Isla nestled comfortably in Liam’s lap, the warmth of his body enveloping her like a soft blanket. They were in his room, a sanctuary filled with the scent of cedar and the faintest hint of cologne. The late afternoon sun streamed through the large windows, casting a golden glow over everything. Liam’s fingers grazed her skin lightly, sending shivers of delight through her. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, but a thought nagged at her.
“Liam,” she began, her voice soft but curious, “why don’t you invite your parents to the wedding?”
At her question, Liam froze, his fingers pausing mid-graze. The lightness in the room shifted, and Isla could feel the tension radiating from him. He took a deep breath, his expression turning serious. “They’re probably somewhere doing something they refuse to tell me,” he replied, his voice low. “It’s been five years since I’ve seen them.”
Isla’s heart sank at the pain in his voice. “Oh,” she said softly, unsure of how to respond. She had hoped to
