I Was The Spare Seat The Spare Gift And The Spare Bride novel Chapter 08
My hands paused. I looked up. “What do you mean?”
“Liam.” She leaned against the doorframe, casual. “That day-at the hotel entrance. I confessed to him. Told him I regretted it, that I wanted to be with him again.” Her eyes bored into mine. “He turned me down.”
I froze.
“Then he searched for you-a whole month.” “He went everywhere you could possibly be. Finally ended up here.” She straightened, hands in her pockets, a hint of something unreadable in her gaze. “So-how does it feel to win against me for once?”
The clay slowed on the wheel. I stepped on the pedal and let it spin again. “I don’t feel anything good.”
Naomi tilted her head. “Why?”
I looked down at the clay, my voice soft. “Over twenty years-I was always second to him. The one time I get picked, am I supposed to celebrate?”
Naomi said nothing.
“Naomi.” I met her eyes. “Go home. I know I’ll never be better than you-I’ve known that all my life. I’m not trying to compete anymore.”
“You keep being everyone’s golden girl. I’ll stay here and build my own little light. It’s not much, but it’s mine.”
“I’m done being the one who gets whatever’s left.”
Naomi opened her mouth, then snorted. “Ella. You’re a loser compared to me-don’t act like some philosopher.”
She turned and walked out. Her heels clicked on the stone path-one beat at a time, like a heartbeat.
The studio door stayed open. Liam was standing at the threshold, holding something. I looked up. He didn’t step in-just stayed outside the door. “Ella.”
I didn’t answer.
He walked in and set the thing on my worktable. The pink diamond necklace. “I got it back. Only one-no need to choose. It’s yours.”
I looked at that necklace-pink diamonds catching the light, throwing tiny sparks. Beautiful. I used to dream that one day, Liam would pick something just for me. But even now, it was Naomi’s castoff.
“No thanks. Give it to Naomi, or keep it-whatever.”
Liam’s throat bobbed. He seemed to want to say something, but he didn’t get the chance. Footsteps at the door-Owen came in with Miles.
He saw Liam standing in the studio and paused for half a second. Then, wordlessly, we fell into our routine-teaching Miles how to shape clay.
We talked about pottery, about how much Miles was improving. Liam couldn’t get a word in. Owen reached over and wiped a smudge of clay off my face.
Liam’s composure cracked. He stormed out.
But the next day, he came back. And the day after that. On the fourth day, he didn’t come-but his car sat at the end of the alley, from afternoon until dark.
Every day, he brought a different gift. “Just one-each one picked for you.”
I threw every single one in the trash. “Liam. It’s too late-really.”
His voice cracked. “Ella-I don’t believe you love him. You loved me for years. You can’t just drop that.”
I set down my clay and stood up to face him. “Liam. You know how many years I loved you, right?”
His face went pale.