Chapter 78
“Have you ever loved someone so much you’d die for them?” I ask quietly. “Or at least… thought about it?”
Liam doesn’t say anything, but I feel the way his body tenses.
I let out a small laugh, sad and dry. “You probably haven’t. You don’t really do the whole love thing, right? Feelings, relationships… they’re all too messy.”
He still says nothing. Just listens.
“I would’ve died for Zane. Once.” My voice drops. “I just never thought my brother would die for him instead.”
Silence again. Only the soft sound of water moving as I swirl my fingers through the bubbles.
“Remember when I said that article wasn’t real? That it was all made up?” I let out a breath. “Yeah, I lied. I am a Vanderbilt. The Vanderbilt. Billionaire heiress who ran away from her life because she couldn’t face the mess she made.”
I pause, biting down on my bottom lip. My throat feels tight. “My family hated Zane. He was everything they despised – poor, wild, reckless. But I loved him. God, I loved him.”
—
I glance at Liam, even though he’s still facing the wall, letting me talk. “Luther was the only one who didn’t make me feel stupid for it. He was… perfect. Kind. Smart. Way too good- looking for his own good.” I chuckle, but it comes out shaky. “He was an artist. A sculptor. Ha, he was crazy talented, too. I
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always said I’d open an art gallery just for him- put his work on display, let the world see him the way I did.”
Liam finally speaks. “What happened?”
My smile fades.
“Zane invited me to a party,” I whisper. “Some stupid frat thing. I told my parents I was staying at a friend’s, and I begged Luther to cover for me. Just for an hour.”
I blink hard. “But Zane never showed. And things at the party went bad – fast. Someone tried to spike my drink. Another guy tried to put his hands on me.” My hands shake. “I panicked. I called Luther. And just like always… he came for me.”
My voice cracks. “On the way, a truck ran a red light. Hit his car. He didn’t make it.”
A tear slips down my cheek. “What was I supposed to do? I was just seventeen. I couldn’t handle losing my brother and my family… all for a guy who treated me like gum stuck to the bottom of his sneakers.” I sniff, shaking my head. “So I ran to New York with Zane. It was easier than facing everything I’d destroyed.”
Liam’s quiet for a long time. Too long.
And when he finally stands and walks out of the bathroom, something in my chest twists.
No. No, no, no.
He said he wouldn’t leave. He promised.
My heart’s racing now. I stand up from the tub without even
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thinking, water dripping down my skin.
But then – he’s back.
Liam walks in holding two towels, and when he sees me standing there, completely bare, his eyes widen just for a second. Then he quickly looks away and walks over like it’s no big deal.
“I just went to get these,” he says gently. “I told you I wasn’t going anywhere, didn’t I?”
He wraps the big towel around me with so much care, like I’m something breakable. Then, once I’m out of the tub, he uses the smaller towel to start drying my hair, slow and soft.
I swallow hard, my voice small. “You don’t want to judge me? Not even a little?”
Liam meets my eyes, and the way he smiles – it actually hurts. Like he understands everything.
“Never, love,” he says gently. “You didn’t kill your brother. You called him because you loved him. And he came because he loved you. That’s not a sin. That’s love.”
His fingers keep moving through my hair, soft and sure, like he wants to ease the ache from my bones.
“Now hush,” he murmurs, brushing a stray curl from my cheek. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”
He leads me to sit at the edge of the bed and peels the towel from my head. My hair’s damp, messy, but he doesn’t flinch. He disappears into the bathroom and returns with a brush, then
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kneels behind me again, gently pulling through each tangle.
“You don’t have to do that,” I say, cheeks heating.
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“I want to,” he murmurs, so quietly I barely catch it. “Let me.”
So I let him.
Every pull of the brush is patient, every stroke peeling back a layer of panic I didn’t know I was still wearing. I close my eyes. For the first time in a long time, I feel held. Seen.
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