Erased vows

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I sat frozen on the edge of the bed, the phone’s glow burning my eyes, that message scarred into my brain.

*Stay away from Liam or you’ll end up like your mom.*

My hands shook, the air too thick to breathe. The sea roared outside, mocking me with its endless waves.

My mom’s death was sharp, sudden, and a house fire they called an accident had always felt wrong, like a puzzle with missing pieces.

Now someone was tying it to Liam, to us, and the threat felt like a blade at my throat. I wanted to scream, to call Aunt Natty, to run to Liam’s room and beg him to remember me. But I just sat there, heart pounding, the world tilting under me.

Should I tell Liam about the threats? But how do I explain all these?

A soft knock at the door snapped me out of it. My breath caught, pulse spiking. It was midnight and nobody should be here. The phone slipped from my hand, landing on the sheets. I stood, legs shaky, and crept to the door, the marble floor cold under my bare feet.

“Who’s there?” I whispered, my voice thin.

“It’s me,” came Liam’s voice, low and rough, like he’d been fighting sleep or something worse.

My heart lurched. I fumbled with the lock, my fingers clumsy, and pulled the door open.

There he was, standing in the dim hallway, wearing a plain gray T-shirt and sweatpants, his hair messy like he’d been running his hands through it. His eyes were heavy, shadowed, not the sharp CEO from dinner but someone raw, and I could feel the warmth around him.

“Liam?” I said, gripping the doorframe. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer right away, just looked at me, his gaze heavy like it was trying to pull answers from my face. “I… I couldn’t sleep,” he said finally, voice barely above a whisper. “Can I come in?”

I stepped back, nodding, my throat too tight to speak. He walked in, his presence filling the room, the air shifting like it always did when he was close. I shut the door, the click loud in the quiet. The sea’s hum drifted through the open balcony doors, mixing with the faint buzz of cicadas. My phone lay on the bed, that message still glowing, but I turned it facedown, not ready for him to see it. Not yet.

He stood by the balcony, hands in his pockets, staring out at the dark sea like it might tell him something. “I keep having these dreams,” he said, not looking at me.

“Nightmares, really. Almost every night since the accident.” His voice was low, jagged, like he was pulling the words from somewhere deep. “There’s this woman in them. She’s always there, but I can’t see her face. It’s like… like she’s blurred out. Like my brain won’t let me see her.”

My chest squeezed, air trapped in my lungs. I took a step closer, the floor creaking under me. “What does she do in the dreams?” I asked, my voice soft, afraid to push too hard.

He turned to me then, his eyes catching the dim light, full of something desperate. “She’s calling me, Nita. Her voice it’s so clear, like I know it better than my own, she lives rent-free in my head. She’s reaching for me, but when I try to grab her hand, she’s gone. And then I’m falling, or drowning, or stuck in this… this dark place where I can’t move.” He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers shaking. “It’s driving me crazy. I wake up feeling like I’ve lost something, but I don’t know what.”

There was a long pause.

“Some nights are good nights,” he continued “I see us playing around.”

I swallowed hard, my heart hammering. That voice ‘my’ voice, the one he’d called home just hours ago. I wanted to tell him it was me, that I was the woman in his dreams, the one he’d married, the one he’d loved before the crash stole it all. But the words stuck, heavy as stones. Instead, I said, “That sounds awful, Liam. Do you… Do you ever see anything else? Anything that feels real?”

He leaned against the balcony railing, the wind tugging at his shirt. “Sometimes there’s a place. A cliff, like this one, with the sea crashing below. Or a room with candles, soft music, her laugh…” He stopped, his jaw tightening. “It’s so close, but it slips away every time I try to hold it. Like my head’s fighting me.”

I moved closer, close enough to feel the warmth of him, the faint scent of his soap mixing with the salt air. “Maybe your mind’s trying to tell you something,” I said, my voice barely steady. “Maybe it’s… someone you knew.”

His eyes snapped to mine, sharp and searching. “You think so?” he asked, like he was grabbing onto the idea. “Sometimes I feel like I know her. Like she’s the key to everything I’ve lost.” He paused, his gaze softening. “Your voice tonight, when you spoke at dinner… It was like hers. It hit me hard, Nita. Like a memory I can’t reach.”

