“You’re the first person who’s said that.”
We sit in silence for a while. The lake reflects nothing now but starlight, and the crickets carry on like they don’t know the world has changed. My world has changed with this news. Obviously, the world changed for Liam and his family a few years ago.
I finally speak. “I should probably head back.”
He doesn’t push. Just says, “If you want to stay here tonight … you can. I’ve got a couple of rooms. You’d be safe and it’s free.”
I hesitate. My instinct is to say no. Not because I don’t want to. Being around him, in his space, feels like an invitation to something bigger than either of us are ready for.
But the look in his eyes isn’t about attraction. It’s about care. About not wanting me to face a night in that broken-down cabin alone.
“Just for tonight,” I say. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
Inside, the house is simple and lived-in. He leads me down a hallway, stopping in front of a door.
“This one’s Logan’s room. It hasn’t changed much. Or…” He scratches the back of his neck. “There’s a guest room across the hall. Your call.”
I don’t even think about it.
“This is fine,” I say. “If that’s okay?” It’s definitely a question, wondering is it alright to stay in Logan’s old space.
He nods. “Perfectly fine. Goodnight, Tessa.”
“Goodnight.”
I step into the room, close the door gently behind me, and lean backagainst it.
Everything is still. The bed is made, the posters on the wall faded but intact. There’s a football helmet on the dresser. A pair of running shoes tucked in the corner like someone planned to wear them again.
It’s like he’s just … paused.
I sit on the edge of the bed and rest my hand over the worn quilt.
“I didn’t know,” I whisper.
The room doesn’t answer. But somehow, I feel closer to Logan now than I have in years. I came back to clean out a cabin. I didn’t know I’d be walking through childhood memories.
I sit there a while, staring at the faint outlines of a life that ended too soon. The silence presses against me like a weight —not uncomfortable exactly, but too full. Too still. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this quiet ache curling around my chest.
After a few minutes, I slip off the bed and open the door. The hallway is dim, a soft glow spilling from the kitchen at theend. I hear the low clink of dishes, the soft sound of running water.
Liam.
I walk toward the kitchen. He’s standing at the sink, drying a plate with a faded dishtowel. His shoulders tense just slightly when he hears me approach, but he doesn’t turn.
“Hey,” I say softly.
He sets the plate in the rack and turns toward me. “You okay?”
I nod. “Yeah. I just … I realized I don’t have anything to sleep in. I left everything in my SUV.”
His brow furrows. “Want me to walk you over?”
“I was actually going to ask if you’d mind just … keeping an eye out? While I grab my bag?”
But he’s already wiping his hands and reaching for a flashlight on the counter.
