The rest of the dinner was a blur of expensive steak that felt like lead in my stomach. My father and the scout were dissecting my life as if I were a prize horse they were preparing for the market. Chloe’s hand stayed in mine under the table, as if she could feel me drifting away and was trying to bring me to the version of Liam she needed me to be.
"You're very quiet tonight, Liam," the scout noted, leaning back. "He’s just focused," my father cut in smoothly.
"That’s his greatest asset. He doesn't get distracted by the noise. Right, son?"
"Right," I managed to say.
I didn't get back to the apartment until nearly eleven. The dinner hall had felt like a courtroom, and the drive back with Chloe had been even worse. She had talked about the beautiful future my father was planning for us
