Love after Death (S1) [Completed]

Chapter 8: The Silent Thief in the Hallway

SEVEN YEARS AGO

The sun filtered through the windows of the modest home, illuminating a scene of quiet domesticity. Monique sat at her desk, the scratch of her pen against paper the only sound until the door creaked open.

"Sweetie! Sweetie! Come here..." It was the woman who had raised Monique for eleven years as if she were her own flesh and blood. She stood in the doorway, breathless and brandishing her phone. "Hurry, Monique... the call might get cut off! Wave, quick!"

Amused by the older woman's frantic excitement, Monique set down her pen and approached. But as she faced the screen, her playful smile faltered into a shy, nervous grin. She recognized the man on the other end immediately.

"Hello," Monique greeted softly. She glanced at the woman, who was beaming with pride. "How are you?"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to say 'po' to me?" Michael replied with a rich laugh. He didn't answer her question; instead, his expression shifted to one of brotherly concern. "How are you? I heard you fainted again?"

Monique looked down, the tips of her ears turning pink. She knew her bashfulness was endearing to the men in her life-especially to Liam, who seemed to find every shy glance captivating. "Hmmn, sorry... but I'm okay now," she added quickly, hoping to stave off a lecture.

The older woman wasn't about to let her off the hook. "We keep telling her she needs to see a doctor, but my sweetie is stubborn," she chimed in.

"Monique..." Michael's voice turned serious, drawing out her name until she finally met his gaze. "You need to see a doctor, okay? I'll be mad at you if you don't get a check-up." He pouted, a thin veil for his anxiety.

Someone spoke to him in the background, prompting him to check his surroundings. "Alright! We have a new patient. I just wanted to check in. I might be able to come home in two days."

Before hanging up, he pointed a finger at the camera. "Monique, see a doctor tomorrow. I can't take care of you from the hospital. Is that clear?"

Monique nodded obediently, touched by the weight of his worry. After the older woman exchanged a few more words with her son about skipping meals, the screen went black.

The room grew quiet as the woman took Monique's hand. "You heard your brother. Tomorrow, before school, we're stopping by the hospital." She squeezed Monique's fingers gently. "Don't exhaust your brain too much with studying, sweetie. Your health is more important than medals. I love you."

The warmth in the room felt overwhelming. For the first time in over a decade of being cared for, Monique let the word slip past her lips. "I love you too... Mama."

The woman froze. Her eyes welled up instantly. "You called me Mama?"

"Yes, my Mama," Monique replied, her own voice cracking. "It's not even enough compared to all the love you've given me... Thank you."

They stood there, two women bound by choice rather than birth, crying and laughing in a tight embrace. The woman eventually pulled back, wiping Monique's cheeks. "Don't cry, sweetie. Your lover boy might see you and start crying too."

As if on cue, the door swung open. "What's going on in here?" Liam's voice boomed.

"I made your darling cry!" the woman teased loudly.

Liam's gaze landed on Monique. Seeing her laughter through the tears, a foolish, helpless grin spread across his face.

"You made her cry and you're still laughing..." he whispered, his eyes lingering on Monique with an intensity he couldn't quite mask.

The woman scanned Liam with a playful, judgmental look. "So insensitive, and not even that handsome..." she joked, swatting his back as she headed toward the kitchen. "Don't be shy, son! Do... your... moves!"

Liam's face turned bright red as she walked out. The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. The teasing was gone, replaced by a thick, palpable tension. They both avoided each other's gaze, the weight of a conversation from the previous week hanging between them.

"How was your day?" they asked in unison.

Liam chuckled awkwardly. "You go first." When Monique remained quiet, looking at her shoes, he stepped closer. He placed his hands on her shoulders, his voice dropping to a low, concerned murmur. "Is something the matter?"

Monique looked up, searching his eyes. She could still hear his voice from days ago, echoing in her mind: Because I want you to be my girlfriend, Monique...

"Your birthday is coming up, Liam," she said, her heart hammering against her ribs. "What gift do you want?"

Liam took a deep breath, his resolve hardening. "You, Monique... I want you. I've loved you for a long time." He dropped his gaze to the floor, as if the confession were a physical weight. "I love you, Monique."

The confession sent a rush of euphoria through her. "I love you too, Liam," she whispered.

The relief on Liam's face was visible. He took her hands, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her knuckles.

"I'm glad," he said, his voice thick with emotion. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "I'm going to take a shower now."

He let go of her hands, but the warmth remained. As he turned to leave, he threw a playful smirk over his shoulder. "Do you want to come along?"

Dazed and overwhelmed, Monique nodded instinctively.

Liam let out a bark of laughter, ruffled her hair affectionately, and finally walked out. The moment the door shut, Monique collapsed onto the bed, burying her face in a pillow to stifle a joyful scream.

Outside in the hallway, Liam paused. Hearing her muffled squeals of happiness, he leaned against the wall and smiled to himself.

I will never leave you, my love, he thought, before heading to his room.

To be Continued...