To Have It All(89)

Two days had passed and Liam, despite his amazing test results, still had not woken up. Dr. Malcom reiterated not to get our hopes up, even though he seemed optimistic. If and when Liam did wake up, we had no idea what we would be dealing with. There could be substantial brain damage. After Liam had taken a turn for the better, I called Matt and asked him if he could keep Pim for a couple of days. We’d had a long conversation where I assured him I was not reuniting with Max. I told him Max was ill and I felt morally obligated to help him. I didn’t mention Liam. I figured I needed to give Matt information in small bites.

By the third day, I was becoming anxious. Why wasn’t Liam waking up? I picked Pim up from Ms. Patty’s and brought her to the hospital to see Liam. I wasn’t sure if he could hear us when we spoke to him, but I knew if he could, he’d love to hear her voice.

When we walked into Liam’s room, she immediately grinned when she caught sight of Helen. Helen took her and squeezed her. “I’ve missed this little cutie,” she preened.

“She missed you, too.”

“Look who’s here to see you, big brother,” Helen said as she turned to the bed where Liam lay. Gently, she sat Pim beside Liam, close to his chest as I rounded the bed on the opposite side. If Pim decided to start crawling, I needed to get her off him. She’d never seen Liam in his true physical form and I worried she’d get her usual stranger wariness.

Tilting her head, she looked at him, patting his chest with her chubby little hand.

“Can you say hi, Pim,” I prompted her.

Pim rubbed his chest. Softly, she giggled. “Liam.”

Helen’s eyes were as wide as mine felt when we glanced at each other. “She must’ve heard us call him that,” I quickly pointed out.

Helen nodded. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Had to have heard us.”

When Pim laid her head on Liam’s chest, my heart melted. “Vroom-vroom,” Pim babbled, and this time I knew she hadn’t overheard us.

She knew it was Liam.

And that’s when it happened.

Liam opened his eyes.





He sat outside the church wearing a Yankee’s hat he’d hoped would help him blend in. The guests of the wedding had just begun to emerge from the tall cathedral doors when he saw her. She was wearing a teal dress, the skirt looked like a tutu. His lips curved up ever so slightly before he caught himself.

The sight made him happy. The way a father feels happy when he sees his tiny daughter looking adorable. Now he was frowning as he realized she wasn’t really his daughter, was she?

His ex-brother-in-law stood next to his bride Alice, in her white satin dress, smiling at the photographer. I’d rewarded Matt well for his choices. He’d been a wonderful brother and uncle, and now, he would live a life with a woman he truly loved.

Max tugged his hat down a little further. He knew Matt was not his biggest fan and he didn’t doubt that, even on his wedding day, if Matt noticed him watching them, he’d rush across the street and attack him.

Max’s gaze moved from the bride and groom to the giddy little girl, then to her mother, who wore a matching teal dress, the fabric loose and flowing. Beautiful. That’s all he’d ever seen when he looked at her. As he stared at her, I could feel his regret; his pain radiating off of him. He’d lost her, and he had no one to blame but himself.

Beside her was him.

Liam.

The man who’d taken over his body, his life. Even knowing Max’s pain, I couldn’t help smiling as I watched Liam. He looked nice in a suit, but anything would look better than dirty street clothes. He’d made a full recovery and looked better than ever. Broad shoulders and muscles now replaced the bag of bones he had been after living on the street. Bending, he picked up Pim and held her as he put one arm around Waverly, the three of them smiling as they posed for a photo.

At that moment, Max took his own snap; like a camera, his mind captured the moment, burning the image into his brain for eternity. To others viewing the moment, the image, they might only see a beautiful couple with a gorgeous little girl; a happy family, but Max saw so much more. He saw a man that had everything—that had it all.

His all.

“Lucky man.”

His head snapped toward me, following the sound of my voice. He watched me with weary eyes for a moment, wondering when I’d sat down. He hadn’t even noticed until I’d spoken. He didn’t know who I was, especially not in the form I was. He couldn’t have known I’d been watching him all of his life, that I knew his pain.

“Yeah,” he agreed, as he cleared his throat, moving his gaze back to the church.

“You got a family?” I asked. He furrowed his brow, becoming slightly annoyed with his new bench buddy. He was here spying on his ex, he didn’t want to make small talk. Then, he noticed the small black cat in my lap. I tried not to chuckle as I read his thoughts.

A stuffed animal? He’d been in countless and unending hours of therapy for almost a year, and he’d learned a lot, mostly about himself, but also not to assume things about others. Maybe he didn’t want to talk with me, but he decided he shouldn’t be rude to me either. After all, I was petting a stuffed animal, clearly I had issues.

“I did . . . sort of,” he finally answered, “but they’re gone now.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I sighed.