26. Shiloh

Chapter twenty-six

Shiloh

It’s the day before my twenty-third birthday, and I’m finally taking charge of my own life.

I exhale, the sound a soft note of contentment in my studio apartment, which feels more like a sanctuary than just four walls. The Boston skyline spreads out beyond my window, a jagged horizon of concrete and glass softened by the fading light. I can glimpse the harbor, its waters a mix of cobalt and slate as evening closes in.

Turning slightly in my chair, I run my gaze over the walls adorned with artwork that speaks to me—a swirl of colors here, an abstract shape there—and photographs that are pieces of my heart frozen in time. My fingers itch to touch each frame, to feel the connection to the memories they hold, but I anchor myself to the present.

Especially now, when everything is on the edge of change.

To my right, a collage demands my attention, its haphazard collection of images a map of laughter and dreams shared. There's Nadia and me, arms slung around each other, grins wide enough to split our faces.

That photo, the centerpiece, was taken the day we vowed to conquer Dublin together—the last day of junior year at Boston College. But even as I smile at the thought, doubt coils tight in my gut.

Dublin means graduate school. It means the future we sketched out on napkins in diners and in whispers during late-night dorm chats. Yet, here I am, with a cursor blinking impatiently on my laptop screen, the word ‘Submit’ taunting me from beneath the application form. I trace the trackpad with a hesitant finger, my thoughts snagging on Liam.

Liam, whose laugh lines tell stories of joy hard-won.

Liam, who challenges and infuriates me in equal measure.

Liam, with whom everything is complicated and nothing is assured.

I don't want to leave him. The admission alone feels like a betrayal, but it's the truth, raw and unvarnished.

"Come on, Shiloh," I mutter to myself. "Just hit the damn button."

But the hesitation remains, a weight on my chest that no amount of deep breathing can dislodge. Because clicking submit isn't just about moving forward—it's about potentially leaving something behind.

An image of Liam flashes in my mind—the way his eyes crinkle when he's genuinely amused or the rare moments he looks at me like maybe I'm more than just a fling. My heart aches with 'what ifs' and 'if onlys'.

"Damn it," I whisper, and steel myself.

With a breath that feels like it's carving a notch in my future, I press down. The click sounds louder than it should, echoing off the walls of my new apartment.

"Okay," I say, quieter now, the word an anchor in the silence. "I did it."

I slump back in my chair, the afterglow of the moment already fading. My gaze slides to my phone, lying innocently on the desk. I pick it up, thumb hovering over the screen, heart hitching with the hope of seeing his name.

But there's nothing from Liam—no text, no missed call. Nothing.

"Great," I mutter, a hollow feeling spreading through me.

We were good together, or so I thought. But ever since he glimpsed that application, things have soured. He's pulled back, and I can't help but wonder if he's written me off and decided I'm not worth the hassle.

The fear twists in my stomach.

What if he's out there right now, charming someone who isn't about to skip town for grad school? Someone easier, less complicated?

I shake the thought away. No, I won't spiral into what-ifs.

"Maybe he's just busy," I tell myself, trying to sound convincing. But who am I kidding? It's Liam. If he wanted to talk to me, he would.

I consider calling him, dialing his number just to hear his voice, to gauge his reaction to my news. But the thought of his possible indifference is too much to bear. I want him to be excited for me, to share in this huge step. But I can't force that from him.

Instead, I hit Nadia's name on my contact list and bring the phone to my ear. The rings are a countdown, each one ramping up my anxiety until she answers.

"Hey, Shy," Nadia's voice is a balm, familiar and warm.

"Hey," I reply, my voice steadier than I feel. "I did it—I submitted the application."

"Shiloh! Oh my God, you finally did it!" Nadia's cheer is infectious, and for a moment, we're both just giggling and freaking out together over the line, two friends on the brink of realizing a dream we've harbored since undergrad.

But as the initial thrill wanes, a sigh slips from my lips unbidden—a sound too heavy for this celebratory call.

"Hey, what's with the sigh?" Nadia's tone shifts, a note of concern threading through her words. "This is what we've been talking about for ages. Why do you sound so down when our future is about to kick off?"

I swallow, feeling the weight of my hesitation like a stone in my gut. It's true, this has been our dream—to study in Dublin, to explore the world we've only seen in pictures and heard in stories.

But now, faced with the reality of leaving, there's a part of me that's tugging back, rooted to Boston by a connection that's as confusing as it is intoxicating.

"Oh, it's nothing," I say, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue. "Just pre-application jitters, I guess."

"Shiloh," Nadia presses, her voice gentle yet probing, "you know you can tell me anything, right? We've got no secrets between us."

