Chapter 5

Over breakfast, I couldn’t stop smiling. Finally, I’d met my daughter. But Liam didn’t seem happy. He was quiet, pushing his food around instead of eating. I couldn’t stop watching him, trying to read his expression.

I thought meeting Lila would be a celebration, but Liam’s discomfort was obvious. The tension from last night had carried over, and now it seemed like he was avoiding eye contact.

“Is something wrong?” I asked, unable to stand the silence.

Liam glanced up, then quickly looked away. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just… tired.”

“Tired?” I raised a brow. “You’ve barely said a word all morning.”

He exhaled, pushed his plate aside, and stood up. “I’m not in the mood for a conversation right now, Emma.”

I watched him walk away, my stomach tight. I should be the one mad at him for keeping me from Lila, but he acted like I was doing something wrong. I scoffed, trying to shake off my frustration. I wasn’t going to let it ruin my morning. I had finally met my daughter, and that was worth celebrating.

The rest of the day, I focused on learning everything about Lila. I felt guilty for losing my memory of her, and Mia, her nanny, seemed to know everything.

“She’s sweet, but a little shy,” Mia said. “She loves her stuffed bunny. Doesn’t go anywhere without it.”

That stuck with me. I’d noticed the bunny, too. I also learned that Lila was mute, which explained why she hadn’t responded to me earlier. My heart ached, realizing how much I’d missed.

Later, I found Lila sitting alone in the garden. The sunlight caught her curly hair, and my heart swelled. I was her mom—this was my daughter. I knelt in front of her, trying to be gentle.

“Hey, Lila,” I said softly. “It’s me… Mom.”

The word felt strange, but it was right. She didn’t respond, just stared at me with wide brown eyes. I could almost hear her thinking: ‘She didn’t remember me—how could she?’

I helped her pick flowers and braided them into her hair. She was hesitant but let me.

From then on, I focused only on Lila. After her private classes, I’d bring her lunch and spend time with her. With Mrs. Keller’s help, I started learning sign language, hoping to communicate with my daughter.

That evening, I was sitting on the plush rug in Lila’s room, reading one of her storybooks. Lila sat beside me, clutching her bunny. She didn’t speak, but when she smiled faintly, my chest warmed.

Suddenly, I heard a knock. Liam stood in the doorway.

“Emma,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Can we talk?”

I didn’t look up. “I’m busy,” I said, flipping a page. “Spending time with our daughter—something you should’ve let me do sooner.”

Liam sighed, stepping further into the room. “Please, Emma. It’s important.”

I glanced at Lila, who was watching us with curious eyes. I didn’t want to upset her, so I closed the book and gave her a smile. “I’ll be right back, sweetheart.”

I followed Liam into the quiet hallway. “What is it, Liam? I was having a good moment.”

He hesitated, then spoke quietly. “You seemed happy. With Lila.”

“I am happy,” I snapped. “Though it’s a little late for you to care about that, don’t you think?”

Liam stepped closer. “You’re angry.”

I was about to lash out, but before I could, he said something that caught me off guard. “I messed up, Emma. I’m sorry.”

My mind went blank. He lowered his head, like a child being scolded. His voice was barely a whisper. “How do I make it up to you?”

My heart raced. “Move me into your room.”

Liam frowned. “Emma, that’s—”

I cut him off. “I’m not asking. You want to make it right? Prove it. Act like my husband.”

His jaw tightened, but after a pause, he exhaled, rubbing his hand through his hair. “Fine. If that’s what you want.”

I smiled and hugged Liam tightly. “I’ll move my things tonight.”

That evening, the maid helped me move some of my things into Liam’s room. After settling in, I took a quick shower.

Once I was out, I slipped into a silk nightgown. It fell just above my knees. I wasn’t trying to make a statement, but the fabric clung to my skin, highlighting every curve.

When I stepped out, Liam was sitting on the edge of the bed. His eyes widened slightly when he saw me, but he quickly looked away.

I pretended not to notice and walked over to the dresser to brush my hair. Through the mirror, I saw him stand up and head toward the bathroom as the shower turned on.

Once I finished, I flopped onto the bed and sighed.

The bed felt even more comfortable than mine. I closed my eyes for a second, but my mind started racing. The sound of the shower stopping made my heart skip a beat.

I started having dirty thoughts.

We were married, so we must have done it before.

My cheeks flushed, and I turned to my side, burying my face in my hands. Why was I thinking about this? We were married. It was normal. So we must’ve—

I squirmed, biting my lip. How could I forget something like that? Was it awkward? Was I bad at it? No way, I must’ve been fine. But what if he wanted to again?

I suddenly felt nervous. What if he expected me to? What if I wasn’t ready? Or was I?

Just then, the bathroom door creaked open, and Liam stepped out in just a towel, water dripping down his chest and abs.

I froze, staring. Why was he built like that? Was I married to a Greek god and forgot?

Liam didn’t seem to notice. He ran a hand through his damp hair and looked around. His gaze landed on me. “You okay?”

I panicked and scooted back, but I didn’t realize I was at the edge of the bed.

“Wait—!” I yelped as the mattress gave way, and I tumbled to the floor with a thud.

“Emma!” Liam was at my side in a second, looking concerned. “Are you okay?”

I groaned, rubbing the back of my head. “I think so,” I muttered, still a little dazed.

Before I could fully process what was happening, Liam leaned in, inspecting me. His closeness made my heart race. I blinked up at him, suddenly very aware of his face, his damp hair, and his lips—oh no.

That’s when the panic hit.

I tried to move away but wasn’t quick enough. My hand pressed against his chest to push him back, but in my haste, I lost my balance. Liam, caught off guard, stumbled backward onto the bed.

Before I knew it, I was on top of him with a muffled oof.