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Liam reads the idea in a marriage counselling book. It contends that relationships that suffer hardships can survive with work, determination, empathy, and a small amount of ignorance. The last part sounds somewhat counter-intuitive, except it isn’t if you’re both willing to forgive, and this is the important part... Forget.
Instead of turning the page of their lives, they had to rip that ugly part out before they could continue the story. Otherwise, they would hold their mistakes against one another for the rest of their lives and their love could so easily slip into hate.
The idea of hating Fallon Carrington makes his stomach tighten, makes his heart ache, makes him simply not want to keep living. So, when he approaches her with the -albeit, somewhat unorthodox- idea of burning parts of their past, Fallon is dubious, but she’ll do anything if it means they can heal.
They work to amass the things they want to destroy, things they want to see shattered into ash. Things neither of them will ever be able to see again.
Liam chooses a mild night in the fall when the clouds have vanished and the stars shine bright above them. There’s a heaviness sitting on his chest as he begins to assemble the kindling in the fireplace of the porch, yet, he isn’t sure why. This should be a good thing, to cleanse out the bad, focus on the fact that their future is in their hands.
But things will never be the same again. They’re both very aware of that.
At the least though, the foundations of their relationship, the intense love and admiration they have for one another, that is still very much alive and breathing. As long as they have that, they have a fighting chance. Liam has to believe that.
He reaches into his jean’s pocket and pulls out a matchbox, looking down at the small tool of ignition with uncertainty. Is this really the right thing to do? Is erasing a part of their history truly going to help them be a family again?
He sighs, holding on to that tiny glimmer of hope in his chest that it just might, and pulls out a match, striking it against the box until it’s sizzling, suddenly brought to life. The glowing orange and red sparks a little more optimism in his soul.
It falls into the wood, the flames fed, already beginning to spread; an unstoppable force, and he smiles, because it so reminds him of Fallon.
He watches it for a while, seeing it begin to lick the brick walls – bright and dangerous, but contained.
“Hey,” a soft voice calls out behind him, distracting his attention.
He turns, seeing her dressed in a sweater for the occasion, carrying a cardboard box in her hands, setting it down on the marble top.
“Hey,” he returns, his eyes hovering on the box, curious to know its contents... Curious to know what Fallon deems as essentially doomed objects that need to be obliterated.
When they had both agreed to do this, they had sat and made a list of the things they would bring with them tonight. It felt to Liam like he had rewritten that list a hundred times over, writing down certain items, only to scribble it out again moments later, knowing it was far too painful to lose them.
Eventually, he was able to narrow it down to the things that brought him a feeling of regret, and he had gone from there. However, he has no idea what Fallon’s benchmark is.
He stands, walking to her side. She smiles, but her sapphire eyes give so much away, and he can see his own desperation reflected in them.
They both just really, really need this to work.
“Do you wanna go first?” She asks, apprehension evident in her voice.
Liam nods, lifting the lid of his box, pulling out the first item.
Fallon’s eyes land on it, her eyes widening in surprise to see his leather diary in his hands.
“Really?” She questions, “that has all of your notes from when you were investigating your father’s murder.”
It contains everything, names, contacts, suspected perpetrators, possible motivates, even stubs from his plane tickets. Most importantly, it contains a first-person account from Liam of the whole experience.
“Yeah,” he begins, opening the book, seeing his own handwriting scribbled in it. “I uh, I don’t regret finding out the truth, but I do regret how I did it.”
His eyes meet hers, blue meeting blue.
“More specifically, how I disappeared and didn’t put enough faith in you to help me through it all. I scared you, and I didn’t listen to that because I was so focused.”
She blinks, evidently still confused, “But, Liam, I was wrong, I didn’t have enough faith in you. I read that diary and I...”
That surprises him, “Wait, you did?”
She nods in confirmation, her golden curls bouncing slightly with the movement, “Yeah, I read it all one day when I was feeling lonely and you were away. Liam, I should have known. Instead, I let my fear of losing you overwhelm me and that’s why I begged you to stop.”
Her fear of him leaving drives her to do a lot of regretful things, they’ve discovered.
Still, Liam stands his ground, shaking his head, “Even so, Fallon, I should have heard that. You needed me, and I did the worst thing in that moment... I left when we could have talked things over.” He lets out a humourless laugh as he considers what could have been, “Maybe you could have read this,” he holds up the diary for emphasis, “and so much wouldn’t have happened as a result.”
They’re silent for a painstaking moment. Neither of them are able to say his name or mention how if he hadn’t been injured, there’s a chance he would never have had that car crash. Not knowing will forever torment them, and is something they’re going to have to learn to live with.
