Find Your Own North

Chapter 5: The Sunset Standoff.

The 6:00 PM sun was a bruised purple and orange by the time I met Liam at the park entrance. Usually, this was our "decompression hour," where we’d vent about our days until we felt light again. But today, the air felt heavy.

Liam was leaning against a lamppost, his hands buried deep in his pockets. He wasn't looking at his phone; he was just staring at the path ahead.

"The croissant was delicious, by the way," I said, trying to break the ice as I fell into step beside him.

"Glad you enjoyed it," he replied. Short. Clipped. Not the Liam I knew.

We walked in silence for a few minutes, the sound of our sneakers on the gravel the only conversation between us. I kept thinking about Julian. He had left a small, hand-painted bookmark on my desk before I left—a "welcome gift," he called it. It was thoughtful, and I couldn't deny that the attention felt nice. It was easy. It didn't come with ten years of baggage and the fear of losing a best friend.

"So," Liam said, his voice cutting through my thoughts. "Julian seems… thorough."

"He's just new, Liam. He’s trying to make friends."

"Is that what he’s trying to do?" Liam stopped walking and turned to face me. "Because from where I was standing, he looked like he was trying to stake a claim on your lunch hour."

"And what if he was?" I challenged, crossing my arms. "It’s just lunch. Why are you acting like I’m committing a crime?"

"I’m not," he snapped, then immediately softened, looking away. He dragged a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. "It’s just... we have a rhythm, Maya. I don't like seeing someone walk in and try to disrupt it with a suit and a fake smile."

"It's not a fake smile. He's actually very kind," I said, a little more defensively than I intended. "He noticed I use paper scraps to mark my books and gave me a real bookmark today. It was a nice gesture."

Liam’s expression shifted. It wasn't anger anymore; it was something that looked a lot like pain. "A bookmark. Wow. I guess I’ve been doing it all wrong by bringing you coffee every morning for three years."

"That’s not what I meant!" I reached out to touch his arm, but he stepped back, just an inch.

"I know what you meant," he said quietly. "He’s the new guy. He’s shiny. He doesn't know your coffee order or the fact that you cry at laundry detergent commercials, but he’s 'kind.'"

"Liam, stop." My heart was racing. "You're my best friend. No one is replacing you."

"That’s the problem, Maya," he whispered, looking directly into my eyes. The intensity there was so raw it made me want to look away, but I couldn't. "I don't want to be the guy you just 'don't replace.' I don't want to be a category."

He didn't wait for me to respond. He started walking again, faster this time, leaving me standing in the middle of the path. I watched his back, my mind spinning. I told myself that I liked the attention Julian gave me—that it was simpler, safer. But as I watched Liam walk away, the thought of Julian’s "kindness" felt like a paper thin substitute for the man who knew the deepest parts of my soul.

I wasn't falling for Liam. I couldn't be. That would change everything, and I wasn't ready for the world to change. Not yet.