My knees went weak, and I gripped the back of a chair to steady myself. He was so close to the truth, but so far, and I didn’t know how to bridge that gap without breaking us both. “Liam,” I started, my voice cracking, “what if—”

Another knock at the door cut me off, sharp and loud. I froze, my pulse spiking again. Liam’s head whipped toward the sound, his body tensing like he was ready for a fight. “You expecting someone?” he asked, voice low.

“No,” I whispered, my eyes darting to the phone on the bed. That message flashed in my mind— *Stay away from Liam or you’ll end up like your mom.* My stomach twisted. “Stay here,” I said, moving to the door, my heart in my throat.

I cracked it open, peering into the hallway. Empty. Just shadows and the hum of the night. But on the floor, right at my feet, was a folded piece of paper. My hands shook as I picked it up, unfolding it under the hallway light.

Scrawled in black ink were the words: *You were warned.*

I slammed the door shut, locking it, my breath coming fast. Liam was at my side in a second, his hand on my arm. “Nita, what is it?” he demanded, his voice sharp now, all traces of exhaustion gone.

I held out the note, my hand trembling so bad the paper shook. He took it, his eyes scanning the words, his face hardening. “What the hell is this?” he said, looking at me like he could see the fear crawling under my skin. “Who’s doing this to you?”

“I don’t know,” I said, my voice breaking. “I got a text tonight, right before you came. It said… it said to stay away from you, or I’d end up like my mom.” The words spilled out, raw and jagged. “She died years ago, Liam. A house fire. They said it was an accident, but now… I don’t know.”

His eyes widened, something fierce flashing in them. “Someone’s threatening you because of me?” He stepped closer, his hand still on my arm, grounding me. “Anita, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t know how!” I snapped, the fear and frustration boiling over. “You don’t know me, Liam. You won't understand. And now someone’s out there, watching, and I’m scared, okay? I’m scared they’ll hurt you, or me, or…” I stopped, my voice choking off, tears burning my eyes.

He stared at me, his face a mix of shock and something deeper, like he was seeing me for the first time. “Hurt me?” he repeated, voice soft but heavy. “Where do I come in?”

I froze, my heart slamming against my ribs. I hadn’t meant to say it, not like this, not now. But the words were out, hanging between us like a live wire. I opened my mouth, trying to find a way to explain, to backtrack, but nothing came. The truth was too big, too raw, and I was terrified it would break him.

He stepped closer, his hand tightening on my arm, not hard but firm, like he was anchoring himself. “Anita, what aren’t you telling me?” His voice was low, urgent, his eyes searching mine like they could pull the truth out. “The dreams, the voice, this… this feeling I can’t shake. It’s all tied to you, isn’t it?”

I swallowed, my throat dry as sand. The note was still in his hand, the threat real and close.

I whispered, “There’s so much you don’t know. About me. About us. But I can’t… I don’t know how to tell you without making things worse.”

“Try,” he said, his voice almost a plea. “Please, Anita. I’m losing my mind here. These dreams, the woman, now this, I must be crazy.”

My heart cracked open, tears spilling down my cheeks. I wanted to tell him everything about our wedding, the promises, the life we’d planned before the crash took it all. But that note, that text, they were warnings, and I didn’t know who was watching or how close they were. “You’re not crazy,” I said finally, my voice barely there. “But it’s not safe to talk about it now. Not here.”

He stared at me, his face torn between frustration and something softer, something that looked like the old Liam, the one who’d loved me. “Then when?” he asked. “I can’t keep living like this, feeling like everyone is walking on eggshells around me.”

I reached out, my hand brushing his, a spark shooting through me at the touch. “Soon,” I said, my voice shaking. “I promise. Just… stay close tonight, okay? I’m scared, too.”

He nodded, his hand closing around mine, warm and solid. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his voice steady now, like he was making a vow. He glanced at the note again, his jaw tightening. “And whoever’s doing this? They’re not touching you. I won’t let them.”

We stood there, hands locked, the sea’s roar filling the silence. My phone buzzed again on the bed, but I didn’t move to check it. Liam was here, real and close, his nightmares pulling him toward me even if his mind didn’t know why. The threat was out there, circling like a shark, but for now, we were together, and that was enough to keep me standing.

I slept in his arms, just like we used to.