Chapter 20
Aria’s POV
Despite his promise, the car ride remained silent.
We pulled up to my driveway without having said anything further. Irritation sparked in me.
“Liam, you brought me here to talk about our divorce papers. Get on with it.” My tone was firm. He just reached over and popped the door open.
“After you.” he said.
The car idled quietly at the curb as I stepped out onto the sidewalk. The cool evening air brushed against my skin, but the slight chill wasn’t what made me pause. Just as I shut the car door, I heard Liam’s voice—low, almost too casual.
“Can you stop bringing up the divorce papers? I’m allergic to the word ‘divorce.’”
I froze, my hand still resting on the car’s frame. Was that... a joke? I turned back, confused. Liam wasn’t looking at me.
His eyes were closed, head leaning back against the seat, his face blank as though he hadn’t said anything at all.
I opened my mouth to reply, but I was at a loss for words. Shaking my head, I turned and walked toward the building, my footsteps the only sound cutting through the quiet street.
Glancing over my shoulder once more, I saw his car still idling at the curb, engine humming softly. But Liam didn’t open his eyes.
A part of me wondered if I’d imagined it.
The next morning, I arrived at the F1 club, greeted by an unexpected burst of energy.
The team members were buzzing with excitement, their usual serious expressions replaced by grins and animated conversations.
I could feel the shift in atmosphere even before anyone said a word.
“Hey, Aria!” Jackson called out, striding over with an exaggerated grin. “Good news. The club's issues have been resolved.”
“Really?” I raised an eyebrow, surprised. The problems we’d been dealing with had seemed impossible to fix.
Jackson nodded, leaning in like he was about to share a secret.
“Apparently, it was Liam who handled it. Had a little chat with my manager and coach. Let’s just say… they’re much more agreeable now.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “Liam?”
Jackson’s grin widened. “Yup. He put in a good word for you, too.” His eyes glinted with mischief. “Looks like you owe me another date, huh?”
I laughed despite myself, shaking my head. “Is that so?”
Before Jackson could reply, a murmur swept through the group, pulling our attention toward the entrance of the track. Someone called out, “The Boss is coming!”
Everyone perked up, their chatter now filled with anticipation. Jackson was practically bouncing with excitement. “A lot of times, Liam comes to race when he’s in a bad mood. Word is, he’s racing today.”
I followed Jackson to the track, intrigued by the excitement in the air. The sound of engines revving filled the space as cars lined up, the drivers ready for the thrill of competition.
Jackson turned to me, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.
“I’m gonna race him, Aria! You’ve gotta see this.”
Liam stepped out onto the track in his racing gear, looking confident as ever. The crowd murmured in approval, and Jackson’s grin faltered slightly.
“Looks like he’s serious today,” he muttered under his breath, cringing.
The race started with a deafening roar as the cars shot off the starting line.
I watched as Jackson and Liam battled it out on the track, the speed and precision of their driving making it clear this wasn’t just for fun.
Tension hung in the air as the laps flew by, the two drivers neck and neck.
When it was over, Jackson climbed out of his car, looking more exhausted than triumphant. His usual cocky grin was nowhere to be seen. Liam, on the other hand, strode over, his eyes sharp.
“What happened out there, Jackson?” Liam’s voice was cutting, slicing through the post-race chatter. “Your performance has dropped. You’re better than this.”
Jackson opened his mouth to respond, but I stepped in. “He’s been under a lot of pressure lately,” I began, trying to offer some context.
Liam cut me off with a cold tone. “Don’t make excuses for him.”
I bit back my irritation, surprised by how quickly he shut me down.
Before I could reply, Jackson’s manager stepped forward, a smirk on his lips as he seized the opportunity.
“It’s not just the pressure. Maybe the problem isn’t Jackson at all. Maybe it’s Aria. She lacks the necessary skills, and it’s obvious why some of the drivers are supporting her.”
He let the insinuation hang in the air, his smirk widening. I could feel the heat rise in my chest, but I wasn’t about to let his comment get to me.
I shot him a cold smile.
“If that were the case, wouldn’t I just go after Liam directly? Too bad I’m not interested.”
My words cut through the tension, and the smirk quickly vanished from the manager’s face.
Jackson stifled a laugh, but Liam remained silent, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity I couldn’t read.
Later that evening, I had just started winding down for the night when my phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, I frowned—Liam. I hesitated for a moment before answering.
His voice was different this time. Slurred, rambling, clearly drunk. Briefly, I thought I heard him say my name and something that sounded suspiciously like “Please,” but that was too hard to believe.
In the background, I could hear his assistant’s frantic voice.
“Aria, please,” the assistant begged. “Can you come help him? He won’t listen to anyone else, and… well, it’s best if Sophia doesn’t find out.”
I chose to ignore his strange comment.
I hesitated again, unsure if I wanted to get involved.
Before I could make a decision, Joe tugged at my sleeve, having overheard the conversation. His wide, pleading eyes made my stomach sink.
“Mom, you have to help him. Uncle Liam needs you.”
With a sigh, I relented. “Just this once,” I said firmly.
When I arrived at the bar, I was greeted with surprised looks from Liam’s group. Apparently, a few of them had placed bets on whether or not I’d actually show up.
From their grins, it was clear no one had expected me to come—no one except Liam.
I tried not to dwell on the way that made me feel.
Liam was sitting at the far end of the bar, his usual composed appearance a mess.
His eyes were glazed over from the alcohol, but the moment he saw me, his face lit up. I almost wanted to giggle at him.
He stumbled toward me, nearly tripping over his own feet, before throwing his arms around me in a clumsy hug. “You seem different,” he slurred, his voice muffled against my shoulder.
I stood there, stiff as a board, unsure of how to react. I could feel the eyes of everyone in the bar on us, watching with curiosity, amusement, and judgment. Liam didn’t seem to care.
“Come on,” I said softly, prying him off of me. “Let’s get you home.”
I reached to grab him by the hand but thought better of it. Instead, I cuffed my hand around his wrist and pulled him towards the door.
He followed, surprisingly pliant.
