The apology came three days later in the form of Sophie's favorite flowers—sunflowers, bright and unapologetic—left on her front porch with a note in Liam's messy handwriting: *I'm sorry. I was a jerk. Can we talk?*
Sophie stared at the flowers for a long time, her heart torn between anger and longing. She wanted to be furious with him for the things he'd said, for the way he'd made her feel small and guilty for pursuing her dreams. But this was Liam. Her Liam. And it was impossible to stay angry at him for long.
She found him waiting at their usual meeting spot the next morning—the old oak tree by the lake where they'd first carved their initials years ago. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept, his dark hair tousled and his expression anxious.
Without a word, she walked into his arms, and he held her tight, his face pressed into her hair as if she might disappear if he let go.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm so sorry, Sophie. I had no right to say those things."
"You scared me," Sophie admitted, pulling back to look at him. "I've never seen you like that before."
"I know." Liam's brown eyes were rimmed with exhaustion. "And I hate that I did that to you. I hate that I made you feel guilty for wanting more."
"What's really going on, Liam?" Sophie asked gently. "This isn't just about Marcus, is it?"
Liam was quiet for a long moment, his jaw working as he struggled with something internal. "I don't know how to say this without sounding insane."
"Try."
He took a deep breath, and Sophie could see him gathering courage like a shield. "When did everything change between us? When did I start needing you this much? When did losing you become my biggest fear?"
Sophie's heart stuttered. "What do you mean?"
"I mean—" He stopped, running his hand through his hair in frustration. "Never mind. I can't do this. Not right now."
"Liam—"
"Let's just go back to normal, okay? Please?" There was desperation in his voice. "Can we just pretend the last few days didn't happen?"
Sophie wanted to push, to demand answers, but the vulnerability in his expression stopped her. Whatever was happening to him, he clearly wasn't ready to talk about it.
"Okay," she said softly. "We can pretend."
But they both knew they couldn't. The words had been spoken. The feelings had been acknowledged, even if not fully articulated. They'd crossed some invisible line, and there was no going back.
Over the next two weeks, Liam tried desperately to reclaim their friendship's previous ease, but it was like watching someone perform a role they no longer believed in. He'd laugh at her jokes, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He'd sit close to her, but his body remained tense, coiled like a spring ready to snap.
Meanwhile, Marcus's presence in Sophie's life only intensified. He texted her constantly. He showed up at her house with coffee and pastries. He attended her photography sessions and offered detailed critiques that somehow made her work feel more professional, more real.
"You have a portfolio showing next month," Marcus mentioned one afternoon as they worked on editing her latest photographs. "A local gallery is featuring young artists. I think you should submit your best work."
"I don't know," Sophie hesitated. "That seems like a big step."
"It is a big step." Marcus turned to her, his expression serious. "But you're ready for it. More than ready. You're meant for bigger things than this small town, Sophie. You know that, right?"
She nodded slowly. She did know that. She'd always known it. But hearing it confirmed by someone like Marcus—someone from the world she wanted to enter—made it feel real in a way it never had before.
"I'll help you with the submission," Marcus said, his hand finding hers. "I'll make sure your portfolio is absolutely perfect. And then, when the gallery is packed with people coming to see your work, I want to be the one standing next to you."
There was something in the way he said it—possessive and confident—that should have made Sophie uncomfortable. But instead, it thrilled her. He made her feel seen. He made her feel important.
She didn't notice Liam watching from across the room, his expression crumbling as he took in the casual intimacy of the moment.
At lunch the next day, Liam didn't show up at their usual table. Sophie waited for twenty minutes, her food growing cold, before she finally went looking for him.
She found him shooting hoops alone in the empty gymnasium, attacking the court with an intensity that bordered on violent. Sweat dripped down his temples, and his jaw was clenched so tight she worried his teeth might crack.
"Liam?" she called out.
He missed his next shot, the ball bouncing off the rim with a loud clang. He grabbed it mid-bounce and shot again, and again, each movement sharp with frustration.
"Liam, talk to me," Sophie said, moving closer.
"I'm fine," he said tersely, not looking at her. "Just needed to work out some energy."
"You've been avoiding me all week."
"I haven't been avoiding you. I've been giving you space."
"Space for what?"
He finally turned to face her, and she saw the raw emotion in his eyes before he shuttered it away. "Space to figure out what you want. And apparently, what you want is Marcus Sterling."
"That's not fair."
"Isn't it?" Liam tossed the basketball into the rack with more force than necessary. "He's been all over you for weeks, Sophie. Everyone can see it. Everyone in this school can see that he's marked you as his territory."
"Marked me as his territory?" Sophie's voice rose. "I'm not property, Liam. I'm a person. And he's been supportive and kind and genuinely interested in my career."
"He's interested in you because you're someone he can control. Someone who will be grateful to him for opening doors that you should be able to open yourself."
"And what would you know about it?" Sophie snapped. "You've barely been civil to him since he got here. You haven't even given him a chance."
"I don't need to give him a chance." Liam's voice was low and dangerous. "I can see exactly what he is. He's the kind of guy who swoops in, makes you feel special, makes you feel like you need him, and then—"
"And then what?"
"And then he gets bored. Or he decides you're not worth the effort anymore. Guys like him always do."
Sophie stared at him, hurt and angry tears pricking at her eyes. "You think I'm incapable of seeing through someone? You think I'm stupid enough to be manipulated?"
"That's not what I said."
"It's exactly what you said." Sophie's voice shook. "You don't trust me, Liam. You think you know better than I do about my own life, about my own feelings."
"That's not true—"
"Isn't it?" She threw his own words back at him. "You're just like everyone else in this town. You want me to stay small, to stay local, to stay dependent on you. Well, I don't want that anymore. I want more. I deserve more."
Liam flinched like she'd struck him. "Sophie—"
"I have to go," she said, turning away. "Marcus is waiting for me."
She heard him call her name as she left the gymnasium, but she didn't look back.
That evening, Sophie was in her bedroom working on her portfolio submissions when her mother knocked on the door.
"Hey, sweetie. Liam's here. He's been outside for ten minutes."
Sophie's heart leaped into her throat, but she forced herself to stay calm. "Tell him I'm busy."
"Sophie—"
"Please, Mom."
She heard her mother sigh, heard the murmur of voices downstairs, heard the door close. A few minutes later, her phone buzzed with a text from Liam: *I deserve that. But please read what I wrote you. Please.*
Attached was a note, written in his careful handwriting:
*I know I don't have the right to ask this. I know I've been awful and jealous and everything you said I was. But I need you to understand something. This isn't about Marcus, not really. This is about me being terrified of losing the most important person in my life. This is about me realizing that somewhere along the way, you became everything to me, and I don't know how to be without you. I've spent my whole life loving you, and I'm finally starting to understand that what I feel isn't friendship anymore. I'm sorry for being a coward about it. I'm sorry for making it your problem when it's my burden to carry. You deserve someone who's secure enough in themselves to support you without needing anything in return. Someone better than me. But God, Sophie, I'm not sure I can watch you fall in love with someone else and survive it.*
Sophie read the note three times, her hands shaking. Every word felt like a confession and an apology wrapped together. She wanted to run to him, to tell him he was wrong, that he was enough. But she was also angry at him for feeling entitled to her feelings, for making his love her responsibility.
She texted back: *I need space, Liam. I need to think.*
His response came immediately: *Okay. Take all the time you need. I'll be here whenever you're ready.*
Sophie set her phone down and buried her face in her hands. Everything was falling apart, and she didn't know how to fix it.