A/N: I started another story. This one is not a period piece but as per usual it is an alternate universe. I just had this idea for a Liarla love story for quite some months and decided to finally pump out a chapter. Thank you for reading and I hope you all enjoy.
Liam Connor was running late on this particular evening in question which was something he had promised his fiancée he would be careful not to do. As he flagged down a New York City taxi in the horrible traffic, exhausted beyond all belief and recognition, Liam only had sleep on the mind. These last few days on business in New York had been physically if not mentally grueling. He had just secured contracts for his Factory in Manchester that would out sourcing work to other countries and with American interest in his new ambitious company "Lad Rag's", Liam felt he was finally moving on up in the world.
Having met the perfect woman in Maria Sutherland only help matters and Liam felt ready to settle down or so he liked to tell himself. On paper Maria was everything a man could hope for, she was beautiful, loving and kind. She always keep their shared apartment organized and cooked the most amazing meals. She also took on all the planning for their upcoming nuptials without a single fuss. Liam found himself completely taking in by if not impressed at the things Maria would endure for the sake love. She helped him come to the realization that sometimes you just do things for another person, things you don't really want to, simply because you care. Maria knew how much it meant to him that she suffered through painful gatherings with his overbearing mother, how sometimes she forced herself to smile until it hurt when Helen Connor said the most insensitive of things.
Like for example, his mother would constantly grate on Maria's psyche and fragile state rubbing it in that Maria wouldn't be able to have any children. The couple had only just found this news out a month ago and his mother Helen may sure to never let them forget it, not like they could if they wanted to anyways. Still despite all of this unnecessary drama, Maria was nice to the people that cared about him, liking people on their own merits; she regarded his sister and mother as stand alones and not as extensions of Liam himself. Maria seemed to realized that in caring for another person you don't just focus on loving them alone, you try to be nice to the people they care about as well.
All of this made Liam feel guilty because he wasn't so sure the extent of his feelings for Maria would ever reach that point yet or ever when it came to selfless love. He rarely made an effort with her brother Kirk as it was and when he did, Liam only harbored annoyance and resentment for having to endure the situation at all. There was no fun in resentment and Liam didn't do it on purpose. Liam just knew in his heart that there was only one girl in the world he would have gone through anything for and her name definitely wasn't Maria Sutherland.
It was so long ago, but to even think about Carla Donovan could still rip his heart in two, the wounds so fresh it felt like it had only been yesterday since she shut out completely and without any explanation. He thought about the fragility of glass and how when broken into bits it could tear into one's skin and get caught in it. Carla was glass to him, constantly grating at his memories and tearing him apart, yet he couldn't logde her out. Yet in spite of this, Liam still kept old letters from Carla and kicked himself for being so bloody damn transparent. She was the one that got away. For years he secretly compared every girl he dated to Carla in everyway possible. Finally it got to the point were things were too painful and the reasons for breaking up so ridiculous that the only solution was to switch his train of thought. So Liam sought out to find someone who would be Carla's antithesis, her exact opposite in every way so he could convince himself she wasn't what he needed to feel alive. Gold had been struck when Liam happened upon Maria, his Maria that so perfect and loved him so much and yet he didn't love enough. This lack of equal love was precisely the reason why he was driving around New York city at this time in the evening; jumping through hoops just to prove his willingness to endure unpleasant things in the name of love as well.
Liam's cellphone vibrated and he quickly retrieved it from his suit jacket surprised Maria was calling him at this hour. It was after 12:00 am, Manchester time. He was a bit annoyed that she couldn't even trust him to do this one thing without checking up. Unlocking his phone, Liam took a deep breath before answering, "Hello darling, what are still doing up at this hour?"
"Have you gotten to the book signing yet?" says Maria completely ignoring his friendliness and getting straight to the point. She sounded anything but tired and if Liam knew Maria correctly, she would probably be up until all hours of the night wishing she had been the one in New York at the signing instead.
"I'm on my way right now," says Liam glancing quickly at his watch. He was running late as the book reception had started at 6:30 pm and he was held up in New York traffic the time now at just near 7:00 pm. In his opinion the time wasn't all that bad, he probably wouldn't miss much and Maria just needed to stop worrying, "I only just got out of my meeting at the restaurant near 6 o' clock anyways."
"But you knew this was important to me!" screeches Maria on the other end completely inconsiderate and lacking her usual manners to even ask how successful his deal had went, "You knew about this event months in advance. You knew the book signing would be tonight Liam!"
