“That sounds amazing.”
“It is. I loved it with my family, and I loved revisiting those memories with the guys. I…” His voice faded, and he dropped his gaze to the table. When he met my eyes again, it was with a grimace. “I’m sorry. I’m going on and on about my happy childhood memories, and you’re waiting to tell me the exact opposite.”
“No way. Never apologize for the good you’ve had. That’s what made you the person you are. I’m sure not everyone on your team had happy family vacations to revisit, and it’s a gift that you shared yours with them. You couldn’t help what happened before or after you were with them, but I have no doubt that when you were there, not only did you do everything in your power to keep them safe, you also used your positivity to lift them up.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do, because that’s how you make me feel.”
“Firefly…”
“I’m serious. Can you imagine if everyone was screwed up? Us screwed up people need people like you who can show us how it’s supposed to be. Never feel bad for that.”
He took my hands in his big, warm ones and squeezed gently. “Thank you, Firefly.”
I swallowed. Despite my intentions, things were getting deep. “Want to play again?” I asked to break the tension.
Liam agreed, and near the end of an intense game, he dropped his red piece on top of mine. I could block his win by going next to it, then he’d block my horizontal trio, and then I’d probably win with the diagonal setup he seemed to have no idea about. Or…I could pretend not to see it and get his first question over with. Was winning worth the anxiety churning in my gut?
I dropped my piece on top of his. He put his in the next column over for the win.
“I won,” he said, watching me carefully. I had no doubt that he knew I gave it to him, and also no doubt that he was going to make the most of his question.
I nodded. Waited. Panicked.It’ll be okay.Liam won’t think it was my fault—well, probably not.Although, maybe it wouldn’t matter anyway. It was so impossible to breathe past the giant lump in my throat, I might die before I had to tell him.
“Was it your neighbor?” he asked softly, jumping right in.
I nodded.
“One person or more?”
“One,” I croaked out.
“Breathe, Firefly. You’re doing good.”
I nodded and sucked in a shaky breath. Then another.
“What was his name?”
“Brian.”
His fists clenched, like now that he had a name, he had a person to fight. “How old is Brian?”
“Six years older than me.”
He reached across the table and put his hand over mine. “How old were you?”
“It started a little before I turned seven. That’s the first I can remember at least.” I knew that because on my seventh birthday I had a Jasmine cake and I wished for a genie to make Brian go away, but when I blew out my candles and opened my eyes, he was still sitting next to me.
Liam’s hand tightened almost painfully on mine, then quickly gentled again. His jaw was clenched, a muscle in his cheek ticking, but his eyes were soft and sad.
“It’s okay. It wasn’t that bad. He never raped me or anything like that. It was mostly just a lot of touching,” I assured him, rushing to get the ugly words out.
“The wordjusthas no place here, Firefly. I’m glad it wasn’t worse, but whatever it was, it wasn’tjustanything. There is no threshold for abuse that is acceptable.”
The words settled deep into a place inside me that had needed to hear them for so long, and suddenly, the pressure in my chest morphed from dread to a desperate need to let it all out. I wanted to tell him everything. If I told him...if heknew...knew me and what I was and wasn’t okay and why, maybe I’d be okay with more. With everything, maybe.
“I’m sorry. That was more than one question.”