Page 44 of Landing Liam

“Thank you,” I murmur, clutching the bag tightly to my chest. My voice sounds steady, but inside, my heart is pounding like it’s trying to escape.

Liam doesn’t step back immediately. He lingers, his eyes still on mine, his lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. “You’re welcome.”

I clear my throat, needing to break the tension before I combust. “Well, I’ll just… get dressed.”

He nods, stepping back to give me space, but I feel the weight of his presence as I walk back toward the bathroom. Just before I close the door, I glance over my shoulder. Liam is back on the couch, but his focus isn’t on the TV or his phone. It’s on me.

Once the door clicks shut, I lean against it, exhaling heavily. My reflection in the mirror greets me with pink cheeks and wide eyes. “Get it together, Maggie,” I whisper to myself.

Opening the bag, I pull out a soft, oversized sweater and flannel pajama pants. It’s cozy and perfect, and I can’t help but smile at the thought of Liam going out of his way to make sure I was taken care of.

As I slip into the soft flannel pants and oversized sweater, the towel pooling forgotten at my feet, the warmth spreading through me has little to do with the clothes or the lingering heat from the shower. It’s something deeper—something sparked by Liam’s gaze, the way his presence feels steady and consuming all at once.

But with every flicker of attraction, there’s an undercurrent of fear—a reminder of how easily it could all come crashing down. Liam isn’t Ryan. But the scars Ryan left behind? They’re still raw, still aching in moments like this.

I catch my reflection in the mirror, my damp hair curling around my face, my cheeks flushed pink. Tears well in my eyes as my mind drifts back to the night everything fell apart. Ryan sitting on the edge of our bed, his head in his hands as he confessed everything—the late nights, the gym trips, the showers he took the second he got home. I hadn’t noticed. Not a single thing.

Maybe it was because he still brought me flowers. He still packed us picnic lunches and took me on drives through the mountains. He still kissed me every morning before work and held me every night as we fell asleep. I thought those things meant love. Meant that we were okay.

But we weren’t. I wasn’t enough. And I hadn’t even realized it until he told me. Until he told me about her. About the baby they were having together.

My chest tightens as I wipe at the tears threatening to spill. The ache of that betrayal is still there, sharp and bitter. Ryan was my safety net, the one person who promised forever and I felt like he meant it. Then, he took a match to everything we had together and burned it to the ground.

But Liam… Liam isn’t promising me forever. He isn’t offering me grand declarations or sweeping me off my feet with empty vows. He’s just here. Present. Real. And for some reason, the idea of one night—just one moment where I let myself feel instead of overthink—feels safer than the false promise of a lifetime with someone who might blindside me again.

I inhale deeply, brushing my hair back from my face. My reflection stares back, a mixture of resolve and hesitation etched into every line of my expression. One night. That’s all it is. One night to feel something other than fear, other than doubt.

I grab the handle of the door, taking another deep breath before stepping out into the room.

Liam’s broad shoulders shift as he stares out at the swirling snow, his silhouette cast in soft shadows from the dim light outside. I take a step closer, studying the way his body looks so effortlessly strong yet relaxed. Tall, lean, powerful. Beautiful, really.

When I told him he was handsome earlier, I meant every word.

“Stop staring,” he says without turning around, his voice teasing but low enough to send a small shiver down my spine.

“Can’t help it,” I respond with a grin he can’t see. “You’re so pretty.”

He chuckles, the sound deep and warm, like a fire crackling in the hearth. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me pretty before.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” I say, stepping closer, just enough to catch the soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he glances back at me.

He exhales, his attention drifting back to the window. “It’s really coming down out there. You can barely see the cars anymore.”

“Good thing we’re safe in here,” I whisper, soft but steady as the space between us seems to shrink.

He turns then, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that steals my breath. For a moment, I think he’s going to say something, but then—darkness.

The lights flicker out, plunging the room into a velvety blackness. My breath hitches, and I hear Liam’s soft chuckle in the stillness.

“Looks like the storm isn’t playing around,” he murmurs. “We’re going to need a fire.”

Before I can respond, his hand finds mine, his touch steady and grounding as the room feels suddenly vast and intimate all at once.

“Guess we will,” I say.

Together, we stand in front of the window, our hands joined as the world outside blurs into a wash of white and grey. The storm rages, but here, in this moment, everything feels quiet. Simple. Safe.

For the first time in a long while, I feel myself letting go.