Twice in a Lifetime (Carina) (5 page)

“Did you just reduce my career and entire education to a character flaw?” She shook her head.

“It is not a flaw, it’s just you.”

“Wait.” Her head snapped up as she played through the conversation they had had earlier in the day. At no point did she mention a doctorate. It was not on her business cards or bank statements. She was not one of those people that insisted people address her as doctor. The only time she stated her education was on her CV, and she did not remember handing him a résumé at any point. “How did you know I have a PhD?”

“You mentioned it earlier.” He shrugged.

“No, I didn’t. How did you know?”

“I must have seen it somewhere.”

“Now who is the one who needs to be honest?”

He exhaled. “Your granny.” His face was pained as if he was loath to admit it.

“You spoke to my granny? Today? Did you speak to her in the hospital? Is she OK?”

“No, I didn’t speak to her today. Why is she in hospital?”

“Oh, she broke her hip and needs an operation tomorrow,” Sarah dismissed. She didn’t want to talk about that now. “When did you speak to her?” she demanded. A sense of betrayal clawed at her. Her granny had spoken to Liam and not told her? Gran knew more than anyone how she had been destroyed when he left.

“I don’t know—maybe a week ago?”

“What—my granny called you a week ago, just out of the blue? To say what? Just shoot the breeze? Talk about old times? Like when you left me completely devastated?”

“No, it is not like that.” For the first time, he looked away from her.

“Not like what?” she demanded. “Just what is it like? Why did she call you?”

He still would not look at her. His jaw clenched, a ball of tight muscle formed under tanned skin.

“Why did she call you?” Sarah demanded again.

His head snapped back towards her. “She didn’t. I phoned her.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I phone her once a month.”

Sarah’s mouth dropped open. “You—you what?” she stammered. “Since when?” Her heart stopped in her chest with a painful thud.

“Since I left,” he admitted.

She shook her head. Her thoughts raced, running through conversations she had had with Granny. All the times she had cried in the beginning, all the times she had wondered out loud how Liam was doing, what he was doing, who he was with. And Gran had said nothing. She had never felt more betrayed in her life, not even when she saw the train pull out of the station and watched Liam leave her life without once looking back at her.

“Why? Why did you call her? What did you talk about? How did you manage to find time to call my grandmother once a month for the last ten years, but you could not return a single call I made? Tell me.”

Liam shook his head. “Don’t, Sarah.”

“No, you don’t have the right to keep this from me. Why did you phone her and not phone me?” She wanted to scream but she knew if she started she might never stop.

He ran a hand through his wet hair and swore under his breath. For a long time he stared down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them. “I don’t know,” he said at last.

“No, that’s not good enough. I was basically dead to you. But you kept in contact with my granny. Who else? Did you call Sam too?”

“No! Christ, no, Sarah. I didn’t call Sam. Why the fuck would I phone Sam? Sam is the reason—” He stopped abruptly.

“Sam is the reason, what?” she demanded.

Liam’s eyes narrowed to angry slits. “Sam is the reason I left Edinburgh, him and every other junkie. They are why I left. And as mother fucking luck would have it, they are the reason why you stayed. How is that for irony?” he said bitterly.

“Why do you hate Sam so much? We were best friends. What did he do to you? It is not like he has any impact on your life. Why are you so angry?”

“I don’t hate Sam. I would have to care about Sam to hate him.”

“What did he do to you? When did things change?”

He shook his head again. “When he stuck the fucking needle in his arm; that is when it changed.”

“One chance, that’s all people get with you, isn’t it?”

“People don’t change. Once a druggie, always a druggie. They are unreliable and manipulative. More the fool are the ones who think they can change that.” The disgusted look on his features changed to one of pained sadness. And regret.

“Oh…” Realisation washed over her. This wasn’t about Sam. The angry knot that had formed in the pit of her stomach loosened. She fought the urge to reach out and touch Liam’s arm. It was her instinctual reaction when a client disclosed something. But he was not her client. He wasn’t even her friend any more. “This isn’t about Sam. This is about your m—”

“Don’t!” He cut her off. “Don’t ever speak to me about that. I am not like you. I don’t live in my past. I am not defined by the shithole I was born into.” His jaw clenched, hatred burning in every feature. She had never seen such raw anger since that night. The warning was clear in his voice; he would not be pushed on this.

