A Christmas wish

Chapter 5

Liam’s POV

The drive home felt longer than usual, even though I’d taken the same route a thousand times. Maybe it was because my knee throbbed with every small movement, pulsing in a slow, angry rhythm. The bandage the pharmacist wrapped around it was already warm under my jeans, and the pain medication in the small paper bag on the passenger seat rattled every time the car hit a bump.

I shouldn’t have fallen that hard earlier.

I shouldn’t have had a day like this at all.

By the time I pulled into my apartment complex, I was exhausted—not the kind of tired sleep could fix, but the kind that sat deep in the bones. The cold afternoon breeze greeted me as soon as I stepped out of the car, sharp enough to sting my cheeks and slip under my clothes. At least it kept me awake.

Inside, the quiet hit me immediately.

My apartment had never felt this silent, this loud. The sound of my own breathing echoed in the small hallway as I locked the door behind me.

I made it to the bathroom before I even took my jacket off.

The hot shower took a while to warm, but when the steam finally collected on the glass door, I sighed and stepped in. The first few seconds burned—pleasantly—loosening the tightness in my shoulders, washing away the cold clinging to my skin.

For a moment, I let myself lean my head against the tiled wall.

Just breathing.

Just existing.

Then everything I’d been trying to hold back started to creep in.

My father’s voice from this morning replayed in my head, unwanted and too clear:

“Your mother left. And… I’m sorry, Liam. For everything. I mean it.”

Seven years.

Seven years of silence.

Seven years of pretending I didn’t have parents because pretending hurt less.

And he calls now?

Because she left him?

My jaw clenched under the spray of water. I hated how easily his voice slipped under my skin, how effortlessly old wounds reopened even when I’d built an entire life trying to outrun them.

The water kept running. So did my thoughts.

I remembered the way Elena looked at me today—her face falling when she saw my knee, her eyes glistening when I told her I was leaving, the anger, the fear, the stubborn hope she refused to let go of.

“Give me one month, Liam. Just one.”

I’d agreed.

Why?

I wasn’t sure anymore.

Maybe because she was one of the few people who had ever fought for me.

I lifted my head enough to run my hands through my damp hair. The strawberry-blonde strands clung to my forehead.

And then another memory pushed in, sharp and intrusive.

Marcus’s voice.

His hand gripping my arm.

His eyes dark with something ugly.

My stomach twisted.

But right beside that—another face.

Another voice.

Elias.

God.

Even just thinking his name made my breath catch in a way I couldn’t explain.

The way he stepped in front of me, body tense, eyes sharp, voice steady.

The way his hand hovered near my shoulder, like he wanted to touch me but wasn’t sure he should.

The way he looked at me—like he actually saw me.

I closed my eyes, letting the steam blur the edges of my thoughts.

He was… beautiful.

Stupidly beautiful.

Short dark curls that softened his angular face.

A strong jaw dusted with faint stubble.

Eyes so warm, so intense, I felt them even after he walked away.

And that shirt—God.

That dark, fitted shirt that did absolutely nothing to hide the lines of his chest, the shape of his arms, the way his shoulders made him look steady enough to hold up the world.

I groaned under my breath, more at myself than anything.

I shouldn’t be thinking about him like this.

I didn’t even know him.

But I remembered the way his voice dipped when he said, “Are you okay?”

How gentle he sounded, despite the tension in his body.

I remembered how close he stood.

How his scent—warm, subtle, something clean and pine-like—wrapped around me for those few stolen seconds.

I remembered wanting him to stay.

To say something else.

To look at me again.

I pressed my fist lightly against my chest.

You’re ridiculous, Liam.

But the truth was—I hadn’t felt this way in a long time.

Maybe ever.

When the water finally started to cool, I shut it off and stepped out, wrapping a towel around my waist. The bathroom mirror was fogged, softening my reflection like it understood I couldn’t handle seeing myself clearly tonight.

I made my way to my bedroom, knee aching, mind buzzing. I pulled on sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, then sat on the edge of my bed, staring blankly at the wall.

The apartment felt even colder than before.

I rubbed the towel across my hair absentmindedly.

Elias.

The way he stepped between me and Marcus so fast.

The way his eyes lingered on me for half a second longer than necessary.

Why did he look so… familiar?

Was it just my imagination?

I pulled my blanket around my shoulders, still damp, still shaking a little from everything this day had shoved at me.

My gaze drifted to my phone on the nightstand.

I swallowed.

Maybe—maybe Elias was on the dating app too?

Maybe he was local?

Maybe—

I picked up my phone and stared at it like it might bite.

The dating app Elena forced me to download sat in the corner of my home screen, taunting me, glowing faintly like a bad idea with good intentions.

“This is stupid,” I whispered, but my thumb tapped the app anyway.

Messages.

Notifications.

A handful of matches.

None of them him.

Of course not.

Why would he be there?

I leaned back against my pillows and let out a shaky exhale.

I should’ve asked for his number.

I should’ve said something before he walked away.

I should’ve… I don’t know. Done something.

But I was too overwhelmed, too shaken, too me.

The regret hit harder than I expected.

My fingers tightened around my phone. “You’re being dramatic,” I muttered, even though I knew I wasn’t—this was the first flicker of interest, the first spark of anything, since everything fell apart.

Losing that felt unfair.

I set the phone aside and lay down, pulling the blanket up to my chin.

My knee throbbed.

My heart throbbed worse.

I closed my eyes, trying to breathe, trying to settle the tangle in my head.

Instead, I saw Elias again.

The curve of his mouth.

The tension in his shoulders.

The way his eyes softened when he looked at me.

And that warmth blooming in his gaze—like he wanted to know more.

I turned onto my side, burying half my face in the pillow.

Why him?

Why now?

The thought came uninvited:

He felt safe.

And that scared me.

Because safe things have a way of disappearing from my life.

Still, I couldn’t help whispering into the empty room, “I really… should’ve asked for your number.”

The silence that answered felt heavier than anything else today.

I didn’t know if I was ready for whatever Elena had planned next.

I didn’t know if I was ready for dating.

I didn’t know if I was ready for anything.

But for the first time in a very long time…

I wished I had one more moment with someone.

One more chance.

One more look.

One more question.

Just one.

And maybe—just maybe—one Christmas wish