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“Again, again!” she shouted whenever he reached the end.
A full day of taking care of Grace alone, while very nice, gave Liam a newfound respect for what Amelia had done during the last month. Grace was a delight, but she was also easily distracted and in need of constant entertainment.
All the while, as he played with his daughter and made her lunch, part of Liam’s thoughts were with Amelia. He felt terrible that he was sick — and even worse for how they’d left things. How he’d left things.
Last week, when they’d fought, Liam knew he’d gone too far. His work was important, and Amelia needed to recognize that, but he hadn’t needed to be quite so forceful. Since then, he had avoided Amelia as best as he could. He knew that his daughter needed Amelia, and he knew that the best thing he could do for Amelia was to give her space. There was no way she wanted him around — and Liam didn’t want to give her any false impressions.
Now that she wasn’t feeling well, though, he had no choice but to be home with her. Plus, if they were going to be sharing space, they might as well try to be friends.
Friends. The word felt wrong, even in Liam’s own mind. When he thought of Amelia, he couldn’t imagine her as just a friend. She was so much more than that, even though friendship was all he could offer her. The week they’d spent together had made it clear that if Liam opened his heart, he’d be giving up everything else — his work, his legacy, the financial security he’d spent years creating. He couldn’t do that. And being with Amelia only halfway wouldn’t be fair to her.
As if his thoughts had summoned her, Amelia came into the living room. She was wearing pajamas and a messy bun, and her face was still pale. Liam felt a stab of worry. He wasn’t sure how she’d gotten sick.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
She shrugged and sank onto the sofa across from Liam and Grace. “I’m okay. Thank you.”
There was a long pause. Liam wanted to cross the room and take Amelia into his arms. He wanted to give her tea and tuck her under a warm blanket and stroke her forehead to see if she had a fever. He cared about her with an intensity that he’d never experienced before — not even during the most important parts of his work.
Liam shut that down. Amelia wasn’t his to care for. They had a business relationship, and they were friends, but that was all.
“Are you hungry?” Liam asked. Amelia turned slightly green.
“I ate some of the crackers you left. Thank you. But I think I won’t have anything else. I’ll go back to bed soon; I just wanted to check on you and Grace.”
“We’re doing fine.” Liam tried not to bristle at Amelia’s comment. She probably wasn’t trying to imply that he couldn’t take care of his daughter for one day. Although perhaps she was — that was more or less what she’d said a couple of weeks ago.
Another wave of guilt washed over Liam. Perhaps that wasn’t what Amelia had been saying. Yet every word she’d spoken during their fight had felt like a jagged barb through Liam’s life and values.
“Okay. I’ll go back to bed.” Amelia got up, brushed imaginary dust off her pajama pants, and hurried out of the room.
“Meel,” Grace said as Amelia left. Her tone was sad.
“It’s okay,” Liam said. “She’ll be back soon.”
There was that guilt again. If Grace had been this sad — or even sadder — about Liam being gone, he would have been upset with himself for leaving too. The thought of Amelia comforting his tearful daughter because he’d left for work instead of going to the zoo was painful.
It didn’t change anything, though.
The best way forward, the only way forward, was for him to earn enough to support Grace financially without getting more involved on a personal level with either his daughter or his fake wife. Keeping his distance was easier said than done, but it was necessary.
As evening rolled around, Liam realized that his chef wasn’t coming today and that Amelia definitely wouldn’t be up for cooking. He could handle breakfast, but dinner was a bit more complicated.
Liam went into the kitchen, Grace following him like a happy puppy (the opposite of thirty minutes earlier when she’d cried bitterly because Liam wouldn’t let her eat toilet paper from the roll).
“What should we make?” he asked.
“Pizza!” Grace did a happy wiggle. “Meel make pizza.”
“I’m sure she does. But we might have to settle for something a little simpler. Do you like spaghetti?”
“Pasghetti,” Grace said happily. “Meel make pasghetti.”
Liam did his best not to sigh. It made sense that Grace wanted to talk about Amelia a lot — she loved her, after all. Yet each time the child brought Amelia up, it only reminded him of how difficult it was to keep his distance.
“Meel does make spaghetti,” he agreed. “But today, Daddy’s making the spaghetti.”
“Daddy make pasghetti?” Grace’s face furrowed into a confused frown, and Liam had to stifle a laugh. She had no confidence in his cooking abilities — which was fair, since Liam didn’t either.
