Chapter 8 Withdrawal Syndrome

• Liam's P.O.V.
• My morning had started out in an unusual way. I wasn’t used to waking up to a pounding head, waking up on the couch or wearing my previous day's clothes to bed.
• The way my day had started out was enough to put me in a bad mood throughout the day, but I had no one to blame but myself.
• I had crashed out and the person who triggered me was avoiding me like a plague.
• The pounding in my head hadn’t even eased one bit, even after two cups of coffee and a cold shower that should have lessened the burn under my skin. But nothing worked, not when the real reason for my irritation was sitting just outside my office, trying my possible best to pretend I didn’t exist.
• That fucker Noah, was hell-bent on keeping a distance from me, which was strange because I was the one who had planned on keeping my distance.
• I had convinced myself I wanted that, that I needed that.
• But the moment I stepped into the office and caught a glimpse of him moving across the hall, his head low, shoulders tense, something in me twisted painfully.
• My feelings were everywhere once again, and I was hit with the need to touch him once more. What was this sickness?
• It felt like I was an addict who was having withdrawal symptoms, and it was killing me.
• Noah was occupying every aspect of my body, he was deep within my skin, crawling underneath it and leaving me restless and unable to stop thinking about him.
• I didn’t know why I was feeling this way.
• Maybe it was because I had expected him to confront me, to have questions after last night. After I had defended him, I walked out on Veronica, and told my mother—my own damn mother, to back off.
• But he said nothing.
• Did nothing and that infuriated me.
• After everything he had put me through, the pain he had caused me. How dare he act like I didn’t exist?
• Who the fuck was he to act that way towards me?
• He owed me a damn apology but here he was acting like a damn brat. He had told me he hadn’t gotten the letter I had written to him a few years back, the one I had meant for him to see, but I didn’t want him to see it anymore, but that wasn’t enough for me to let it go.
• That was me being vulnerable, and I didn’t want him to see me that way. He shouldn’t. I was a different person now—different from the one version that should have remained buried, the version of me that once believed in happy endings.
• But that didn’t exist. Happiness was a useless term.
• Talk about fuck ups.
• I clenched my jaw, gripping the edge of my desk as I exhaled sharply. It was ridiculous how much space he occupied in my head. Even now, as I stared at my laptop screen, my focus was shot.
• The knock at my office door was barely registered in my mind until the door pushed open without my permission.
• “You’re in a mood,” Veronica’s voice pierced through my thoughts, followed by the sharp click of her heels against the floor.
• I didn’t look up. “Do you need something?”
• The stunt she pulled last night was still fresh in my mind, and I wasn’t ready to let it go.
• “Just checking in,” she said sweetly, but I knew better than to fall for this act of hers. "You stormed off last night and left me stranded. That was quite the scene you caused, babe.”
• I shut my laptop with more force than necessary. “Don’t call me that.”
• “Fine,” she huffed, rolling her eyes at me. "But your mother is furious. She’s been calling me nonstop, trying to figure out why her perfect son is suddenly going off script.”
• I pinched the bridge of my nose, exhaling slowly. “I’m not in the mood for this, Veronica.”
• "No, you’re just in the mood to play hero for Noah," she spat his name like it was a curse. "Honestly, Liam, the way you defended him last night was pathetic. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you still have feelings for him."
• This was her damn cousin and I still couldn’t figure out why she hated him so much.
• My grip on the desk tightened, but I forced a neutral expression. “If you have nothing useful to say, get out.”
• She scoffed, crossing her arms. “Whatever. Just remember, your mother gets what she wants. You and I? We’re inevitable.”
• With that, she turned and strutted out, slamming the door behind her.
• I let out a slow breath, trying to shake off the anger creeping up my spine.
• But then, another knock came, softer this time.
• “Come in,” I said, expecting another round with Veronica.
• The door opened and Noah stepped into the room and fuck if that didn’t throw me off completely.
• His presence filled the room like a cloud, the kind that covers the sky with nothing left to see, thick and everywhere. It dominates every inch of my office, the scent of his perfume holding me in a choke-hold.
• He didn’t move from the doorway, his fingers gripping the frame like he was contemplating whether to enter.
• I forced myself to meet his eyes, searching for something, anything that would tell me what he was thinking, but I could only come up with nothing.
• “I need a word,” he said finally, his voice quieter than usual.
• I leaned back in my chair, feigning indifference even as I was on the edge. “About?”
• His jaw twitched. “The deal with Hargrove. There’s an issue with the contract.”
• A part of me wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t. It was an effort to keep my mask on, and I didn’t want to ruin that. Laughing would keep me out of default.
• Was this how he wanted to play it? Like nothing happened? Like he hadn’t pretended I didn’t exist after I stood up for him?
• “Handle it,” I said coolly.
• His expression didn’t change, but my eyes zeroed on the way his hands clenched into fists. “I need your approval on a revision before I send it out.”
• “Email it.”
• His lips pressed into a thin line. “Liam—”
• “I don’t have time for this, Noah,” I cut him off, standing up and walking to the window. “I have a meeting in ten minutes.”
• Silence.
• I felt it then. The hesitation, the war in his head. And then, just when I thought he would leave, his voice came through.
• “Did you mean it?” he asked quietly.
• I turned, frowning. “Mean what?”
• “Last night.” His voice was raw now, like he was barely keeping himself together. “What you said, what you did.”
• A muscle ticked in my jaw and I rebuked the feeling trying to crawl up to my mind. “What does it matter?”
• Noah let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Of course. That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it? Pretend it doesn’t matter, pretend I don’t matter—”
• “You don’t,” I snapped before I could stop myself.
• The second the words left my mouth, I regretted them immediately and wished I could take them back.
• Fuck, what have I done?!
• Noah flinched, but he masked it quickly, his face going blank.
• "Noah, I didn’t—"
• “Right,” he cut off, stepping back. “Good to know where we stand.”
• He turned to leave, and for a split second, panic flared in my chest.
• I wanted to call him back, to tell him I hadn’t meant it, that of course he mattered, that he was the only thing that had ever mattered.
• But before I could, he was gone and, for the first time in years, I felt the terrifying weight of losing him all over again.
• I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have let him believe that he didn’t matter to me.
• I slumped back into my chair, staring blankly at the door he had just walked out of.
• We were getting somewhere, not on the right path, but we were finding our footing, we were no longer that tense with each other and I had managed to ruin the little progress we had made within a minute.
• My office phone rang, and I picked it up without thinking.
• “Liam Hayes speaking,” I muttered.
• “Mr Hayes,” the receptionist's voice wavered slightly. “There’s… um, someone here to see you. He says it’s urgent.”
• I sighed, rubbing my temple. “Who is it?”
• A pause.
• Then her words cut through me next.
• “He says his name is Theo.”
• The room spun and I gripped my desk.
• Theo.
• As in him, as in the man who had ruined everything, the man who shattered my dreams and kept me away from Noah.
• And now, he was back, and I wasn’t ready to see him, not after what he had done, not after how he had broken me without realizing.
• Liam Hayes was ruthless. That was how I acted. That was what people knew but what they didn’t know was that I was broken and forged by the people who were supposed to comfort me.
• “Send him out and keep him out of my building.”