The dining room looked like it was trying too hard to feel warm.Soft music hummed from the speakers, candles flickered on the table, and the smell of roasted chicken filled the air. Liam had done all this the candles, the food, the quiet effort. I stood by the doorway, clutching the back of a chair like it might tell me what to do.He looked up from the plates. “You’re on time,” he said, voice neutral.“I live here,” I answered, sliding into my seat.For a heartbeat we just listened to the rain against the windows. The clink of cutlery, the small scrape of a chair leg. Everything ordinary felt heavier than it should.Liam cleared his throat. “I want to apologize for”“Don’t,” I cut in. “Let’s just eat.”So we did. The first few bites were quiet, awkward. Then Bloom barked from the hallway her food bowl over her head, most likely and somehow we both laughed. A real laugh, short and surprised, like neither of us expected it.“You still burn toast,” I said, nodding toward the edges of t
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