Eventually, Fallon takes a deep breath in, both of them being on the same page. “Okay,” she says, “but, I just want you to know. I think your article was amazing, but this...” Her hand lands on the diary, running her fingers over it one last time. “It was all directly from your heart, and even though it told me nothing new about how much it meant to you, I loved to read every word you used.”
A warmth swells in his chest at her admission, “Thank you. That means more to me than you’ll ever know.”
She smiles tightly before reluctantly pulling her hand away, silently giving him permission to burn the book.
It feels a little bittersweet after Fallon’s compliment, but his heart tells him that it’s still the best thing to do. He made mistakes here, big ones that he doesn’t want to repeat.
Fallon should never have had to read the thoughts he wrote down in this diary. She should have heard them from his own mouth.
He regards the diary in his hands one last time, closes the page, and silently thanks it for helping him to find the truth before bending down and dropping it onto the flames. It crackles loudly as if swallowing it up, ravaging the evidence of its existence.
They watch as it crumbles and disintegrates, and Liam begins to understand the notion behind the theory... It does feel a little satisfying.
“Your turn?” Liam asks, glancing over to Fallon who is still intrigued by the dancing fire, her eyes eventually snapping to his, broken from her trance.
“Yeah,” she breathes out, “okay.”
Liam watches intently as she reaches into her box, and pulls out her item of choice, walking the few steps back to him. She holds her hand out, displaying to him the golden pen she gave him on the night he won the award for his article.
He feels his heart beat heavy in his chest, unsure of how to react.
“This is the worst gift I’ve ever given you,” she begins.
Liam’s brows furrow, immediately wanting to go on the defensive, “No, it...”
“No, Liam, it was.” She sighs, “This is nothing but a materialistic token gesture. Did I even apologise for never showing up for you that night? Because I am sorry, and honestly, at the time I don’t think I actually was.”
Liam’s eyes drop, unable to deny the feeling of hurt from creeping in that he’d tried to shut away since that night.
“I thought I could buy your forgiveness...” She continues, “and the worst part about it is that it worked.”
He looks back up at that, his gaze meeting hers. “I know that the pen was your way of apologizing, you know.”
“Yeah, well. There wouldn’t have been any apology necessary if I had just been there for you.”
That he can’t argue with.
But, in all honesty, they both need to work on that. If this marriage is going to work out, they’re going to have to put one another’s needs far before their own.
“I get it, Fal, and I appreciate what you’re saying,” he returns, not needing to say any more on the topic. They both clearly know what went wrong there.
In all honesty, he knows he could have been clearer about the importance of her attending that awards show with him. Again, they didn’t communicate right. So, they fucked up, and tried to paper over the cracks with an expensive pen.
A pen which Fallon throws into the fire, right alongside the now charred diary.
They don’t pause to stare this time; Liam knows exactly what he wants to turn to dust.
Taking his turn, he peers inside his box and pulls out a single, shiny, rounded chestnut.
“What is that?” Fallon questions.
He holds it between his thumb and forefinger, regarding the object.
“A supposed good luck charm that I never needed,” he replies, “Eva gave it to me at the awards show, it’s a Hemingway thing.”
He catches the look of insecurity flutter across her features, paired with her folding her arms across her chest.
“Wow, she really knew you, huh?”
He can read her like a book. Yet he’s surprised that even now, even still after what that woman did to her, to them, Fallon still thinks Liam could in any way admire her.
“She really knew how to research me,” he corrects, “I mean, Fallon, at the time I appreciated the gesture, but now I’m disgusted by it. It was manipulative and shrewd of her, and I hate how naïve I was to have fallen for it.”
“Well, she did have the whole innocent girl-next-door look going on,” she interrupts.
He shakes his head, suddenly feeling a glimmer of anger bubbling beneath the surface, repulsed by the object in his hands.
“Yeah, well she hurt you, and she tried to take you away from me, so quite frankly, fuck her, and fuck her chestnut.”
He tosses it into the fire without a second thought, making Fallon let out a small chuckle, and god, it's music to his ears. It’s the first time he’s heard her laugh in months.
It mesmerizes him, watching how her shoulders lift, how her lips curl up into a wide smile, how her eyes soften. She bats her lashes, catching his gaze, and he can finally see that spark in her that he loves so much.
“I did really like that pen by the way,” Liam jokes, trying to keep the light-heartedness going for as long as possible, it’s been far too long since they had a moment like this between them. It works, seeing her roll her eyes slightly, letting out another amused huff.
“I’ll replace it, don’t worry.”
“It was a really good weight...” He continues, teasing her, watching as she playfully pushes at his arm, letting out more giggles.
“I said I’ll get you a new one!”
He really wants to kiss her.
It’s an urge he hasn’t felt in a while, not like this, anyway. Not with lust and passion, just because he loves her and wants to feel her lips on his.
