hands against them. I expected to feel something. A stabbing pain in my heart, a rush of breath, a flood of tears. But I just felt empty.
“You were so different that night at Sunny’s,” he said. “So much more, I don’t know, aggressive? I just got freaked out.”
“Stop,” I said. “Stop talking.” I couldn’t stand to hear him say how different I was when I was up. How he would have wanted to be with me, if only I weren’t so fucked up.
“You can hate me,” Liam said, “but I’m going to be honest. It’s who I am.”
“Except when you’re scared?”
“I panicked, okay? I Googled, and I read the worst, and I panicked. I never meant to—”
“What was ‘the worst’?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“What was the worst symptom you read about? Which part did you not want to deal with?”
Liam’s mouth opened slightly, but I cut him off before he could answer.
“Was it the depression that freaked you out? Listlessness, bad hygiene, lack of interest in sex? Suicidal thoughts? Because I’ve had all those. I’ve had all those this week.” I savored the look of shock on his face. “Or was it the hypomania? You thought I was aggressive the other night? You haven’t seen shit. I’ve broken promises. Stolen things. Made out with strangers. Driven away my best friend.” His eyes had softened, but I didn’t feel like letting up. “But those are only the extremes. Mostly, I’m just impossible to be around. One minute you’ll think I’m pissed off, and the next you’ll hate that I’m being so needy. You’ll never know what’s going through my head, and when you ask, I won’t tell you. I’ll be up and down and frantic and sedate and you’ll never know whether it’s you or me or the drugs or just my fucking disease. So if you’ve got cold feet now, I suggest you get as far away from me as you can, as fast as you can.”
And then the words dried up like someone had shut off the faucet. I folded my arms and stared out the window.
Liam was quiet for a long time, and as the seconds dragged on, I was afraid that I’d succeeded in scaring him off. I was afraid that any moment now, he was going to tell me to get out of the car. That he was going to drive away and I would never see him again. Actually, I was sure that’s what was going to happen—so I beat him to the punch. I opened the car door and had one foot on the pavement before I felt his hand on my arm.
“I read all that,” he said. “I read it all, okay? And I thought about it.” He sucked in a breath. “But . . . I just like you.”
I got back in the car, but I couldn’t face him. “Why?”
Liam reached across me and closed the car door. “Because you understand things about me that I barely understand myself. And the way you look at the world . . . You see things I’ve never noticed my whole life. So, yeah. I like you. All the versions of you. Sad, sarcastic Ellie from the wedding. Inappropriately horny Ellie from the railroad tie. I even like pissed-off, depressed, in-crisis Ellie from the hospital parking lot. I like them all. I like you.” He paused, took a shuddering breath. “I don’t pretend to know how to deal with all your stuff. I don’t think anyone does. But I’m willing to try. So bring it on. Show me the dark shit. I’m right here.”
Heat swelled behind my eyes, and I was only slightly disgusted to feel a tear streak down my cheek. I sniffled. Liam made no move to comfort me, to touch me in any way. He was so goddamned decent, I did want to murder him. Finally, I looked up. His eyes were blue and wide and seemed to be dreading whatever I was going to say.
“You practiced that speech, didn’t you?”
Relief showed in every feature on his face. “A little.”
“You’re so fucking honest.”
“You’ll hate it, eventually, if you let me stick around.”
I ran both hands through my hair, tugged. “I already do.”
Liam smiled.
“Take me back to the hotel,” I said.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, and started the car.
CHAPTER 30
AS WE DROVE BACK TO the hotel, the relief I felt from making peace with Liam faded, replaced by a vicious loop of thoughts about what I had to do next. When we pulled