I didn’t drive home. I couldn’t.Not after what I saw. Not after the way Liam looked at me. The panic in his eyes, the guilt etched in his features, as if realizing too late that I’d just watched him kiss another woman. Or maybe she kissed him. It didn’t matter.

The damage was done.

I couldn’t go home. Not in this state. Not with my mother waiting there, cheerful and unaware, eager to hear all about the boy who had made her daughter smile again.

How was I supposed to tell her that ...