"I know, I know," Liam sighs he can feel another pounding headache coming on and is in no condition to be arguing with his fiancée right now. He just wanted to get in there and out and be done with it so he could back to his hotel for some much needed sleep and break from all his troubling thoughts, "Look I'm sorry—"
"—Just tell me you have my own personal copy of the memoir with you," disappointment was ringing through Maria's end of the phone, "Just tell me you have a copy of the memoir. I put it in your suitcase and just want a personal autograph—"
"Hold on," Liam frantically grabbing for his work case unplucking the strap and pulling out his papers. He couldn't remember for certain if he had actually grabbed the book when leaving the hotel this morning since so many other things were going on in his mind.
"Liam please tell me it isn't still in the hotel room?!"
"No!" says Liam getting excited as he pulls the book out from under all his work papers. The taxi driver shot him an amused look clearly having heard Maria's screeching which Liam quickly returned before speaking back into the phone, "I found it." It was perfect timing because the taxi slowly pulled up to the venue, "I've just made it to the place now Maria."
"Good," utters Maria relieved on the other end, "This book means so much to me Liam. Ever since we found that I might not be able to have any babies—and I know how important grandchildren are to Helen-"
"Stop," Liam interrupts her. The last thing he wants to think about is that issue especially with everything else going on that is putting a strain on their relationship. Maria for all her perfectness didn't need to make things worse by constantly digging at fresh wounds. Liam had his mother for that and she was quite enough since the woman had made remarks against adoption as well killing that possibility for Maria within seconds, "Don't talk about that right now, please."
"But I have to Liam," her voice is now shaking on the other end and Liam feels so horribly for having shut Maria down so cooly. But couldn't she just understand he didn't want to talk about it? "This book…it really speaks to me. I feel like the author truly gets it. Her life struggles…they could be my own, they could be anyone of my friends... and then the three miscarriages before there was light at the end of the tunnel..."
He droned her out for a moment simply willing his mind to think about anything else but this. Despite his pure exhaustion Liam just wanted to focus on the positive because so many positive things had happened for him today. It simply didn't make sense why she had to go and do this whole crying thing now. Liam was in pain too and sometimes he wished she would consider this fact before she started making him feel like a failure. Liam was in a trance, holding his hand up in a signal for the taxi driver to wait a few seconds as he retrieved his fare. Handing it over and waiting for change he picked up the book, which had been sitting, in his lap. He acknowledged that it was a memoir, apparently a very popular one as of late since it was gaining momentum in the press. Liam hadn't paid attention to any of the hype himself. However last month Maria's book club decided to read it and she wouldn't shut about the damn thing since. First impressions; it was just a generic black cover with the title placed in the middle. It seemed ineffective in his opinion, that the author's pretentious need to make it appear plain fell somewhat flat. It certainly wouldn't catch his eye in the bookstore assuming he wanted to read sob stories about other peoples lives, which Liam didn't.
However he'd give credit where credit was due. The dedication on the inside cover was somewhat insightful:
"In order to move on, you must understand why you felt what you did and why no longer need to feel it."
That's as far as Liam would go in terms of compliments , seeing as the night be spent listening to excerpts about sob stories just to get a damn signature. This was not appealing in the slightest and not at all how he wanted to celebrate his success with the factory contracts. He'd bet that whomever she was, the author would turn out to be a hack. She'd be feeding off the minds and wallets of impressionable housewives who had nothing better to do with their boring lives. From a business perspective it was admirable but from a personal; Liam just didn't understand why some people couldn't keep certain chapters of their lives closed. He had done that with Carla, everyone did with some aspect of their own lives. That's what made experiences more special if not sacred.
"Look," he says shoving his change back into his pocket, "I'm about to go in so I'll talk to you later Maria, love. Oh and I'll get your silly little autograph too darling—"
He shot out of that taxi like a bat out of hell clutching the book and work bag as he ran up the steps and through the doors. He had the invitation, the 'A Night With' for this particular author. Reading the room number and floor level carefully, Liam managed to hound down a nearly closing elevator and shoot to the top of the building. Practically out of breath and out of his element once venturing into the lecture hall, Liam was relieved that at ten minutes after eight o' clock the actual reading hadn't started yet. He found a seat somewhere in the middle, apologizing every two seconds at the impossible task of not hitting someone somehow with his workbag. He breathed a sigh of relief once he found a place in the middle of the row, looking around distracted by the surroundings and fellow attendees. Home time was not far from his mind as the lights dimmed in the theatre and the sound of chattering voices quickly lessened.