My heart clenches. No secrets—except the one that's been consuming me these past weeks. The one involving a billionaire who's as enigmatic as he is commanding, whose attention has ensnared me in the most unexpected of ways.

"Okay," I exhale, the word more a surrender than an affirmation. "There's something...something I haven't told you."

"Spill it," Nadia commands softly, her curiosity piqued.

I stand up from my desk, pacing the limited space of my studio apartment. The Boston skyline blurs into a cascade of lights as my focus tunnels inward.

"It's Liam," I start, the confession feeling like stepping onto a tightrope. “I've been seeing him—more than seeing him, actually."

"Seeing him? As in dating?" Nadia's voice is cautiously optimistic, but I can hear the edges of surprise.

"Sort of," I admit, my fingers nervously tracing the edge of my desk. "We've been... sleeping together."

"Shiloh!" The shock in Nadia's voice mirrors the disbelief that still grips me every morning I wake up to this new reality.

"It’s kind of fucked up," I add before I lose my nerve. "He's—he's my boss, my ex’s brother… And he's this amazing, gorgeous man who has shown me things, done things—" My cheeks flush with heat as I remember the nights spent under his expert touch, "—the filthiest things that I didn’t even know I wanted."

"Wow, I..." Nadia trails off, and I imagine her trying to reconcile this bombshell with the Shiloh she knows—the one who's always been reserved and cautious with her heart.

"Before Liam, it was only ever Chris, you know?" I say, my voice barely a whisper, not daring to break the fragile thread of my confession.

"God, Shiloh," Nadia breathes out. "That's... that's a lot. But, hey, if he's treating you well and you're happy..."

"Am I happy?" I murmur, almost to myself. "I don't even know. It's complicated, Nadia. He's paid for this apartment, and it feels like he's using me sometimes. But then there are moments when it seems like more, and I just get so lost in it all."

"Shiloh, girl, you need to figure out what you want from this. Is he worth the risk?" Nadia advises, her tone steady despite the bombshell.

I chew on my lower lip, the weight of her words settling like stones in my stomach. "I know it's strange," I say, trying to steady my voice as I confess what's really troubling me, "but I wish Liam and I could be... more."

"More?" Nadia echoes, her voice rising with a mix of incredulity and hope. "Shiloh, from where I'm standing, it sounds like you guys are already more than just—well, you know. I mean, he paid for your apartment—"

A bitter laugh escapes me. "No, it's not like that. He's rich, Nadia. He throws cash around like it's nothing. Apartments, gifts... it doesn't mean anything to him." My heart twists painfully at the admission. "He does whatever he wants. And I don't know why he acts the way he does toward me."

"Shiloh, money or not, people don't just buy apartments for someone they don't care about," she insists, but I can hear the caution in her tone.

"Maybe he cares, but not in the way I want him to." The words come out choked as if admitting it makes it real—makes the hurt tangible. "It's like I'm just this... diversion for him."

"Have you talked to him about all of this? Asked him straight up what he wants?" Nadia’s voice is gentle, probing.

I shake my head, even though she can't see it. "I can't. What if he says I'm just reading too much into it all? What if I ruin what little we have?" Fear clutches at my chest; the possibility of losing even the scraps of attention Liam gives me is more terrifying than I want to admit.

"Shiloh, honey, you deserve to know where you stand. You're worth more than being someone's maybe." There's steel in Nadia’s voice now, the kind of conviction that always made me feel braver.

I let out a long breath, feeling the weight of her words. She's right. I've spent so much time worrying about the future, about Liam, that I've been too scared to just live in the moment. "Yeah, you're right. I'll talk to him. I need to know one way or another."

"Exactly! And come on, spill the tea. This is all exciting." I can almost see the eager glint in Nadia’s eyes, her love for juicy stories never waning. “Even if things don’t work out… you should enjoy this while you can.”

"Fine, fine," I relent, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the nerves twisting inside me. I start to detail my tangled interactions with Liam, but I leave out the bits that are too intimate, too raw to share even with Nadia.

"Promise me something?" Nadia's voice softens. "Whatever happens with Liam, don't lose yourself. Remember our dreams, okay?"

"I promise," I whisper, clinging to the familiar comfort of our shared goals.

"Good. Now, I can't wait to live in Dublin with you next year. It's going to be amazing." There's an unspoken hope in her words, a gentle push for me to keep moving forward, no matter what happens with Liam.

"Me too, Nadia. Goodnight." As we sign off, a sense of determination settles over me. One day soon, I'll face Liam. I'll find out if there's a chance for something real between us, or if I'm just chasing shadows.

But tonight, I let myself dream of Dublin and the promise of new beginnings, far from the complicated web of emotions that Boston holds.