“I didn’t think you’d forgive me for what I said to you that day,” Liam begins with a guilty voice, cutting the silence that stretched between us for the last few minutes.
The room is dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting long shadows on the walls. The scent of antiseptic and faint traces of cologne linger in the air. Sofia, his sister, had decided to run errands when I arrived at their doorstep. I’d only meant to check up on him, but when I saw the exhaustion on her face, I agreed to keep a watch on him while she went away.
Liam lies on the bed in his room, one of his arms and legs encased in plaster. A crutch leans against the wall nearby. There’s a scar right under his left cheek where a piece of glass apparently cut him. The pain that flashes on his face every time h
