Page 208 of Dream On, Liar

“The clause you’re worried about?” She didn’t move “I looked into it.”

I could see the moment she realised I wasn’t guessing.

“All it requires is a signature confirming a consensual relationship,” I said. “And if it ends, neither of us can speak to the media about it.”

Her expression shifted—something like surprise, something like alarm. “That’s it?”

“Yeah.” I held her gaze. “So, the only thing really stopping you, are your own fears. And I can’t help you with those. Not if you aren’t even going to talk to me.”

Her entire body went still.

But I didn’t stay to see what it did to her.

Moving past her, I walked towards the exit. The bell above the door rang as I stepped outside. Cold air hit my face like a reset I didn’t want.

I adjusted my grip on the drinks and kept moving.

Mayfair was busy in the way it always was—people moving like they had somewhere more important to be than the present moment.

Rain started again, lighter at first, before it turned heavier.

I didn’t look back.

Because I already knew what I’d see if I did.

And I didn’t trust myself to keep walking away if I did.

Maeve

THE PRESSURE IN MY chest didn’t ease when I stopped.

The words stayed with me for days.

Not in the dramatic way I might have expected.

They didn’t arrive every morning like some grand revelation.

They simply sat there.

Quietly.

Patiently.

I won’t have that from the person I love too.

I could hear them in the shower.

In the car.

When I was working.

When I laid awake at night pretending I wasn’t wondering whether he had made it back to the townhouse, whether he was sleeping, whether he had thought about me at all.

The worst part was that I knew he was right.

I’d left without a word.

I had chosen silence instead of a conversation.