Beautifully Broken Pieces (Sutter Lake, #1)(75)

Liam squeezed my shoulder again. “We love you, Tay. We want to be there for you. But you can’t keep running. You can’t keep pushing everyone away.”

I let my head fall to my knees. “It’s the only way I know not to hurt.”

Liam’s grip on me tightened until I was sure it would leave a bruise. “You’re lying to yourself, Taylor. Pushing people away doesn’t mean it won’t hurt if you lose them, it just means you’ll be lonely until they’re gone.”

I gritted my teeth. Liam was wrong. I felt a measure of peace when I was alone. When it was just me and the water, swimming until my muscles shook with fatigue. Or when I was alone with the road, my feet pounding the packed earth until my lungs burned. That life could be enough for me.

Liam released his hold on me. “I’m going to be honest with you because I think you need a wakeup call. You’re wasting your life away. You have so much to give. You’re an incredible teacher, and you have such a way with kids. You were an amazing caregiver to your mom, you could give that gift to someone else. You used to be one of the best friends someone could hope to have.”

I clued in to the used to be part of his statement and cringed. Liam pushed on. “But, honestly, this past year, you’ve been a crap friend.” My head snapped up, but Liam held up a hand. “I get it. You’ve been through something horrible. And in relationships, we all have times where we take more than we give. It’s natural. But it can’t go on forever. Get your head out of your ass and realize you’re not the only one dealing with shit before you lose the only people you have left.”

With that, he rose. “I’m going to take a shower and get dressed. Why don’t you do the same, and then I’ll make us some breakfast. Maybe you’ll be ready to really talk then.”

I bit the inside of my cheek but nodded. Liam’s and my talk last night hadn’t really been a true discussion. It had quickly devolved into us taking shots and me yelling about what a good-looking, pushy bastard Walker was.

I sat on the floor for another few minutes, breathing in and out, the air feeling harsh against my lungs. I knew it wasn’t the air causing the sensation, it was the harshness of the truth. I played the last two and a half years back in my mind. My friends had been amazing. So incredibly supportive. But had I given any of that back? I wasn’t sure.

That uncertainty gutted me. I had no idea what my future held, but one thing was for certain, I needed to repair my friendships. It was clear that Liam was messed up about something, and I had barely noticed.

But Liam was here now. In Sutter Lake. A place I knew held peace and the power of restoration. I would be there for him and support him in whatever ways he needed. I was done getting stuck in this pity spiral. I thought about how good it had felt to help Noah learn to read. It was selfish, but helping others, getting some outward focus, that was the way forward.

I pushed up from the floor and headed for my shower. I stripped off the massive t-shirt I was wearing. Walker hadn’t been looking at me closely enough, because if he had been, he would have realized that the shirt was his. Wearing it to sleep helped me feel close to him, even when he wasn’t next to me. My heart clenched with a painful spasm.

I stepped under the spray and let the steaming water pound down on my body. I wished it could wash away the many mistakes I’d made over the past two years, clear away the hurts I’d caused. But the only one who could do that was me.

Turning the dial, I switched the water off and stepped out of the shower. I made quick work of drying myself off and slipping on some yoga pants. I bit the inside of my cheek as I looked at my t-shirt options. My fingers trailed over the worn cotton of another of Walker’s shirts. I couldn’t resist it. I pulled it over my head, taking time to inhale the familiar scent of his detergent and a lingering hint of his cologne. I squeezed my eyes closed, attempting to relieve the pain. It didn’t work.

I toed on a pair of sneakers and headed out into the living room, steeling my spine in preparation for my talk with Liam. It was time for me to do some major apologizing and some real listening.

The main living space was silent. I didn’t see him in the kitchen and, poking my head out, I noticed he wasn’t on the porch either. I listened harder. There were no sounds of the shower still running in the downstairs guest room. “Liam? Are you getting ready?” Nothing.

I knocked on his door. “Liam?” Still nothing. I slowly pushed open the door, not wanting to catch an eyeful. The bed was empty, filled only with rumpled sheets and scattered pillows. I peeked in the bathroom. The shower floor was wet, so he had been in there.

I made my way back towards the kitchen in search of my phone. Maybe he was more pissed than I thought and left. I had a lot to make up for. I rounded the corner, and my heart plummeted to my toes.

Lying sprawled out, face-down on the floor, was Liam. “Oh my God, Liam!” I ran to him and crouched at his side. I felt for a pulse. All the air in my lungs whooshed out of me when I felt the rhythm against my fingers. Carefully—oh so freaking carefully—I rolled Liam onto his back.

With one hand behind his head, I leaned over so that my face was right next to his mouth. I breathed another sigh of relief when his breath tickled my cheek. Not dead. His heart is beating. His lungs are inflating. He’s not dead. I leaned back and, for the first time, felt a sticky substance on my hand. I pulled it carefully from behind his head and gasped. My hand was covered in blood.