Marrying My Father's Enemy-Chapter 30: The Waiting Room: Liam’s Past
Chapter 30: The Waiting Room: Liam’s Past
Chapter 30: The Waiting Room: Liam’s Past
Liam leaned against the cold, white wall, staring blankly at the forms he had just filled out.
His pen hovered over the last section as he listened to the hushed voices of doctors discussing Eira’s condition in the hallway.
"What’s... going on with Eira?" he finally asked.
He caught a nurse’s eye, but she merely shook her head and rushed away, leaving him alone in the waiting room.
With a sigh, he stood up and went to find some coffee.
The faint sound of the vending machine was almost soothing, grounding him for a moment.
He sipped the bitter coffee, staring into the distance when he overheard two doctors speaking nearby.
"Callian Reed’s condition isn’t improving," one murmured.
"No signs of movement. At this rate... who knows if he’ll even make it through the next few days," the other replied, with a shake of his head.
Liam’s hand froze mid-air, the cup inches from his lips.
Callian, in such a fragile state?
He ran his fingers through his hair, feeling a strange satisfaction and worry at the same time, building inside him.
He finished his coffee, tossed the cup, and turned back toward Eira’s room.
When he reached her bedside, she was still asleep, her breathing soft and steady against the harsh white of the hospital sheets.
He pulled a chair closer.
"You know, I always wondered... how did you know I was there that night? Were you expecting me?"
He paused, watching her still sleeping, wondering if she could hear him. "I thought I was good at blending in, going unnoticed. But somehow... you knew."
He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "Maybe you see things others don’t. Or maybe... you know me better than I know myself."
His look softened as he looked at her, lying there, bruised but alive.
A part of him wished she would wake up and give him answers, but another part wanted her to stay asleep so he could talk freely.
He leaned forward, his fingers traced small patterns on the edge of the hospital bed.
"Tell me, Eira. What’s your plan if Callian... if he doesn’t make it? You have to have thought about it."
He swallowed, trying to keep his voice normal. "I mean, someone’s gotta take over everything, right? All his responsibilities, his business, his... legacy. And then there’s Henry."
Liam’s voice grew quieter, like it was conspiratorial.
"What are you going to do about him? He’s not just going to sit back, you know. If Callian dies, Henry... he’ll try to control everything. You, the business, your life."
He hesitated, biting his lip. "But... maybe you already know that."
He glanced up at her face, peaceful and untroubled in sleep.
"You know Henry isn’t easy to deal with. But you’re strong, Eira. You’re smart." He clenched his fists, as if reassuring himself. "I just... I just wish you’d let me help you. Whatever you’re planning, I could... I could be useful. I saved you, didn’t I? Doesn’t that mean anything?"
His voice softened as he leaned closer, brushing a stray hair from her face.
"It’s just... if Callian dies, I know you won’t let Henry have his way. But I want to be a part of it, whatever you do. You don’t have to do this alone... we are family."
He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the secrets coming back. "Eira, maybe I never told you, but... I’m on your side. No matter what."
He looked down at his hands, the quiet stretching around them.
The only sound was the steady beep of the monitor next to her bed. "So... when you wake up, maybe you could... tell me. What’s the plan?"
Silence.
He sighed, running his fingers through his hair again, feeling the exhaustion go deep in his bones.
"I just want you to know I’m here. Whatever happens, I’ll be here."
But the only response was the sound of the machines, and Liam felt the quiet push down on him once more. "I’m so sick of being everyone’s dog..."
Liam stared down at Eira. He clenched his jaw as the emotions were battling inside him that he didn’t quite understand.
Slowly, he started talking again, as if the words were meant more for him than for her.
"You know... everyone looks at me like I’m nothing. Just... just a bastard," he muttered, bitterness started edging his words.
"They think that means I don’t belong, that I don’t matter. Because I wasn’t ’born right,’ like you or Callian. Like Henry’s Vanesa."
He scoffed, shaking his head. "All my life, they’ve looked at me that way—Henry, Beatrice, everyone. Always pushing me aside, like I’m just... in the way. Just an accident."
He looked down at his hands, clenched tightly in his lap. "Maybe that’s why I stopped trusting people. When everyone sees you as less than them, you start believing it. You start thinking you’re... broken."
Liam started thinking about his past. "But there was one person who didn’t see me that way. My mother. She was the only one who ever really... loved me. She used to hold me close, tell me I was strong, that I’d make something of myself. She’d say, ’Liam, you don’t need anyone’s approval. You’re enough.’"
He blinked hard. "She was all I had. She used to work two jobs just to keep us going. She’d come home exhausted, her hands were always rough and bruised from cleaning houses. But she’d still smile at me, still find time to read me a story or cook me a hot meal."
A faint, sad smile touched his lips. "She used to make these little dumplings every Sunday. Said they were ’a family recipe.’ Just for us. Just our thing."
He took a long breath, then his anger returned, so thick and bitter. "But then... Beatrice found out about her. Found out Henry had... had me with someone else. And you know what she did?"
He pressed his hands tighter, his knuckles turned white. "She had her killed. My mother was just... gone. One day she was there, the next..." His voice faded.
Liam’s gaze grew darker; he hardened his tone. "Beatrice didn’t even let me say goodbye. Didn’t let me see her one last time. And the funeral?"
He scoffed, the memory was full of raw pain. "They didn’t tell me where it was. Didn’t let me know where they buried her. Like she was nothing. Like she never existed."
He leaned forward, looking at Eira’s sleeping face. "Do you know what that feels like? To lose the only person who ever cared, and not even know where she’s buried? To be shut out like you’re some stain on the family?"
He shook his head again, a bitter laugh escaped his lips. "I bet you do. You... also didn’t grow up with love, with everything. Henry didn’t treat you like a princess. Like me? We were shoved away, treated like trash."
Liam’s fists unclenched slowly. "I was just a kid, Eira. A kid who’d lost his mom. And they didn’t care. They just sent me away, as if... as if I didn’t matter."
His shoulders sagged, the anger started slowly fading away. "That’s why I don’t trust anyone, Eira. Not even you. I learned the hard way that people only care about themselves. That people... lie."
He paused. "But I wish things were different. I wish I could... be someone else. Someone good. But I can’t. Not after all this. So that’s why, if you don’t help me, you will go down with the rest of them."
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