Chapter 36

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"Did you have fun tonight? You're being quiet." inquired Liam when we were standing in my doorway, half inside my room and half outside in the hallway.

It's been a confusing night and you don't want to hear what I have to tell you.

"I did." Initially, at least. "I'm just exhausted and my feet are figuratively murdering me."

Liam had loosened his tie and unbuttoned his suit jacket. It was only midnight, but I was beat, and he looked like he was, too. His blinking became longer and more sluggish.

"Okay."

We stood like that for a long moment. I wasn't wearing my watch or I could have heard the hand tick away across the face. There was not a sound in the hall. Everybody must have either been in bed, at the library, or still at an afterparty. My head was spinning from fatigue and the words spoken tonight. Closing my eyes, I let my head drop back against the doorframe and placed my booted feet against the foot of the other side of the frame.

I had to end this thing with Liam, there was no way around it. I wished I had prepared for this better, what to say, how to let him down gently. I had known it was coming. Why hadn't I planned it out like I did everything else? Right when I had mustered the courage to open my mouth, although I didn't know precisely what I would say yet, Liam asked:

"Can I come in?"

I hesitated for a moment. My immediate response was to let him in one more time, because pleasing people was what I did, but it was also what had gotten me into this pickle, back when Liam had asked me out on our first date, and then every time after that when I had wanted to say no and hadn't.

"Not tonight," I said in a low voice and looked directly at him. Not tonight, and not any night after that.

"I saw you talking to John earlier." Yikes. "So is this it? Are we done?"

I took a couple of breaths, rearranging the thoughts dashing through my mind. My pulse raced and blood rushed in my ears. This wasn't how I had imagined it would go. I hadn't scripted anything and now I would have to improvise.

"What do you want me to say?"

"What do I want you to say?" he repeated unsympathetically. "How about how you feel and what you're thinking for a change? Do you want me to start? I'm not okay. I feel insecure and I feel jealous, constantly, and I feel like every move I make is measured up against this other, larger-than-life person. I don't like myself like this. So can you please be honest with me, even if you think I don't want to hear it?"

How dare he imply I was sabotaging the relationship when all I've been doing is trying to make it work? Besides, the only person who sees John as larger than life is Liam.

My hands trembled as I spoke. "Fine. The truth is: I'm not happy with you. I don't get butterflies in my stomach when you're around. And I'm sorry. I tried, Liam. God knows I tried. What else could I have done? But it's not right for me.

"I was mad at myself that I wasn't better for you. It's not okay that I wasn't honest with you from the beginning. But it is okay that I'm not perfect, and it's okay to not like somebody back. I tried to end things with you, but you pulled me back in, and I let you because I thought I needed you to prove... something. I don't even know what. But it was putting so much pressure on me that I couldn't admit the relationship wasn't working."

If I could improv like this, why the hell had it taken me so long to say all this?

Liam was quiet and so was I. His face reflected pain, but I couldn't tell if he was angry. I hoped he'd be okay. We had been good friends once and would never be again, but I hoped he would heal soon.

Liam sighed and straightened his back, then finally looked at me. I followed suit. His body language was the same as if he was scrambling to get up after having received a blow to the stomach.

"Well, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been expecting a breakup, but I had no idea this was how you felt. Thanks for your late honesty, I guess. You really pulled some garbage moves on me here. Think about that sometime."

A curt nod was my response. I have and I will.

"Good night, Grace. And don't screw with him like you did with me."

And with that he left. For good.

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