Chapter 8 - THE LONGEST NIGHTTommy’s body was rejecting the transplant.
Doctors moved with terrifying speed.
Clara was no longer a nurse.
She was a sister.
That was worse.
She stood behind glass while strangers fought to save the boy she had raised.
Liam stayed beside her.
Hours passed.
At 2:00 a.m., Clara whispered, “I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“I’ve been doing this since I was twenty.”
Her voice broke.
“I’m tired.”
Liam took her hand.
“Then be tired.”
“What?”
“You don’t have to be strong tonight.”
She stared.
“I’ve got you.”
That broke her.
Clara collapsed against his chest.
Liam held her.
Once, he had believed strength meant standing alone.
Now he understood the opposite.
Sometimes strength meant becoming the place another person was allowed to fall.
Tommy survived the night.
Then the next.
On the third morning, his numbers stabilized.
A week later, he opened his eyes.
Clara leaned over him.
“Hey.”
Tommy blinked.
“You look awful.”
She burst into tears.
“You nearly die and that’s your opening line?”
“Was it good?”
“It was terrible.”
“Liam here?”
“He’s getting coffee.”
Tommy smiled faintly.
“He loves you.”
Clara froze.
“What?”
“Everyone knows.”
“Go back to sleep.”
“You love him too.”
“Tommy.”
“You get this weird face.”
“What face?”
“Like you want to kiss him and yell at him.”
Clara laughed.
“That is unfortunately accurate.”
Tommy closed his eyes.
“Marry him.”
“Recover first.”
“Bossy.”
“You started it.”
Months passed.
Tommy reached remission again.
Adrian accepted a plea agreement that included prison time.
Before surrendering, he visited Liam.
“You really leaving everything?”
“Yes.”
“Businesses too?”
“Only the illegal ones.”
Adrian smiled.
“Dad would hate you.”
“I know.”
“Proud?”
“Extremely.”
They hugged awkwardly.
Neither had learned how brothers were supposed to do that.
But they tried.
That was enough.
Liam sold the fortress.
Clara stared at him when he told her.
“You love that house.”
“No.”
“You own a wine cellar larger than my first apartment.”
“I don’t drink wine.”
“You have a movie theater.”
“I watch movies on my laptop.”
“Then why did you own it?”
Liam considered the question.
“Because my father thought big houses made people important.”
Clara smiled.
“And now?”
“I’d like somewhere with fewer bulletproof doors.”
“Progress.”
He bought a farmhouse outside Boston so they could remain near Tommy’s specialists.
Not small.
Liam did not understand small.
But warm.
Sunlight everywhere.
Clara inspected the master bedroom.
Floor-to-ceiling windows.
No blackout curtains.
She looked at him.
“Really?”
May you like
Liam smiled.
“Really.”
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