Soon all eyes were on the author who just taking center stage.
Carla Connor took a deep breath in the amphitheater as she walked out center stage into the light. So many people had came tonight, intrigued and eager to here about her experience and personal troubles. It was all rather perplexing given what she had once suffered growing up with neglectful mother, a wayward brother and countless other people who just walked in and out of Carla's life like she hadn't mattered. If someone were tell her then that there were people out there who actually cared about Carla's opinions and all she had endured; Carla wouldn't have believed it. She had such a hard time accepting that all these 'fans' so to speak even noticed her, when her mother had ingrained in her mind so long ago that no one would ever notice or even care.
The palms of her hands were sweaty and her legs wobbly as Carla made her way to the podium. An unopened bottle of water lay off just to her left, which she looked upon gratefully as sign her agent was finally learning his job. Her agent just so happened to be her husband and like clockwork she peaked her shoulder glancing at all 6 feet of his gorgeous frame. Paul was peaking his head from behind the red curtain giving her an approving nod. She returns the warm gesture, speaking wordlessly through her eyes of how much he was her strength and she loved him. Tearing her green eyes away she looked out once again into the crowd adjusting the microphone on the podium, Carla began to speak.
"Good evening everyone and thank you for coming," The crowd clapped, some beaming and others, reporters from various news outlets taking notes. Carla still felt so nervous. This work, this memoir she had written was very personal and as therapeutic and helpful it had been to write; sometimes speaking it, all the words she had written down could be somewhat difficult. It gave the whole situation more reality, a confirmation of sorts that these horrible and heartbreaking things had actually happened to her amongst the various new blessings now granted upon her life. Her followers were depending on her and she owed it to them because her suffering was their strength. Carla was a testimony to the fact that if one kept on fighting they could get some the happiness they deserved. If she could save just one other woman or young girl out there from making the same mistakes she had, then it was worth it. So Carla found her strength and repeated, "Thank you for coming this evening."
" No, thank you!" someone shouted and others followed warming up and breaking the formalness of the setting immediately.
This helped Carla almost immediately as she began to relax and gain her footing. She looked to the crowd like they were her personal friends because in a way they were. She had shared some of the most intimate, raw moments of her life in this memoir with them. It would not make sense to speak to them in any other way. They felt like they knew Carla and shared a special bond. And even though Carla would never know a lot of them personally it was important to convey that she loved each and everyone of them the way every human being deserves a basic love. Her eyes roamed over the speech Paul had helped her write, "This Memoir saved me in everyway that I needed saving. As you all know from these pages, I suffered a miscarriage. I had been happily married for two years when that first miscarriage occurred followed by a second and then a third. I thought God was somehow punishing me for a past I didn't necessarily have any control over. My husband Paul, who has been my rock, helped me to realize that it wasn't my fault what had happened before in my hard life. He made me feel comfortable enough to talk about my past and take the stress off of myself which is how this book came about. Now we have a child today and I feel it is because I was finally to stop blaming myself and forgive others for the wrongs committed in my past."
The theatre clapped again and Carla once more felt a surge of confidence race through her body. Her voice became more powerful and emotive, "I start the beginning of my memoir with a quote: ' In order to move on, you must understand why you felt what you did and why no longer need to feel it.', it's a very important quote to me because in writing this book I began to realize that the process was both good and bad. The good part was finally being able to accept that when I was a young girl I got pregnant and gave the baby up not because I wanted to, but because I had to give it a chance at a better life. I shouldn't have to feel that horribleness forever for having done a genuinely good thing."
"What's the bad part?" shouts an audience member.
