Chapter 42
Aria’s POV
I blink awake, groggy and sore all over. The sterile white of the hospital room comes into focus slowly, and I wince as a sharp sting ripples across my collarbones. The burns.
I lift my head, but even that small movement sends pain shooting through my body. Great. This is just fantastic.
I glance around the room, trying to get my bearings, when my eyes land on something—or rather, someone—that stops me cold. Liam.
He’s slumped in the guest chair in the corner, head tilted forward as he sleeps. His face… God, his face. He looks exhausted, like he hasn’t slept in days.
There are tear streaks on his cheeks. Liam, crying? I blink again, wondering if I’m still dreaming. I’ve never seen him like this—so raw, so vulnerable.
The sheets rustle as I shift, and Liam jerks awake instantly.
His eyes lock on me, wide with panic for a second before he’s on his feet, rushing to my bedside. He looks like he’s about to fall apart.
“Aria?” His voice cracks as he takes my hand, gripping it tight. Too tight. “You’re awake. Are you okay? How do you feel?”
“I’m... I’m okay, I think. Just sore,” I rasp out, my voice rough. My eyes drop to the bandages on my collarbone. “What happened?”
“You went back inside,” he says, his voice low and laced with frustration. “For some damn documents.” His grip on my hand tightens again. “You could’ve died, Aria.”
Right. The fire. I remember the heat, the panic. And the files—the ones I needed.
I had to go back for them. I needed those documents. But then, everything went black.
“For the documents,” I mutter, the words sounding distant to my own ears.
“For the damn documents,” Liam repeats, his voice edged with anger now. His jaw clenches, and I can see how furious he is beneath all that worry.
“You put yourself in danger for paperwork, Aria.”
“We needed them,” I say, trying to explain, but the words sound weak, even to me.
“You needed to stay alive,” Liam snaps, his voice rising in frustration. “Do you understand how reckless that was? You—”
He stops himself, taking a deep breath, then lets go of my hand and runs a hand through his hair. “You could’ve been killed.”
“I’m fine,” I insist, though the throbbing pain in my body begs to differ. “I’m here, right?”
Liam’s eyes flash with something I can’t quite name—fear, anger, relief all mixed together.
He stares at me for a long moment before letting out a sharp breath, the tension in his body finally breaking.
“I thought I lost you,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
The vulnerability in his tone catches me off guard. Liam never shows this side of himself—not to me, not to anyone. He’s always the strong, composed one, the one who has everything under control.
But now, standing beside my hospital bed, he looks… scared.
He takes a step closer and sits on the edge of the bed, reaching for my hand again. His fingers are warm, and there’s a quiet intensity in his eyes that makes my heart stutter.
“I know I wasn’t always the best partner,” he says slowly, his voice measured. “I’ve taken you for granted. I’ve been distant. But when I saw you like that… when I thought you were gone…”
He pauses, his grip on my hand tightening again. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”
I blink, taken aback. I don’t know how to respond to that. This is Liam—the man who barely shows emotion, who’s always so put-together, so composed.
And here he is, telling me he’s afraid of losing me?
“I’m going to do whatever it takes to win you back,” he says, his voice firm, his eyes locked on mine. “I’m not going to let you go, Aria. Not like this.”
A spark of something shoots through me at his words, something I haven’t felt in a long time. But I’m not ready to let him off the hook so easily.
I raise an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on my lips.
“So… does that mean you’re not going to sign the divorce papers?” I ask, my tone teasing, trying to lighten the mood.
Liam blinks in surprise, then lets out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Not a chance,” he says, his voice softer now. “You’re stuck with me.”
We share a smile—one that feels oddly familiar, like a glimpse of what we used to be.
But then his phone buzzes, and the moment breaks. Liam glances at the screen, his expression tightening.
“It’s work,” he mutters, clearly reluctant. “I have to go. But I’ll be back.”
He leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead, a gesture so tender it makes my heart ache. Then, without another word, he’s gone.
I stare at the door long after he’s left, my mind spinning.
I don’t know what to make of all this. Liam’s confession, his determination to win me back, the fact that he was here, crying over me… It doesn’t fit with the Liam I know.
And then there’s the question that’s been nagging at the back of my mind since I woke up: how did I get out of the building?
A week later, I’m back home, but recovery is slow. My arms still ache, and my collarbone is a constant source of pain.
Isabel has been staying with me, helping me around the house. I hate feeling this helpless, but there’s not much I can do about it right now.
“Just sit down and relax,” Isabel says as she helps me onto the couch. “You need to rest.”
“I know,” I grumble, leaning back into the cushions. “But I feel useless.”
Isabel chuckles. “You’ve always been stubborn.” She glances at the massive bouquet of flowers sitting on the entryway table. “Liam’s got good timing with those, though. They’re beautiful.”
I follow her gaze to the flowers, my chest tightening a little. They are beautiful—bright, expensive, and obviously from him. The note was simple, just his name.
“Yeah,” I murmur, “he’s been… different lately.”
Isabel raises an eyebrow, smirking. “You mean different as in running into a burning building to save you?”
I blink, my heart skipping a beat. “What?”
Isabel looks at me, her smirk fading. “Wait, you didn’t know? Liam rescued you. He ran back in and carried you out.”
I stare at her, completely floored. “Liam? He—what?”
“You didn’t know?” Isabel asks, looking genuinely surprised.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I thought… I thought the firefighters got me out.”
Isabel shakes her head, grinning. “Nope. Liam rushed back in for you. Kind of romantic, if you think about it.”
Romantic. I don’t know what to think. I mean, yes, I’m grateful—obviously. But it’s a lot to process.
Liam, my soon-to-be-ex-husband, running into a burning building to save me? And then telling me he’s going to win me back? It’s… overwhelming.
As if the universe knows I need a distraction, there’s a sudden, aggressive knock on the door. I glance at Isabel, confused.
“I’ll get it,” I say, standing up slowly and wincing as my collarbone protests the movement.
When I open the door, I’m met with an unexpected sight—Sophia, standing on my doorstep, her face twisted in anger.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter under my breath.
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Sophia snaps, stepping forward. “Throwing yourself into danger just to get Liam’s attention?”
I blink, completely baffled. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, please,” she spits, crossing her arms. “Don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing. Always playing the victim, always needing someone to save you. It’s pathetic.”
I stare at her, mouth open. Is she serious right now?
“Are you serious?” I ask, my voice rising. “I wasn’t trying to get anyone’s attention! I was doing my job, Sophia. Unlike some people, not everything I do is for a man.”
Sophia’s face reddens with fury. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? But it’s obvious—you just can’t stand that Liam’s not yours anymore.”
And that’s it. My temper snaps. “You’re mad that Liam’s bored of you,” I shoot back. “Must suck, huh?”
Sophia’s eyes widen, her face contorting in rage, but before she can respond, I slam the door in her face.
Isabel stares at me, wide-eyed. “Wow,” she says. “Didn’t think you had that in you.”
I lean back against the door, letting out a breath. “Neither did I.”
