Aeipathy (noun)

- An enduring and consuming passion.

~*~

It was two hours later when my bare feet treaded against the floor. The pastel blue sundress swayed with each movement and I found myself admiring the elaborate patterns on it. There were some creases on the hem courtesy of my short half-hour nap. After breakfast, Dad had pronounced that he had a gift for each of us and wanted to speak to us separately.

I was the last to be called to the spare room Dad used as an office and library. Due to my falling asleep, Dad and the boys must've agreed to let me rest. My nerves were having a dance party and I felt like I was going to throw up when Christian walked past me, discreetly wiping a tear from his eye. I'd always known that our eighteenth birthday would be special because Dad and Mom had it all planned out before we were even born.


The smell of fresh coffee wafted through the air and I followed it to where the office door was slightly agape. Laughter was coming from inside and I beamed at the sound. I peeped inside and was met with a peculiar sight. Dad sat at his desk, reading glasses on his head and arms folded as he chuckled.

Liam lay slumped on the couch, legs kicked up on the arm, a cup of coffee clutched tightly in hand. It was unusual. I was sure I was imagining things. Raising a fist, I rubbed at my droopy eyes and blinked slowly, yet the display was still the same.

"Liam Finnegan," Dad spoke with a heavy breath before taking a sip of his coffee. He looked utterly spent and for a second I wondered whether he took my advice about working too much. Caleb was perfectly able to manage things.

"Coach James." Liam was never really one to show his emotions that often, but at that moment, his brown eyes were flashing with amusement. He leaned forward and placed his coffee on the table.


Dad sent him a mirthful flash, resting his elbows on his desk and clasping his hands together. "I initially called you over here to discuss the position of striker," he said serenely. My brows raised in curiosity, querying whether Liam or Nolan was chosen. "But now that that's out of the way, I want to talk about Charlie."


A tremor ran through me at the mention of my name as I anticipated earnestly for Liam's rejoinder. "So you heard what Caleb told me when I arrived, huh?"


"I believe his exact words were 'If I'd known you were sleeping in my sister's bed last night, I would've put honey in it like last time.' So you were in my daughter's bed last night?" Dad was relaxed about the whole ordeal, taking another sip of his coffee as he watched the sensations swirl in Liam's eyes. I made a subliminal note to strangle Caleb.

"Yes," Liam returned in a balanced tone. He didn't add anything else and alternatively allowed the sentence to dangle in the air. Customarily, it was the dads who tested the boyfriends but it looked like Liam was testing my dad. He wanted to see whether Dad trusted me or not. Liam sat up to rest his elbows on his legs, daring Dad to assume we'd done anything sexual.

A throaty and slightly distorted chuckle resounded from Dad and I grimaced as he wheezed. But he seemed to be thoroughly amused - or maybe he was just veiling his discomfort well. "I trust my daughter, Liam," he countered placidly, much to the delight of Liam. "And I trust you. I take it I don't have to ask whether you'll hurt her or not?"

Liam straightened, lifting a brow in question. "You don't?"

"Charlie's my baby girl. My only daughter. If things had been different today eighteen years ago, I'd be living in this house with one son - Caleb," Dad hummed, eyes roaming to the window and I had to abstain from whimpering at the distressed expression he wore, driving myself closer to the wall to hear more. I peeked further through the gap in the door.

Liam stilled at Dad's words. "My wife went into labour early. Caleb arrived first and a few minutes later Christian arrived. He didn't make any sound and he started turning blue because he wasn't breathing. If it wasn't for the nurses -" Dad cut himself off.

Liam swallowed coarsely, spreading a hand through his hair. "Christian's a tough guy."

It was the truth. I'd never met someone stronger than Christian. 6 years of being cared for by nurses, being coddled, going to the hospital for periodic check-ups and therapy - I would've gone berserk.

"Charlie took longer to arrive because my Lottie was already weak, too tired to push out another baby. That's when the blood clot formed. They nearly didn't get Charlie out in time. But they did. She wasn't crying either. Lottie took one look at our baby girl, smiled at her - and then she was gone," Dad's voice quivered and I felt a lump form in my throat. "That's when Charlie started crying."

"I know you must've heard this a thousand times, Coach, but I'm sorry for your loss," Liam said quietly, eyes dulled although I could sense he was feeling anxious.

Dad bowed in gratefulness, a tiny smile towing at the corner of his lips. "You see, Christian was given an opportunity. He was sickly, but he had the chance to be nursed back to health. Charlie, there was no opportunity. If the nurses didn't act fast, she would've died. There would've been no opportunity to nurse her back to health if she wasn't given the opportunity to enter the world in the first place."

I watched him glimpse at a framed photo of us on the bookshelf. "Out of all of my kids, I'm most protective of her. And I know she blames herself for her mom's death. I know she drinks to drown her problems. I know she gets panic attacks often. Neither my sons nor I knew how to get through to her - but then you came along, Liam."

His brows furrowed as he gazed at Dad. "I'm confused."

