Always

Chapter Eleven

Liam

It’s been three weeks.

Three weeks since the beach. Three weeks since the whispers started. Three weeks of proving—mostly to myself—that this isn’t something I’m going to run from.

And I haven’t.

If anything, it’s the opposite.

I’m trying harder in class. Showing up on time. Keeping my head down when people try to bait me into something stupid. Not because Mia asked me to.

She didn’t.

But because when she looks at me, I see something I don’t want to lose.

Tonight, she’s in my room, cross-legged on the floor with her textbooks spread out around her like always. The lamp casts a soft glow over her notes, and she’s chewing on the end of her pen while she reads.

“You know,” I say from my bed, “most girlfriends don’t come over to study on a Friday night.”

She doesn’t look up. “Most boyfriends don’t offer to quiz them on cellular respiration.”

I grin. “I’m full of surprises.”

She finally glances at me, smiling. “You are.”

I slide off the bed and sit across from her, picking up one of her flashcards. “Okay, future doctor. Explain this like I’m five.”

She launches into an explanation, animated and confident, hands moving as she talks. I don’t understand half of it, but I love listening anyway. The way her eyes light up when she talks about her dreams makes something in my chest tighten.

“You’re going to get out of here,” I say quietly when she finishes.

Her smile falters slightly. “That’s the plan.”

“And you’re going to be incredible.”

She studies me like she’s trying to decide if I believe that.

“I don’t want you to feel stuck because of me,” she says softly.

The words land heavier than I expect.

“Mia.”

“I mean it. College. Scholarships. You can’t—”

“I’m not holding you back,” I cut in, firm but calm. “And you’re not dragging me forward. We choose where we go. Together or separate. But not because we’re scared.”

Silence settles between us.

Her biggest fear isn’t rumors.

It’s the future.

“What if we want different things?” she whispers.

I think about that for a second. Really think about it.

“Then we figure it out,” I say. “We’ve been figuring things out since we were five. This is just… the upgraded version.”

She lets out a small laugh at that.

I reach forward and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re not my anchor, Mia. You’re my reason to try.”

Her eyes soften in a way that makes my throat tighten.

She leans forward, pressing her forehead to mine.

“We’re really doing this,” she murmurs.

“Yeah,” I reply. “We are.”

And for the first time, the future doesn’t feel like something chasing us.

It feels like something we’re walking toward—side by side.