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LIAM
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WHEN MY FORMER PAIN-in-the-ass roommate Joel stopped me outside the Basil Center, I was prepared to tell him to fuck off and continue my search for Mae—more than ready to end ten long years of separation. However, his random apology for the crazy antics he forced me to live with in college ended up working in my favor because I didn’t have to search at all. Mae appeared on her own, and now my mission for this weekend can begin.
Though finding her tear-stricken on the ground, scraped up from a tumble, isn’t exactly how I imagined our first meeting after a decade.
Mae waits expectantly, her hand held out for her errant shoe, which I reluctantly surrender. “I suppose I should be glad the shoe’s to blame and not another fainting spell.”
Will she remember me?
“Fainting spell...?” A beat. Another. Then recognition replaces the puzzled expression wrinkling her forehead. “Oh my God! It’s you! The guy from gym. Liam, right?”
Helping her to her feet, I nod and offer an abbreviated bow—apparently, she’s brought back my hidden white knight. “Liam Kennedy, and you’re Mae Morrison.”
“Wow, good memory. But I guess it was probably a dramatic experience for you.”
“I’ll admit it was life-changing.” Discovering I am my father’s son. Learning I share our family’s legacy of addiction. “But not in a bad way. I wanted to talk to you more afterward, but a problem with my dad called me home soon after.” Not to mention, I wasn’t sure I should talk to Mae given my family history. “I finished that semester online and missed graduation.”
Sympathy deepens her irises to ocean blue, a fathomless depth I can easily drown in. “I’m sorry about your dad. Is he okay now?”
Depends on your definition of okay. But she doesn’t need to be burdened with my baggage yet. This weekend’s about making her mine through any means necessary—except for pity. “Yeah, he’s fine. But enough about him. I came to see you.”
“Me? Why?”
Because you’re an obsession I’ve held at bay for a decade.
Because I’m finally done depriving myself.
I’ve kept tabs on Mae through social media, but I’ve resisted engaging with her out of a misguided sense of protecting her. Addiction is a powerful thing. I’ve seen its effects on the men in my family, witnessed how it can ruin a man’s life and those around him.
It took a lecture from my little sister Nicole to give me the permission I needed to give in. To come out this weekend and find Mae. To secure my girl for a lifetime.
“Because you’ve haunted me for a decade. You’re the girl I dream about at night. The woman I picture in my future. It’s you, Mae, always has been. I’m just sorry it’s taken me this long to do anything about it.”
Fuck, did you have to come on so strong so quickly?
Like a deer in headlights, she stares, stunned by my admission. “What...? Why are you doing this? Because it feels like a joke. Like everyone’s waiting for the punchline, so they can come out and laugh.” She searches the lobby as if an audience will suddenly appear to giggle at her discomfiture.
“It’s not a joke. I’m dead serious.” I wrack my brain for a way to salvage this situation I’ve totally fucked-up. So much for the practiced speech I had prepared. “How about we take a walk, and I can explain? Lights were on at the library. We can go there, since I know how much you love books.”
“You do?”
Shit. Scratching uncomfortably at the back of my neck, I admit, “I stalk your social media, so yeah, I know. And I promise I’m not trying to sound like an absolute creep, you just make me nervous. I’m spilling everything out in a messy jumble, despite my good intentions.”
Mae’s expression softens a little, and I pray my honesty wins out over any misgivings she may have because of my delivery. “It’s strange being on the other side of making someone nervous. Usually, that’s my role.” She glances back towards the doors leading into the banquet hall, a slight grimace forming before she motions in the general direction of the library. “But the library sounds nice, and I was trying to find a place to read until dinner ended.”
Together, we leave the Basil Center, and I keep a respectable distance between us, careful to ensure her comfort. “I’m surprised you ducked out so early. Did something happen?”
“This guy kept pushing me to speak. Complained that I was too quiet,” she mutters. “But I didn’t have anything to say. Hardly ever do these days because people tend to ignore me or disagree to the extreme.”
“Seriously?”
Who the hell treats her so badly? Everything she shares on social media—which, granted, isn’t a lot—depicts a woman content with her life. Though, now that I think about it, her posts rarely feature very many people. They center around books or her cat.
Guess you were too glad never seeing her posed with a man to notice much else.
“Yeah, it's better if I keep my mouth shut.” Our brief journey to the library ends as I open the unlocked door for her, and we enter the dim building. Her steps stall for a moment, uncertainty tightening her body. “Are you sure we’re allowed in here? It’s pretty dark.”
“We paid tens of thousands of dollars to attend Trinity; I think we’ve earned the right to hang out in the library after-hours. Besides, what are they gonna do, expel us?”
Unlikely. The campus is deserted except for the dinner. I doubt there’s security roaming around for stray guests. “Now, tell me why you believe it’s better to stay quiet. Because I wholly disagree.”
“Well, you don’t really know me,” she points out, ambling down an aisle of biographies. “I'm not good with people. They find me annoying or mean, so I just don't bother anymore because it's for the best. Why do you think I love reading so much? It's a much better world, where the heroine finds love and friendship whether she's quiet or loud about her opinions.”
“But you're neither of those things—annoying or mean. And on the off chance you were, we all say shitty things sometimes. That doesn't mean we should be silenced for it.” As if I didn’t already regret missing the last ten years with Mae, this revelation really solidified my mistake. If she were mine already, she’d never worry about speaking her mind. I’d be right beside her, helping to amplify her voice.
“You don't know me,” she repeats. “Not really. Despite your internet stalking.” A half-hearted grin shines from the shadows. “This is the unfiltered version of me, but only because I’m too emotionally depleted to care.” She pulls out a hardback, flips through a few pages, then replaces it on the shelf to grab another one. “Do you remember Angie, Kayla, and Naomi?”
“No, not really. I kept to myself mostly. My interactions with people were mostly professors and my roommate Joel.”
“Well, we used to be best friends, until I mentioned misgivings about Angie’s boyfriend after she explicitly asked me to voice them.” A loud sigh accompanies the memory, and I debate whether it’s too soon to offer a hug of comfort before she continues, “Angie ignored me afterward while badmouthing me to our mutual friends behind my back. The kicker was that Kayla listed the same concerns over the boyfriend, yet they're still friends. She even told me once that I just don’t talk to people well when I asked how it's possible for her and Angie to remain close. So, I stopped.”
“That's one example of shitty friends. Tell them to go to hell and find people who will appreciate you.”
Like me.
Maybe my whole knight in shining armor schtick wasn’t so far-fetched after all, because Mae needs a champion, someone in her corner. The desolate tone in her voice, the hunch of her shoulders, I hate seeing her brought so low by a string of terrible people who were supposed to be her friends.
Mae deserves better.
And I’m going to be the man to give it to her.