agreed,” he said with a content smile.

“I missed you.” And she had. But no amount of distance would be enough to drive them apart. They were made for one another. They challenged one another when there was need for it, and then supported each other when it was rough. Their future plans were clear as daylight, and they couldn’t wait for Ciara to graduate. He was her home, and she was his.

“I missed you, too.”