Chapter 7: My Jealous Husband

The moment we left the restaurant, Liam didn’t say a single word.

Not one.

He opened the passenger door for me, waited until I stepped inside, and shut it with a firm click before walking around to the driver’s side.

As he started the engine, I turned to look at him. He stared straight ahead at the road, his jaw set in a rigid line.

I leaned in a little closer, searching his profile. Still nothing.

A slow, playful smile spread across my face. Oh, this was going to be fun.

“Were you jealous?” I asked, tilting my head.

His hands tightened slightly around the steering wheel. “No.”

“You definitely looked jealous.”

“I was not.”

“Then why did you come all the way there?”

“Like I said before, I happened to be nearby.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Silence.

I turned my body toward him. “You drove forty minutes.”

“I had a meeting.”

“With whom?”

“Someone.”

“Very convincing, Mr. Montgomery.”

Liam let out a heavy sigh, his grip on the wheel turning his knuckles white.

I covered my mouth, desperately holding back a giggle. “You’re absolutely terrible at lying, Lee.”

His hands froze on the wheel for half a second. He glanced at me, his eyes flickering with a tiny wave of surprise. “What did you just call me?”

“Lee,” I said naturally.

His expression shifted into something unreadable, a faint trace of nostalgia mixing with his irritation. “You haven’t called me that in years.”

I blinked. “I haven’t?”

“No.”

“Huh...” I turned back toward the window, watching the city lights blur past.

Lee. The name had slipped out so effortlessly, as if it had been sitting in the quietest corner of my mind, just waiting for me to find it again.

“Well, I’m calling you Lee from now on,” I declared softly.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

He shook his head, a faint trace of exasperation in his breath. “You always did whatever you wanted.”

I beamed. “See? You remember.”

“Unfortunately.”

I gasped, pressing a hand to my chest. “Excuse me?”

“You once convinced me there was a poisonous snake hiding under my bed.”

“And you actually believed me!”

“I was eight!”

“And I was seven!” I laughed. “You screamed so loud when you jumped onto my mattress!”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“You were terrified and I was laughing my head off!”I burst into genuine laughter. It was strange—I didn't actually have a visual memory of that day, yet hearing Liam tell the story made the warmth of it bloom instantly inside my chest.

I looked at him again, eager for more. “What else did I do?”

The corner of his mouth twitched, fighting back a smile. “You stole my birthday cake.”

“I did not!”

“You ate half of it before the party even started.”

“Okay, that definitely sounds like something I would do.”

“And then you blamed the neighbor’s dog.”

“Did we have a dog?”

“We didn’t even have a dog in the entire neighborhood.”

I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. Liam shook his head, but the dark cloud hovering over him had completely dissolved, replaced by a soft, rare smile. For a few fleeting miles, the heavy atmosphere between us vanished. It was natural. Easy. Just like when we were kids.

I leaned back comfortably against the headrest, narrowing my eyes with a mischievous grin. “Lee-Lee...”

Liam immediately snapped his gaze to me. “Don’t.”

My grin widened. “You remember that one too?”

“I remember you using that voice whenever you were about to ask for something completely absurd.”

“What if I really want something right now?”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask!”

“I know you, Abigail.”

The playful words died on my tongue. I paused, looking at his side profile as his eyes returned to the road.

“You always pull out the ‘Lee-Lee’ trick when you want something ridiculous,” he added quietly.

I softened my smile. “I just wanted ice cream.”

“Still no.”

“See? You really do know me.”

“That’s nothing to be proud of.”

I chuckled, but the laughter slowly faded into a quiet hush. Beneath all the lighthearted teasing lay a truth I couldn't ignore: Liam remembered me.

Not the cold woman I had apparently become over the missing decade. Not the unfaithful wife everyone accused me of being.

He remembered the girl who stole his cake, lied about imaginary snakes, and called him Lee-Lee when she wanted a favor.

For a moment, I wondered if that girl was still alive inside me—and if that was why being near Liam felt so safe.

Then, the memory of Edward’s slick, romantic demeanor crept back into my mind. The warmth vanished.

“Lee?”

He glanced sideways. “What?”

“Was Edward... really that important to me?”

The sudden shift in topic caused Liam’s demeanor to freeze. The soft, relaxed air between us vanished in an instant, replaced by a wall of icy tension.

“Yes,” Liam replied, his voice dropping an octave.

My stomach churned. “What did he mean when he said I was the one who came to him?”

Liam’s jaw tightened so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek. “I don’t know what he told you, Abigail. You tell me. He's the one you always running to, right?”

“He said I loved him,” I murmured, watching his reaction closely.

Liam didn't answer immediately. He pulled the car over to the curb and killed the engine. When he turned to face me, his eyes were burning with pure, unadulterated jealousy—and deep, raw hurt.

“And did you?” Liam asked, his voice low and tight. “Do you still love him?”

“I don’t know, Lee! I’m confused!”

“You’re confused?” He let out a bitter, disbelieving laugh. “He’s a snake, Abigail. I don't trust a single word that comes out of his mouth, and I suspect he’s just using you for his own ends. But you... you always choose to believe him over me.”

I stared at him, my throat dry. Liam didn't know what Edward had actually done; he just hated him, suspected him, and felt completely threatened by him.

“Just stay away from him,” Liam said softly, his tone laced with a vulnerability that broke my heart.

“Lee—”

“I’m serious, Abigail,” he cut in, looking at me with eyes full of unbearable pain and jealousy. “I can handle a lot of things. But watching you run back to Edward Fox? I can’t do that again.”