The days following the gallery opening passed in a blur of police statements and careful distance. Sophie had reported Marcus's behavior to the school administration, and his family's lawyer had quickly moved to pull him out before any real consequences could materialize. By Monday, he was gone—transferred to a private school in Boston, his parents' money and influence smoothing away any lasting damage to his record.
But the damage to Sophie was harder to erase.
She found herself replaying conversations in her head, analyzing every compliment for hidden manipulation, every touch for possessive intent. Had he ever genuinely cared about her work, or had it all been a calculated strategy to make her dependent on him? The uncertainty was exhausting.
Liam noticed. He noticed everything.
"You're spiraling," he said gently one afternoon as they sat in their usual spot at the library. "I can see it in the way you keep second-guessing yourself."
"How can I trust my own judgment?" Sophie asked quietly. "I missed all the signs with Marcus. What if I'm missing something else? What if I can't see people clearly at all?"
"You can." Liam reached across the table and took her hand. "You were young and hopeful and you wanted to believe in someone. That's not a character flaw, Sophie. That's being human."
Sophie looked at their intertwined hands, at the way Liam's thumb gently traced circles on her skin. Something shifted in her chest—a recognition that had been building for weeks, maybe months, maybe years.
"Liam," she said slowly, "what you said in that note. At my house. Did you mean all of it?"
Liam's entire body went rigid. His hand tensed in hers, and she could see the war happening behind his eyes—the struggle between honesty and self-protection.
"Yes," he finally said, his voice barely audible. "Every word."
Sophie's heart raced. "But you haven't brought it up since that night."
"Because you were dealing with enough," Liam said, releasing her hand and leaning back in his chair. "Because I didn't want to burden you with my feelings when you were trying to recover from what Marcus did to you."
"So you were just going to... what? Pretend forever?"
"I was going to wait until you were ready to hear it." Liam ran a hand through his dark hair. "And if you were never ready, I was going to accept that. Because having you in my life as a friend is better than not having you at all."
Sophie's eyes filled with tears. "You can't do that, Liam. You can't put your happiness on hold for me."
"Why not?" He leaned forward, his expression intense. "You've been doing it for me since we were kids. You've been there for every disappointment, every failure, every moment when I thought I wasn't good enough. The least I can do is give you space to figure out what you need."
"But what if what I need is—" Sophie stopped, unable to articulate the thought that had been growing in her mind.
"Is what?" Liam's voice was soft, hopeful.
"I don't know," Sophie whispered. "Everything with Marcus made me realize I was looking for validation in the wrong places. I was trying to become someone else's ideal instead of becoming my own person. And when I was with you at the gallery, when you were fighting for me even though I'd been awful to you, I realized—"
She paused, gathering courage.
"I realized that you've always made me feel like myself. Like my opinions matter, like my dreams matter, like I matter. Not because of what I can do or who I can become, but just because I'm me."
Liam's hands trembled slightly. "Sophie—"
"Let me finish," she said. "I'm not ready to say what I think you want me to say. I'm not ready to rush into anything or make grand declarations. But I think... I think I might want to find out if what you feel is real. If this thing between us could be something more than friendship."
A smile spread across Liam's face—slow and genuine and filled with such tenderness that Sophie's breath caught.
"That's all I'm asking for," he said. "A chance to find out."
Their first official date was awkward in the most endearing way possible.
Liam had planned everything carefully—dinner at a small Italian restaurant on the edge of town, nothing too fancy but nice enough to show he'd put thought into it. But somewhere between arriving and sitting down, his confidence seemed to evaporate.
He knocked over his water glass. Twice.
He got so nervous talking about his feelings that he accidentally told the waiter about his feelings instead of ordering.
"So you're really in love with this girl?" the waiter asked, clearly entertained.
"For years," Liam admitted, and Sophie felt her cheeks burn with a blush that had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with the way he was looking at her.
After dinner, they walked along the lake where they'd carved their initials years ago. The night was cold, and Sophie shivered despite her jacket. Without asking, Liam wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.
"Is this okay?" he asked tentatively.
"More than okay," Sophie said, leaning into him.
They walked in comfortable silence for a while, and then Liam spoke.
"I've been thinking about what you said. About not being ready for grand declarations. And I respect that. But I need you to know something." He stopped walking and turned to face her. "Whatever we become, whatever this is, I'm all in. I'm not going anywhere. You're it for me, Sophie. You've always been it."
Sophie looked up at him, at the boy who'd been her constant since childhood, who'd fought for her when she couldn't fight for herself, who'd waited patiently for her to catch up to what he'd apparently known all along.
"I think I'm starting to understand that," she said softly. "And I think... I think I might be catching up."
She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.
It was nothing like the fantasies she'd constructed in her head—there was no dramatic music, no perfect lighting, no choreographed movements. Liam's lips were slightly cold from the night air, and their noses bumped awkwardly, and somehow that made it perfect.
When they broke apart, Liam was grinning like an idiot.
"That was—" he started.
"Awkward?" Sophie supplied.
"Perfect," he corrected. "That was absolutely perfect."
The next few weeks unfolded like a dream. Liam and Sophie navigated the strange territory between friendship and romance, learning how to touch each other differently, how to look at each other with new understanding. It was terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure.
The school buzzed with gossip about their newfound relationship, but for once, Sophie didn't care what people thought. She was too busy discovering that Liam's hand fit perfectly in hers, that making him laugh still gave her the same rush it always had, that kissing him was becoming her favorite thing in the world.
One month after their first date, during their annual trip to the water tower, Liam did something that made Sophie's heart stop.
He pulled out a small velvet box.
"Don't panic," he said quickly, seeing her expression. "I'm not proposing. Not yet, anyway."
"Not yet?" Sophie laughed breathlessly.
"Maybe someday," Liam said, opening the box to reveal a delicate silver bracelet with a tiny camera charm. "But for now, I wanted to give you this. A reminder that you see the world in a way no one else does. That your vision matters. That you matter."
Sophie's eyes filled with tears as he fastened the bracelet around her wrist.
"I love you," she said, the words emerging before she'd fully processed them.
Liam's entire face transformed. "You do?"
"I do," Sophie confirmed. "I don't know exactly when it happened. Somewhere between hating you for being jealous and realizing that your jealousy came from love. But yes, Liam. I love you."
He kissed her then, and it felt like coming home.