Spencer King has everything-except the one thing he truly wants.
As the head of a multi-million dollar empire, Spencer enjoys power, prestige, and a stunning view of New York City. But behind the success lies a lingering ache-he's alone. The woman h...
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BROOKLYN
The hallway feels longer than I remember.
I'm rolled slowly in a wheelchair, the movement steady and smooth. I begged to walk, but the doctor didn't want to risk another dizzy spell. Apparently, I have a concussion severe enough that walking could lead to a collapse. I didn't argue long after trying to stand and seeing four nurses that looked identical. Either they're quadruplets or my brain still hasn't figured out how to see straight.
Gloria is behind me, pushing the chair gently and patiently like she knows I might hurl at any moment. She's been kind. Steady. Comforting.
But none of that matters right now.
Because I'm on my way to see Liam.
Room 126.
My heart picks up at the thought that he's just on the other side of a single door. A thin barrier between us. It's surreal how something so small can separate you from someone you love.
Do I love him?
Of course, I do. I wouldn't have said yes when he proposed if I didn't. I wouldn't be here now if I didn't. Right?
The door opens and I catch sight of him before he sees me—his dark hair mussed, his strong jaw shadowed in stubble, his eyes fixed on the muted TV across the room. Then the door creaks, and his head turns.
His eyes meet mine and a smile spreads across his face. It's the kind of smile that melts everything else away. The kind that makes it easy to forget about ambulances and hospital beds and the fact that I almost lost him.
Gloria wheels me closer to the bed, and immediately Liam's hand finds mine. His grip is gentle but firm, like he doesn't want to let go. His palm is cool—colder than Spencer's ever was.
Why am I thinking about Spencer?
"I'll be just outside if you need anything," Gloria says, before stepping out and softly closing the door behind her.
"I've been waiting for you to wake up since last night," Liam says, voice low. "I was starting to get really worried."
"I'm here now," I whisper, tears prickling behind my eyes.
It's too much. Waking up in a hospital. Ending things with Spencer. And now this—Liam, safe but hurting, still somehow smiling at me like I'm the only thing in the world he sees.
"I know," he says, his thumb brushing a tear that escapes down my cheek. His eyes glisten too. "Please don't cry."
"I'm just... so happy you're okay." I rise slowly to hug him, only to pause as nausea hits hard. I hug him anyway, though he winces slightly.
"Sorry," I mumble and try to pull away.
"Nonsense," he says, scooting over to give me room. He pulls me gently to his side.
I settle into him, breathing in his scent. He doesn't smell like pine soap or aftershave today—he smells sterile, like disinfectant. Like a hospital. But he's warm, and solid, and here.
He cups my face in his hands, his thumb stroking my bottom lip. "I'm so ready for you to become my wife... in fifteen days."
The words are like a wave, warm and calm and full of love. So I don't think—I kiss him. And for a moment, we move in perfect sync. It's different from every kiss I've had with Spencer. Not as electric, but softer. Familiar. Safe.
Then the door bursts open.
We pull apart immediately as Tori appears in the doorway, breathless.
"I rushed here as soon as I heard. Are you okay?" Her voice is anxious, her eyes darting to Liam and then—when they land on me—they freeze.
She looks like a deer caught in headlights.
"Hi," she says quietly, almost like she hadn't expected me to be here.
It's... weird. Why is she barging into Liam's hospital room like this? Like she expected to find him alone?
"Can I talk to you?" I ask her flatly.
Liam groans. "Do you have to?"
"I'll be back soon," I say gently, though I'm already moving toward the wheelchair. My legs wobble, dizziness striking fast.
Tori's at my side instantly, helping me sit before I hit the floor.
⸻
Back in my hospital room, Tori sits across from me, wringing her hands like a teenager in trouble. She's perched on the edge of the chair beside my bed, barely meeting my eyes.
"I was trying to find you," she starts. "But you weren't in your room, so I figured you were with Liam."
Her voice is casual—too casual. Something feels off.
"You didn't just come to see me, did you?" I ask bluntly. "You were there to see him."
Her jaw tightens, but she doesn't deny it.
"I know," I say, watching her reaction closely.
"Know what?" she says too quickly, eyes wide with panic.
"That you're pregnant."
Her face falls. Just... falls.
"Oh." She fumbles for words. "Who told you?"
"Liam," I whisper, quieter than I intended.
"I asked him not to tell anyone," she says, frustration lacing her voice.
"I should've been the first person you told. We're best friends, Tori."
"I know," she sighs, looking down at her lap. "I didn't want you to think I was a slut."
"I'd never think that," I say softly. "Who's the father?"
"I think... Grayson. But he won't answer my calls, and when I went to his apartment, he wasn't there."
A tear slips down her cheek. I suddenly realize how scared she must be—how alone.
I hesitate before speaking. "There's a reason for that."
Her eyes flick to mine, searching. "What do you mean?"
"He... took an internship in California," I say gently. "He left yesterday."
She goes silent. Swallows hard.
"Oh," she whispers.
It's one of those moments where there's nothing left to say. Just silence. Just pain and confusion. Just two friends sitting in the aftermath of a million choices, wondering how things got so messy.
And I don't even know what hurts more—knowing she kept this from me... or knowing I did the same to her.