But he knows he can’t, they still have more work to do here.
So, he elects to allow the tension to sit between the two of them, almost tangible.
“You know I’m just teasing you,” he states, throwing her his best charming smirk.
“Yes, I do, but how can I deprive you of such a good weighted pen?” She jests, making him bark out a laugh, feeling more weight lift from his shoulders and a warmth spread throughout his body.
He really missed this, just the two of them flirting, being themselves.
It gives him hope that maybe all of this can work out.
“Okay, my turn again,” Fallon says, diverting the conversation back to their original laid plans. She reaches into her box, pulling out a copy of The Biggest Payday. “It’s Eva’s,” she explains, and Liam comprehends immediately why she wants to burn it. “Creepy ass annotations and all.”
He finds his throat constrict slightly, knowing this was the thing that had started it all. It makes perfect sense why Fallon wants to rid the world of it.
Her eyes meet his briefly before she continues, opening the book, looking at the scribbles all over the pages, “It’s mostly the ramblings of a deranged, obsessed mind, but there’s something she wrote in here which stuck with me.”
“What’s that?” He asks with intrigue, his voice soft.
“After the characters first kiss, she wrote, ‘Why did he walk away? And why did she let him?’ and...” She lets out a breathy laugh, composing herself before she continues, “I just really like that she doesn’t understand that at all because that means that she never understood what we have.”
He can’t help but smile at that.
In Eva’s mind, who had already convinced herself she was in love with Liam, he’s sure she would have rather Farrah had run after him after that kiss. Then, what? They lived happily ever after? No, real life isn’t quite as easy as that. Besides, that scene was practically a direct transcript of his and Fallon’s first kiss, and he had never even considered trying to take it any further than a kiss that night.
“I don’t think anybody understands it but us,” Liam replies, feeling a sense of pride as he considers that. “We kind of defy logic sometimes.”
“Yeah,” Fallon nods, a small smirk on her lips, “we do.”
She turns and bends slightly to gently lay the book on the fire, a sight Liam never thought he would see. He is proud of that story, how it captures the feelings and the bond between them. He never thought he’d see it burning to ashes.
He considers though, that it isn’t the story he had written for her that Fallon has chosen to burn, just this one tainted copy of it.
He casts his gaze down to it, seeing the pages beginning to peel, unable to withstand the heat. Kind of like what had happened to their marriage.
Good riddance.
“Just so you know,” Fallon continues, bringing his attention back to her as she stands, finding her only about a foot away, her close proximity making it difficult to keep his composure, “I don’t want the logical love that she was looking for.”
On that, they both agree.
Real love just doesn’t make sense sometimes, but it is worth fighting for.
“Well thank god for that,” Liam returns, “because it doesn’t exist.”
“Logical love?” She asks, her head tilting slightly in question.
“Yeah, I mean yes I think you can love someone if it’s a relationship of convenience or because you’re compatible... But that doesn’t guarantee you’ll ever be in love.” He explains, praying that Fallon understands him.
Thankfully, she seems to understand perfectly.
“I know,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, “I’m never going to take that for granted again... Our ‘unlogical love’.”
He believes her.
The sincerity swimming in her blue eyes tells him that she genuinely means that. Right now, she intends for that to be the case, and that’s good enough for him.
“Neither will I,” he returns, making her a promise he will remind himself of every single day.
What they have is so rare and so deep that they make mistakes, ironically, all in the name of trying to salvage it.
It’s time they break that pattern.
He thinks they can do it, especially on account of the fact that the Fallon standing before him is a little different to the one he knew before. This one was almost taken from him and is now terrifyingly aware of her own mortality.
“Let’s keep going,” she says eventually, stepping away from him, cool air suddenly flowing between them.
Liam burns receipts from all the times he waited for Fallon to show up to lunch, or he bought her coffee which she let go cold because she was too busy to even realise he had brought her one to the office.
Fallon’s throws the note Liam had left her the night he’d watched the stars with Eva.
There are a few more miscellaneous items that get thrown into the flames that neither of them really explain, things that are a little more personal to the short time they spent separated... Something they don’t want to repeat ever again.
Once they completely empty their boxes, they stand, Liam’s arms wrapped around Fallon, her head resting against his shoulder as they watch the flames tenderly turn everything to dust.
It’s in that moment that Liam realises that despite this activity being about ridding their relationship of the tainted parts, after the heat dies down, it’s what they’re left with that really matters.
They’ve both lost a lot to the fire, both literally and figuratively, but what remains?
He turns his head, pressing a kiss into her silky curls, inhaling the familiar scent of her expensive shampoo, realising it still smells like home.
“I love you,” he whispers, his voice barely above a whisper, praying that it’s enough for them to begin this new chapter, “unlogically.”