“Avery, sit down or go home,” she said. “It’s trivia night, not drama club.”
For a second, Avery looked around, clearly expecting more support than she was getting. Some people glanced away while others met her eyes evenly. Time had moved on. A spark of hope filled me. Perhaps people had made up their own minds about me, about Liora.
That didn’t seem to fit whatever script she’d rehearsed in her head.
Her gaze landed back on me, then on my hand still at Liora’s back. I forced myself to take it away, fingers curling into a fist at my side.
“I knew it. Iknewyou fancied her,” she said quietly, almost to herself. Then louder, for the room, “You two deserve each other.”
With that, she spun on her heel and stalked back out, coat flaring behind her.
The door slammed.
Silence hovered for a beat, then someone coughed. Glasses clinked. The pub’s hum crept back in, tentative at first, then louder as people retreated into their own conversations, attention shifting back to pints and answer sheets.
“All right, the lot of you.” Graham raised his voice and the entirety of the pub swiveled to look at him. “If any of you think, for a minute, that this upstanding lad who has worked fairly and honestly in this community for years would cheat and lie, you’re welcome to leave my establishment. And while I haven’t known Liora as long as I’ve known Torin, I can tell you she’s a great employee and has a good heart. Don’t leave here tonight spinning such nonsense that it comes back my way again, understood?”
I breathed a sigh of relief as everyone cheered in response.
But I could still feel the aftershock.
Liora stood very still, eyes fixed on the floor.
“Hey,” I said softly. “You okay?”
“Fine,” she said, voice thin.
Lie.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know she was back.”
“Of course she’s back,” Liora murmured, more to herself than to me. “Why wouldn’t she be?” She took a breath, pasted on a brittle smile. “I’ve got tables. I should… I should work. Trivia, remember? People need drinks.”
“Liora—”
“Later,” she said, ducking away before I could stop her.
She moved through the crowd on autopilot, smile in place, tray steady. If you didn’t know her, you might’ve thought she was fine. Happy, even.
I knew better.
Trivia blurred. I couldn’t tell you a single question Graham asked. Apparently we came second by one point. Agnes blamed Graham. Graham blamed me.
Through it all, I kept an eye on Liora.
She moved faster than usual, like if she slowed down for even a second, the feelings would catch her. Her laugh was a decibel too high, her smile flashing on and off like a faulty fairy light. When last orders were called and the crowd started to thin, she disappeared into the back for a suspiciously long time.
I waited by the door, jacket on, keys in hand, until she finally emerged in her own coat, hair twisted up haphazardly, eyes rimmed a little red.
“I can walk,” she said before I could open my mouth.
“I know,” I said. “I’m still driving you.”
She hesitated, then sighed. “Fine. But I’m not in the mood for a post-game analysis.”
“Noted,” I said quietly, opening the truck door for her.
The drive home was thick with silence. The kind that had weight.