The dinner had been unbearable. My sister’s gaze on Liam hadn’t wavered all evening, and no matter how subtle or fleeting her glances seemed to others, I noticed every single one of them. She had her own husband to look at, so why was she intent on Liam? The nerve of her.
Liam sat beside me at the long, elegantly set table, rigid and silent, as if he were carved from stone. His knee brushed mine under the table, and I pushed it away, a petty, irritated gesture he didn’t even seem to notice. His aloofness grated on me almost as much as my sister’s behavior.
I clenched my fork, forcing myself to breathe evenly. My mother-in-law’s melodic laugh rang from the head of the table, and I decided I needed a moment away from the tension. With a huff, I stood and crossed the room to her, letting a
