The Warmest Winter✓

Fifty-four

I pour myself some water while waiting for Malik to pick my call. It's pretty late, needless for me to check the clock for the umpteenth time. The kitchen feels cold and the faster I return to the bedroom, the better. 

My desperation knows no limit despite the fact that I shouldn't disturb Malik at this hour. But what I desperately need to know is if Liam is safe and sound—wherever he may be—even if he's with Scarlet. 

"Professor?" At last Malik responds.

"Malik, have you heard from Liam? Has he called you? Are you with him, maybe?" I ask right away.

"Liam? No, he's not. I haven't heard from him since the moment you two left the party," he answers. "Why? Isn't he at home with you?"

"No. And he's not picking my calls either," I utter, and it's driving me crazy not knowing where he may be.

"Did something happen? Did the two of you fight or argue?" Malik asks.

Well, maybe it wasn't a fight, but it surely was more than an argument.

"Let's say we argued, and he left the house afterwards. I thought he may be with you . . . but since he's not, I guess he's with her." I stare at my nails, dismayed by the possibility of them being together. "I'm sorry for the—"

"Wait!" Malik interjects. "Whom do you think he is with, if you don't mind me asking?" 

"With Scarlet?" I shrug, laughing bitterly. "He's definitely with her, Malik. He has to be with her."

He probably needs to know about their baby. The irony hurts me even more.

"Scarlet? No, that can't be possible. Why would Liam be with her?" Malik denies sternly. "Hold on, I'll check on him. You try to relax, and go to sleep if you can. Stop overthinking, Professor, promise?" he asks gently as though I'm five.

"Hmm." I hum my response.

I wait for any call while in bed, thinking of what's gonna happen next now that everything is chaotic. Are we going to make things work as we always do? A soft sigh leaves my chest as I lay more comfortably.

And eventually I fall asleep.

The sound of the door opening wakes me a moment later. My phone that's been lying on my stomach slides off to the bed as I sit up ungraciously, darting my hazy glance at the sullen man who's just stepped in. 

"You're back," I croak while rubbing my eyes, the light abundant in the room. 

Liam seems indisposed as he stares at me with a frown. His eyes are still dark, he doesn't have his jacket, and his shirt is half-buttoned.  He sighs heavily while running a hand through his hair. 

"You should be sleeping," he scolds tiredly.

"I know." I press my lips together into a hard line.  "But I guess I forgot how to sleep without you by my side. I tried but . . . but it felt strange and difficult . . .  like I don't belong here at all." I smile nervously at him.

He stills in his stance, his dysphoric eyes calm like the summer lake despite the anger. 

"Where did you go?" I ask after a short moment of utter silence, and deep inside I'm already frightened by the answer he'd give me. 

I know he was with her. 

"I didn't go to her," Liam answers wittingly in a low voice. 

My eyes widen. "You . . . you didn't?" 

"No, I didn't," Liam affirms. 

He takes nonchalant steps away from the door and tosses his car keys on the couch. My astounded gaze stalks him like a shadow. Breathing out exhausted, he turns his eyes towards me, and I find them rather intoxicated to focus efficiently.