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67|You Don't Deserve Liam
The minute she was alone again on the rooftop, Eden burst into tears and cried harder than she has in a while, the howling wind and the constant stream of cars ten stories below drowning out her loud, heart-wrenching sobs.
She'd told Liam she wanted to be alone, but the truth is she would gladly take his company any day over this feeling of aloneness gnawing at her heart.
"Pull yourself together," Eden told herself over and over. But she couldn't. She didn't know how to.
She's twenty-six, with a baby of her own, and her parents' divorce shouldn't affect her so much. But it did, and in ways she'd never have imagined or would ever wish on anyone.
Maybe it was the suddenness of it all or the complete randomness, but her parents' announcement had devastated her world beyond measure and shattered all the illusions she'd had about love and relationships and family.
Yes, her family was dysfunctional at the very least. But, there was a sense of safety
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"Laura Stone is such a media whore," Lydia announced as she held up her phone. "You searched for her? Why?" Eden asked, wishing she hadn't mentioned the other woman."Well knowing you, you weren't going to stalk her!" Lydia smirked and pointed at herself proudly. "So, I— your trusted FBI agent—will do all the internet stalking for you, and dig up every piece of dirt on her. You're welcome!""Thanks!" Eden said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. But she took the phone from her friend and scrolled through Laura's gallery on her social media page. Her heart broke anew when she came across a few photos of the other woman posing with Liam's sisters at various social events. She sighed sadly as she gave the phone back to Lydia. Laura was clearly close to Liam's family, seeing she's so buddy-buddy with his sisters."She's got quite a profile," Cassandra murmured as she looked through her phone. "She's twenty-eight and an attorney at Hayes and Jon
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"So, who's it for?" Matthew asked as Liam returned the vase inside the box and reached for the painting. It was an impressionist print and nothing to write home about, at least not for the price he'd paid. The only reason he'd shelled out a small fortune for it was the artist had recently died in a car crash following a drug-fuelled joy ride on the N1 highway. For some warped reason, the art world thought his works were worth far more now that he's dead than when he was still alive. "Yeah, you're bringing out the big guns. I'm guessing it's for a woman!" Julian got straight to the point. "Please tell me it's not for Laura!" Matthew said and chugged his beer. "You just escaped with your life. I beg you, don't go back there." "It's for Eden!" "The same Eden you hate?" Julian's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Shut up! I didn't say I hate her," Liam scoffed. "It's my apology." "For what?" "The cookie incident," Liam replied
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They were at his childhood home in Glen Eagles in fifteen minutes. Sitting around the fireplace and enjoying their mid-morning snack, his parents were pleasantly surprised to see him when he walked into the parlour with Eden in tow. "Sit!" He glowered at her, pointing at the loveseat in front of the French windows overlooking the back garden. Eden hesitated ever so briefly—as if she's debating whether to challenge him or not—before she sat down. "Mom, Dad," Liam began. "You both remember Eden, my new assistant. She has a few questions for you." Eden nodded and stammered all over his parents. "Mr and Mrs Anderson, it's a pleasure to see you again." "Please call me Lois," His mom laughed, her face beaming with delight. "'Mr and Mrs Anderson' makes us sound so old and stuffy, right, Clarke?" His father cleared his throat and nodded his agreement. "Yes, of course. How are your parents, my dear? It was wonderful seeing them after su
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Eden was floored by Liam's announcement, the butterflies in her stomach skipping out of control again while her heart jumped to her throat. His half-empty bottle of wine didn't seem like a terrible idea now. Maybe a glass, half even, would do a fantastic job of calming her nerves because, quite frankly, her Evian water wasn't cutting it. But the last time she touched alcohol, she ended up in Liam's bed and pregnant with his child she's yet to inform him of. To avoid making another catastrophic mistake, Eden picked up her water instead, her hand trembling slightly. "I don't think that's going to be possible." "Why not?" Liam asked, his eyebrows shooting up. "You don't believe I can make you mine, Princess? You doubt me?" The only person Eden doubted in this whole thing was her. It would be so easy to give in to Liam, to be swept up in the excitement of possibility, to fall in love with the idea of 'what ifs' and allow herself to be consumed by
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Sometime before lunch, the phone on Eden's desk rang. She knew it's Liam; no one else called her office line. She ignored it and stared listlessly at Isaac's place of employment, at his colleagues puffing away on Marlboros or maybe Stuyvesant's on the rooftop. Tormented beyond her limits by memories of her dinner with Liam last night, Eden finally gave in to the urge. She rifled through her purse, pulled out some notes and dashed to the breakroom, ignoring Liam's frantic calls behind her. She spent a good two minutes in front of the vending machine, unable to decide between her very limited options. The cigarette brand was important; she knew that much; it said something about one's social standing. She may not be the prettiest or smartest candle in the room, but she had class and grace and poise, and her cigarette choice should reflect all her shining qualities. She shoved the notes in the slot and pressed the corresponding numbers of her bra
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