"The bad part is that as writer it's my responsibility to delve into these subjects which make me uncomfortable and write about them. By subjects I don't only mean events but also the people referred to in this work. I talk a lot about a boy who was a very big part of my life back then. The parts about him, about baby we shared…nothing makes me more uncomfortable. And although I say stuff and it gives insight into what the experience was at the time, it doesn't necessarily reflect the way I feel about this person now," Carla glanced back at Paul making sure this point stuck with her husband. She told herself she no longer loved this other boy the way she referred to him in those specific passages, "It's just reflection of a time when I was in those moments and how I felt going through the motions. Everything that happened with this person is something that I will always value. They were an important part of my life and to deny that would be foolish. Now, I'm only saying this all because the press has been relentless in their pursuit of finding out whom exactly the man in the memoir may actually be. I want to set it straight once and for all that under no circumstances will I ever reveal his identity. I've moved on in my life and into maturity and want to take these experiences with me as memories not my reality. They belong to a past history, a history I truly appreciate but one that's belongs to another time now. So with that said, I'd like to get to the first excerpt of the evening…"
Carla slowly opened her memoir turning to the book marked page, knowing full well that everything she just said about the boy as much as her brain believed it to be true her heart knew it to be a lie, a full on contradiction of her real feelings. She couldn't say that these were the feelings she had for her first love at al nowl, that he was somehow just left in the past because she was her past. Paul wanted her to the sell the book; whether intentional or not in a way that would make him more comfortable about this romantic pas. Carla wanted it to be true as well because it looked so good on paper, made her appear stronger than she actually was. Things had been left so opened ended with the boy and with the secret pregnancy and adoption, plus the way she had completely shut him out. The pain in this book over giving up her first love and their child was definitely at many moments a true testimony to how she still felt. Yet Carla put a smile, a different face and lied to the whole world.
"…I thought I was going to die, that's how painful the cramps were. I had awakened to a feeling like someone had just taking a thousands knives to my stomach penetrating it over and over. In all the bleary-eyed anguish of my tears, I looked to see that night my gown was practically red and the sheets completely soaked through. The baby was coming and I started to cry, like really cry so hard that the sound was taking all the life out of me. I was upset because the baby was much too early and I much too young. This whole situation was just unfair...
My mother and his mother were forcing me to do this all on my own. They wouldn't even let him learn about the baby's existence. I don't remember much of what had happened in that girls home next were I gave birth. But I do remember that after it was all over…they wouldn't even allow me to hold her. The nurses, the nuns, no one let me see her. But the nurse was cold as my mum and said I must forget I ever had a daughter, that I couldn't miss something that I had never been mine to begin with.
I thought, "How sick is that?" How sick that I couldn't even hold her or know her name. It wasn't fair that I couldn't even be allowed to love her. But then I felt even worse, because how sick was it that he would never even know of his own daughter's birth, of our only daughter's existence? In that particular moment I couldn't decide which fate was worse…"
Carla quickly looked up at the silent Amphitheatre holding back tears remembering the rawness of that moment. No one could tell her that this wasn't how she felt, like her insides were tearing up fresh as ever from being separated from her little daughter. Carla didn't even have name on which to go by, not for the baby and now not for him. It was the only way to disassociate herself from the pain of that heart wrenching experience. That's why two of the most important people in her life remained nameless. It is why Liam Connor, her first kiss, her first heartbreak, her first everything was simply just the man in the memoir.
"How sick is that?" How sick that I couldn't even hold her or know her name. But then I felt even worse, because how sick was it that he would never even know of his own daughter's birth... our only daughter's existence? In that particular moment I couldn't decide which fate was worse…"
Liam was rigid, rigid as he had been from the first moment he realized whom this author was. Many things were going through head, like why hadn't he got up left the moment the lights dimned and she spoke and he knew he would recognize that voice anywhere. Why couldn't he just move and remove himself from all the fresh memories? And when she spoke of a husband and a baby and Liam then felt misplaced and unwarranted jealousy that it wasn't him who was those things to her, why not leave then? No, he just became like puddy, unable to process that his Carla Donovan was actually in front of them. That his fiancée Maria would then want an autograph. He felt stunned like a zombie at the thought of these two worlds quickly colliding and so publicly. There was regret that he thought of her as hack earlier, Carla was not a hack author at all. All he ever thought her as was the girl he had so innocently loved all those years ago. And then she asked that question, read that passage, that passage that now everyone was shedding tears over. The audience were setting up little narratives in their heads just contemplating how that boy should feel, how he would feel. But Liam sat their in complete silence, his blue eyes fixed in stunned surprise and anguish on her alone. No matter how much these people tried, he was the only one in the room who knew the answer, who could possibly answer that question.
How could she? How she have kept this from him...a child? He had a child, it had to be his child because who else's could it have been? Over and over he repeated in his mind how she had had his baby and then gave it away and nothing else matter in that particular moment but this horrible betrayal. Liam had thought how he would never know her reasons for shutting him out after years of coming up with his own silly explantations. Now each and everyone of those silly reasons was better than the actual truth. It was then that moment that Liam knew the loss was so great he wouldn't ever be able to speak of it.
"…In that particular moment I couldn't decide which fate was worse…"
Liam could, his fate he decided had been much worse.