He turned and walked away from her, up the steps of the pool and back into the flat. He returned moments later, a towel slung low on his hips. Wordlessly he handed her one. She wrapped it around herself and wrung her hair out over the pool, large drops falling from her tangled tresses.

They stood in silence for what seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes. “I get it,” she said quietly. She was not sure he had heard her, but eventually he nodded. She pressed her luck by continuing. “I won’t bring it up again. But…” She struggled to find the right words. So many things were clicking into place, so many questions answered, so many hurts salved. “I get it now. Edinburgh will always symbolise that for you. I don’t know why I was so dense. You had to get away. You couldn’t stay.”
And I couldn’t leave
. She left the last words silent, hanging between them like an impenetrable barrier.

“Christ, so much emotion. All these years thinking it was only physical intimacy that benefited from getting naked—who knew?” he said with the cheeky smile she remembered. “I think you may have just invented a new treatment—naked therapy.”

Her stomach did a flip at the small movement, a reflex to seeing a glimmer of the man she loved. A smile tugged on her lips. “Well, if all my clients looked liked you, and I was not scared of getting struck off, I might implement a bit of naked therapy. It would certainly break the monotony of the day.” She laughed, a levity returned. She understood now. Things felt right in as much as she knew what was wrong, what would always be wrong between them. They never could have worked. But maybe they could be friends. She missed having him in her life. “But, saying that, I don’t have any clients that look like you, so I think I am safe.”

“What, no sandy-haired, blue-eyed chavs? Scotland invented those,” he said.

“No, not that. We have plenty of those. But they all lack your tan and your abs.”

“My abs?” He grinned, looking down at his flat stomach, seemingly oblivious to the effect he had on her.

She nodded and ran a finger down his rock-hard torso. “Here, drop your towel. I want to talk some more,” she said mischievously.

He threw back his head and laughed. “I have missed you, Sarah,” he admitted.

“Not enough to call,” she couldn’t resist saying as she sat down on the sun lounger, careful not to drip on his discarded suit.

“Like you said, one chance. We had ours.”

She nodded. Liam was not going to let himself be burned again. She understood better than anyone. “Where were you tonight?” She gestured to his suit jacket.

“I had a meeting.” He took his clothes and sat on a chair opposite her.

“Until three in the morning? Was it a naked meeting? Did I just witness the male equivalent of the walk of shame?” She just managed to keep her tone light. Friends discussed their sex lives, didn’t they?

“Nothing as exciting or scandalous. I had a meeting with a lawyer about your mate.”

“About Sam?” The mention of Sam was a sobering reminder of why she was here. “Do you know where he is being held? I couldn’t get much information over the phone.”

“He is fine,” Liam said curtly.

“How do you know? When can I see him?”

“I saw him. He is fine. A junkie and a criminal and a complete waste of your time and energy, but otherwise he is just peachy.”

She immediately switched to drugs counselor mode. “What about medication? He will be rattling by now. Have they given him anything to help with the withdrawal symptoms?”

“Yes. They gave him some nice hot cocoa and some bunny slippers. Tried to get him a hot-water bottle, but could not find one in the country, so they are having it special ordered,” Liam said sarcastically, his eyes rolled. “This is the UAE—he is lucky to still be alive. Only a complete fucking moron would mess with the Emiratis.”

Her shoulders slumped. “A moron or an addict,” she said. Sam’s chances were not great. She didn’t need to be reminded of that. Every time she thought he had managed to get his head above water, the undertow of addiction pulled him right back down again.

“Same thing,” Liam said, lacking anything that resembled empathy.

She chewed on the nail of her left thumb and forced herself to remain silent. Liam was trying to save Sam’s life, after all. He could think whatever he wanted if it meant she could bring her friend home alive. “Can I see him?” she asked.