"Don't think I didn't notice how much time you two spent together," Dad chortled again at Liam's dumbstruck facial expression. "Not as slick as you thought you were, huh?" Liam pursed his lips to restrain himself from smiling in embarrassment. "I'm not going to say you changed her because you didn't. She's still Charlie. But you did help her when none of us could. She's more outgoing now, doesn't let her demons hold her back -"

"She did that herself," Liam cut him off. "She's stronger than you think."

Dad grinned, his eyes crinkling at the sides. "I know you won't hurt her, Liam. I trust you. And I also trust that she'll slice your dick off and shove it up your ass if you do."

"I have no doubt that she'll actually do that."

"Yeah," Dad laughed around a cough. "You never know with Charlie." He crossed his arms and said, "I've noticed that you never call her by her name. You call her 'Blondie', right?"

Liam sensed the atmosphere was more relaxed and glanced at his coach with a half-amused and half-serious expression. "You called your wife 'Lottie'. But everyone else called her 'Charlie', didn't they?"

Dad raised a brow, reaching for his coffee again as he spoke. "Yes. How'd you know? Did Charlie tell you?"

"She didn't have to. When I first met her, she was drunk off her ass." Dad grimaced at that and I felt bad, not wanting to disappoint him. "She introduced herself even though I had no interest in talking to anyone. When she introduced herself, there was a flicker of grief in her eyes. The first time I heard someone else say her name was at the Redmonte match. She injured her ankle and Bean was carrying her away. He said her name, hoping that she wouldn't pass out from the pain. I don't even think she realised it but she flinched. It was subtle but I noticed she did it whenever someone called her Charlie."


I stilled, feeling as if freezing water was being drenched all over me. He was correct, I never knew I did that. One thing I always hated was the fact that I was living my life but my mom was gone. I felt like a thief - as if I stole both her life and her name. It was something I never mentioned out loud but apparently, I didn't have to because Liam just knew.

Quietly shuffling, I glanced to my right to see Christian leave the kitchen with a carton of orange juice. He smirked when he noticed me eavesdropping and headed to the living room.

"I didn't like that look in her eyes when someone said her name," Liam recommenced. "So I gave her a different nickname. Yes, Blondie isn't a very original name but hey, it helps her see that she's her own person. She's not a replacement."

Dad's lips thinned, no doubt feeling guilty and disappointed in himself. Then a heartfelt smile tugged at his lips, a smile he reserved only for his kids and Nolan. "You're good for her, Liam. I mean it." He drank the last bit of coffee and said, "I'm not going to question how you guys spend your time because that would be creepy. What I am curious about, however, is how you two came to be. You said she was drunk?"

Liam snorted. "It starts with the saying: 'Why be moody when you can shake your booty?'"

With a soundless laugh, I shifted away from the wall, concluding that I'd see Dad about my gift after the party tonight. As quietly as I could, I made my way to the living room where Christian was sprawled, sipping at his orange juice. "Where's Caleb?"

He looked at me before turning his attention back to the tv. "Went to get some last-minute supplies for the party with Jeremy and Maya." I wanted to ask him about his birthday gift from Dad but refrained from doing so. "You've got a little something there on the table." He motioned to a gift bag on the coffee table.

All of our friends normally brought gifts to the party and left it in our rooms. And Dad wouldn't just leave my gift out in the open. He'd want to surprise me. Christian sent me an encouraging (well, he tried) look and I picked up the bag before descending into an armchair. Inside the bag was a velvety box. My skin pricked and I reached for it, relishing how creamy it felt.

"What if it's an engagement ring?" Christian asked indifferently.

I frowned at him. "It's not an engagement ring. Besides, rings come in small boxes. This is too big."

"That's what she said," he drawled, tipping his head back to sip some more juice. With hooded eyes, he glimpsed back at me to see me staring. "What?"

Spluttering, I demanded, "did you just make a joke?" He shrugged and I blinked rapidly. "What is happening to the world?" I murmured, slowly opening the box and nearly suffocating on my breath.

Inside it was an elegant gold necklace with a tiny heart pendant. Engraved on it was a name. "Liam," I whispered, feeling my eyes gloss over. Setting the box neatly next to me, I reached for the card inside the bag. My hands were trembling as I scanned the neat penmanship.

Here's my first name until I can give you my last. Happy birthday, Blondie. I love you x

"Are you going to cry?" asked Christian, eying my reaction vigilantly.

The lump in my throat expanded and I overcame a sniffle. I nodded, holding the card and necklace close to me as I murmured, "yes."

"Well do it once this game is done," he gesticulated to the tv where a soccer game was playing. "Then I'll leave and you can cry."

Snubbing him, I let the first tear trail down my cheek and nearly snorted at the annoyed huff that left my brother. I looked towards the office door just as Liam's laughter seeped through the small crack.

He was such a plot twist. There was no other way to describe it. Everyone I knew - they entered my life. Nolan was my best friend because he befriended my brothers. The soccer team was my family because my dad was their coach. The cheer girls were in my life because I wanted to be like my mom and cheer.

Liam was my decision. Even though I was drunk that night, I stumbled over to him. Yes, we would've eventually met through the team but I didn't know who he was at the time. And he didn't know me. I was wasted. He was annoyed. I never thought I'd see him again.

Yet, here we were.