Chapter 43
Aria’s POV
The office buzzes with life as I step inside, the familiar sounds of keyboards clacking and hushed conversations wrapping around me.
It feels good to be back, though a dull ache in my collarbone reminds me that I'm not entirely in fighting shape just yet. But I'm here, and that's what matters.
The second I cross the threshold into the main hallway, a small crowd gathers—coworkers, friends, even a few higher-ups I barely talk to.
“Aria, you’re back!” The office receptionist rushes over, pulling me into a careful hug. “We were so worried. How are you feeling?”
“Still kicking,” I joke, giving her a small smile. “Thanks for keeping things afloat while I was gone.”
"Of course!" She beams, stepping back as a few others come over, echoing her sentiments.
I glance around, a little overwhelmed but genuinely touched by the outpouring of concern. It’s strange—after everything that’s happened with Liam, I didn’t expect to feel this supported.
But here they are, coworkers and friends alike, checking in on me like I’m a part of something bigger than just work.
"Don't overdo it, okay?" One of the project managers gives me a stern but concerned look. "We need you at full strength when you're back in the saddle."
"I'll be fine, thank you. Don’t worry." I grin at him, but it’s genuine. For the first time in a while, I actually feel grounded—like things might be okay again, at least in this part of my life.
A few hours later, I'm out at the track, adrenaline pumping through me despite the dull ache in my body. My clipboard is tucked under my arm, and I’m barking instructions at Jackson as he preps for a practice run.
The kid’s got raw talent, but he’s still learning how to handle the pressure, especially with rival teams breathing down his neck.
“You’ve got this,” I say firmly, my eyes on him as he adjusts his helmet. “Focus on the corners. You know the track better than anyone here.”
Jackson gives me a quick nod before hopping into the car, but before I can move back toward the pit, I hear a sneer from one of the rival team managers.
“Isn’t it a little early to be back, Aria?” His voice drips with condescension. “Looks like someone’s trying too hard. Don’t want you falling apart out there, considering... well, everything.”
I stiffen, ready to snap back, when Liam’s voice cuts through the tension.
“Just watch her,” Liam says smoothly, stepping beside me with a casual confidence that catches me off guard.
There’s a hint of pride in his voice, and when I glance at him, he meets my gaze, his expression unwavering.
For a split second, I’m grateful—it would be like Liam to rise to the bait, to make a scene out of my battles. But this time was different.
He defended me, sure, but without making it about him. He knows I can handle myself, and right now, all I want to do is show this idiot exactly what I’m capable of.
I wave off the manager’s comment and turn my attention back to Jackson, watching intently as the race begins. The cars roar to life, the sound vibrating through my bones, and Jackson’s in the lead right out of the gate.
My heart pounds in my chest as I keep my eyes glued to the track, watching every move Jackson makes, coaching him through his headset, fine-tuning his performance in real-time.
He’s nailing every corner, every turn, and by the halfway point, he’s got a comfortable lead.
The rival manager stands a few feet away, his arms crossed, looking like he’s just swallowed something bitter.
Liam catches my eye again, a faint smirk playing on his lips. He doesn’t say anything—he doesn’t need to. Jackson pulls into the lead and holds it the rest of the way.
When the race ends, Jackson is grinning ear to ear, and I allow myself a small moment of pride. This is what I live for—the strategy, the wins, the satisfaction of knowing we did our best.
As I congratulate Jackson, Liam steps back, not making a big show of it, and I appreciate that.
The next day, I’m buried in work, trying to catch up on everything I missed while I was in the hospital.
My collarbone still aches, but it’s manageable, and I’m so focused that I barely notice the knock on my office door.
“Come in,” I say absentmindedly, still typing away at my computer.
The door opens, and I glance up, my fingers freezing mid-typing. It’s Liam, holding two takeout bags.
He steps inside with a casual air, like this is something he’s done a hundred times before.
“Thought you might be hungry,” he says, holding up the bags. “I got your favorite.”
I blink, caught off guard. “My favorite?”
Liam nods and sets the bags on my desk. “That little Italian place you love. Figured you could use a break.”
I hesitate. Part of me wants to turn him down—because this feels too familiar, too comfortable—but the smell of the food is too tempting, and honestly, I am starving.
“Alright,” I say slowly, pushing my laptop to the side. “But don’t think this means anything.”
He chuckles, pulling up a chair across from me. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
We sit in silence for a moment, unpacking the food, and I have to admit, he remembered everything. My favorite dish, the extra side of breadsticks… it’s all there.
I try to keep my guard up, but it’s hard not to appreciate the gesture.
“So,” I say, taking a bite of pasta, “what’s the occasion?”
Liam looks at me for a moment, his expression more serious now. “No occasion. I just… I wanted to talk.”
I set my fork down, bracing myself. Here it comes.
“I’ve been thinking a lot,” he begins, his voice quiet but steady. “About us. About everything that happened. I know I wasn’t the husband I should’ve been. I took you for granted, and I let things slip away. But I’m working on that. I’m trying to be better—for you and for Joe.”
I stare at him, unsure of what to say. I want to believe him, I really do, but this isn’t the first time Liam’s made promises. And I’m not ready to let him off the hook just yet.
“Liam,” I start slowly, choosing my words carefully, “I appreciate what you’re saying. I do. But I need to know if this is real. If you’re really changing, or if this is just… temporary.”
He meets my gaze, his eyes steady. “I understand why you’d be skeptical. I get it. But I’m serious, Aria. I’ve had a lot of time to think, and I don’t want to lose you. I’m not perfect, but I’m trying.”
I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “It’s not that simple. There’s a lot of history between us. A lot of things that went wrong. And I need to know that you’re not just saying this because you’re afraid of being alone.”
Liam’s jaw tightens, but he nods.
“I’m not doing this because I’m afraid of being alone. I’m doing this because I… care for you. And because I want to be the kind of man you deserve.”
His words hang in the air between us, heavy and full of meaning. I don’t know how to respond, so I take another bite of my food, letting the silence stretch out.
After a while, Liam clears his throat, shifting the mood. “There’s a race this weekend,” he says casually, “thought you might want to join Joe and me at the track.”
I raise an eyebrow, surprised by the invitation. “You want me to come with you?”
He nods, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah. I thought Joe might enjoy it.”
I take a sip of water, mulling it over. It’s tempting—too tempting. But I’m not about to jump headfirst into anything.
“I’ll think about it,” I say, trying to keep my tone light.
Liam doesn’t press, just nods and finishes his food. We spend the rest of the meal in comfortable silence, but the weight of our conversation lingers, hanging in the air between us.
As Liam leaves, I can’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—he really has changed. But I’m not ready to give him my heart again. Not yet.