He shook his head. “That’s not going to happen. It took a lot of bloody effort to get me in.”

Understandable—it was a long shot. “Can I at least speak to police officers, make sure he is being treated properly?”

“He is a criminal. He is in jail; he is being treated exactly like he should be.”

She took a deep breath and held it as she slowly counted to ten. She remembered this about Liam: he was testing her, to see if she would snap and bring up the past, but she was not going to rise to the bait. “What is the next step?”

“The next step is you finish your holiday and we don’t talk about it again until you leave.” He finished the sentence with the authority of a king giving an edict.

She shook her head; she did not do well with being told what to do. No amount of breathing exercises was going to help her now. “The only reason I am here is to help Sam. I agreed not to talk about your past but if I want to talk about Sam, I am going to talk about Sam…or the weather…or the stock market…or shoes.”

Liam stood up and walked back into the flat without saying a word.

“Where are you going?” Sarah stood, still soaking, and followed him through to the kitchen where he was pouring himself a glass of chilled water from the refrigerator.

“You can talk about whatever you want, Sarah, God knows I have no pull over you, but I am not going to listen. So carry on about Sam, and the weather, and what were the other ones?” He threw his head back and downed the water quickly before setting the glass on the marble counter. “Shoes and stocks, was it? Can’t offer any help with the former, but if you want to talk stocks, I’m your man.”

Her breath caught in her throat at the turn of phrase.
I’m your man
. It was a throwaway comment, meant nothing. But once upon a time he was her man and it wasn’t too hard to remember how it felt. She pretended to cough as an excuse to turn away. She needed to stop the impromptu strolls down memory lane. They only made the pain of the past more tangible. “I would rather talk about why you phoned my granny every month.”

He shook his head and walked towards the guest bedroom. “Nope. We are not talking about that either.”

“You better give me a pen so I can write down all the things you have deemed unacceptable talking points,” she scoffed.

Liam pulled back the duvet cover on the bed. “You are a smart woman, Sarah—you can remember two things. Actually let’s just make it one. We are not going to talk about anything related to Scotland. Easy enough to remember.”

“So no tartan, or shortbread, or haggis obviously. But what about football and tea? Those are a grey area, could pass as English. Better make that list.”

“Christ, Sarah, you are sexy as hell when you are annoyed. If you keep going I am going to have you on your back in the next five seconds.” He smiled at her, his blue eyes shining with a lecherous glint.

She glanced from the bed to the prominent bulge that had recently appeared under his towel. Her cheeks grew hot, blood burning as the heat continued down her body, settling between her thighs. “You are trying to distract me with sex.”

“Is it working?” His grin deepened, until a dimple appeared on his right cheek.

She shook her head because she could not speak. Her mouth was too dry.

“Really?” he said incredulously. “Because I remember I could take your mind off of anything just by kissing the back of your neck, and you would forget your own name when I kissed your—”

“Liam! You are a filthy man.” She grabbed a pillow and threw it at him.

“I know. You used to like that about me.”

“Well, not any more. I am adding sex to the list of things we are not going to talk about,” she said.

“I wasn’t talking about sex, not technically. I would call it more—”

“Stop!” Her cheeks were officially on fire now. The smoke detector would be going off at any minute.

“I was just going to say good fun. What did you think I was going to say, Sarah?”

“I never know what you are going to say. That is the problem.” The real problem was that his unpredictability was one of the many things she had loved about him; she knew him better than anyone and yet he could still surprise her. He would do or say something to make her laugh or make her blush. She was never bored with him. She had known Liam would still be winding her up and making her smile even when they were ready for Zimmer frames and a retirement community, because he was Liam.

“You are looking rather uptight. Should I kiss the back of your neck to see if it still works?”

“No, thank you.”

“Shall I kiss your—?”

“Liam! Stop talking about sex. It is on the list!” She took a step back away from him. He was too close. The lines were getting blurred again. She was seeing him as her Liam again. She had to stop. She couldn’t endure the loss again.