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He clears his throat and leans toward the camera.
“Is it recording?” The picture shakes, then settles. “Owen told me there would be a red light. There’s no red light.”
His face disappears. The ceiling takes its place and I hear him mutter something about goalies being useless before the screen goes dark. The next clip begins with him sitting farther back.
“Okay. If you’re watching this, the code worked. If it didn’t, you’re not watching it, so that sentence doesn’t matter.”
He runs his fingers through light brown hair, pushing it back as he looks around the room, then rubs the back of his neck. “So hey, Eva. I’ll be honest, I really wanted to write you a song because music is your thing, and apology songs seem to work pretty well for your dad.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. He’s not wrong.
“Unfortunately, your dad has decades of experience and several awards. I know three guitar chords, two of which may actually be the same one, and nothing useful rhymes with Eva.” He pauses. “Fever does, technically, but that took the song in a direction neither of us needs.”
I laugh again, then cover my mouth.
On-screen, Liam looks down at his hands. When he lifts his gaze, the humor has left his face. “Here’s the part I need to say without making a joke.”
My fingers tighten around the phone and my heart slams in my chest.
“I promised I would be there for you, and I wasn’t. I know what that looked like. More importantly, I know what it felt like. There were reasons I couldn’t leave when I meant to. But there is no reason that changes what happened to you. I should have found a way to get word to you before you had to wonder. I didn’t, and I am so sorry.”
Mitch nudges his head beneath my elbow, pulling my attention to him. I lower one hand to his back, stroking him slowly and then go back to watching Liam’s video.
“Eva, I got the spot,” Liam continues. “That’s what the meeting was about. I need you to know because you’re the person I wanted to tell. Not because it excuses what happened. It doesn’t. I wanted that letter, Eva, but I didn’t want it instead of being there for you.”
My vision blurs. I blink until the screen clears.
“I know this wasn’t only about one missed pickup. You trusted me, and I made you feel like you weren’t important enough for me to keep my word.”
He looks away for a second, his jaw tight.
“You are important. You are not someone I fit in after hockey or remember when everything else is handled. You’re the first person I wanted to call when I got the good news. You. You’re the person I want beside me when something good happens, and the person I want when nothing feels right.”
His mouth pulls into a faint, unhappy smile. “This is where the song would have helped.”
Tears sting the backs of my eyes.
“Every single thing you’ve built matters. I see all of it, Eva.” He stops, swallowing. “I see you.”
The words find every unprotected place inside me.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me tonight. I’m not showing up at your door and making you take care of how bad I feel. I only need you to know that I’m sorry. And if you let me, I will do better.”
He leans forward, then stops. “I miss you. That isn’t part of the apology. It’s just true.”
The video ends.
I sit perfectly still, one hand resting on Mitch and the other wrapped around my phone. The problem with Liam’s box is that it makes an irritatingly thorough argument. There is chai. Chocolate. A ridiculous skeleton. Little toys he got from who knows where that represent Thomas and Mitch.
The thought he put into this. Every item is evidence of a moment he remembers. A moment where he clearly chooses me.
My phone chimes, and I look down. My red-light mask has been delayed until tomorrow. Apparently, tonight’s illumination has already happened and it was entirely personal.
I look at the time. It’s after eight. There’s several people I could call to talk this out, but I need the right person.
Juliette would tell me to follow my heart. Vivian would ask calm, sensible questions until I admitted what I wanted. Lucy would probably drive over, force me into her car, and deliver me to Liam’s house before I could put on shoes.
Instead, I tap Dad’s name. For all the complicated history between us, he is still the first man I ever loved, while also being the first person who taught me how badly someone not being there can hurt.
