Madeline's POV.
These past two hours were the most dramatic hours of my life, except the day I signed the contract.
From Liam's mum visiting me to the three of us sitting quietly for dinner, eating what Mrs Fernandes made.
The dining table only had three chairs, and I sat next to Liam with Mrs. Fernandes facing us both. I couldn't put the fork down as I continued devouring the white sauce pasta. I reminded myself to ask her for the recipe later.
I wish dinner had continued longer because Mrs Fernandes happily hopped to my room, leaving Liam and me standing awkwardly a few meters away from each other.
He cleared his throat, trying to grab my attention, but why should I turn to speak to him?
If he wanted to speak to me and clear things up, he would have to speak up, open his mouth and communicate, I wasn't the type to forgive and forget easily.
I mean, at least the forget part.
He cleared his throat again, and I almost chuckled, wow! He seriously needs some lessons on speaking.
I didn't want to be the first one to move from here and seem like a desperate person who wanted to enter his room, but at the same time, I didn't want to continue standing here hearing him clear his throat for the nth time
''Madeline'' he finally called.
''Yup?'' I replied as I raised my eyebrows.
''I agree.''
I frowned. 'What was he saying now? Had he lost his screws?'
''Agree to what?'' I asked confused.
His face softened, he looked vulnerable as he said, ''You called me an asshole, a bipolar asshole to be exact, and I agree, I'm sorry.''
I nodded my head.
Being a psychology student, I hated using psychological terms casually, and I have no idea how the word 'bipolar' came out of my mouth that day. I shouldn't have used it.
''Ya, next time, no food, I get it,'' I replied coldly.
Ok, that was petty.
He apologized, but would that change anything? It might not have been something severe where he physically abused me, but there was a time when something similar happened before.
And him entraping me like that a week ago reminded me of that day in high school when I had a similar experience.
As I looked up to see his face there was an emotion that engulfed him that I couldn't clearly comprehend or didn't want to comprehend.
It was a mixture of guilt and pain, I hated hurting people on purpose, now it seemed like we were both on the same level, we were even now.
We hurt each other on purpose, and it was pathetic.
So he moved, moved away from me quietly to his bedroom, leaving the door open as if saying I was welcome to enter anytime.
'Or maybe I was just delusional.'
I didn't know how I felt about Liam, nor did I want to understand it because it would lead to complications.
Was I so desperate to feel love?
I had always imagined a fairytale kind of love, where the guy and girl fall in love, do the most romantic things like kissing in the rain, dancing in the hall at midnight, lying on a lawn as we embrace each other.
Teasing each other and end up making out on the couch, and then get married, have a humble abode for ourselves and make kids that would cringe at their parents' lovey-dovey interactions.
Maybe since we were married, since we had a legal bond like that my mind was automatically expecting things that it shouldn't be.
Even though our marriage is legal, being with him and falling in love with each other felt so illegal.
I knew that there was no point standing here, so I made up my mind to never fall in love with him as I slowly walked towards his room.
From the dining table, his room was barely 10-15 steps away, but every step I took forward felt heavy; the more I walked forward, the more nervous I felt.
'Was it because I was worried he would hurt me again?'
Or...
'Was it because I was afraid my heart would still be somewhat open no matter what he did?'
One more step and then I would be in his room. I made up my resolve to close my heart as tightly as possible and build all the walls around my heart before I finally stepped in.
Liam wasn't there, then I noticed the sound of water running from the attached bathroom.
I sighed in relief as I took notice of his room, just like him, his room also didn't have much personality.
It was very plain, with white and gray painted walls, a simple bed and windows with greyish, almost black curtains.
And that was it.
His room seemed smaller than the one that was given to me.
Why didn't he take the bigger room?
I frowned, 'Why was I psychoanalyzing his choices right now?'
As I stood there with my thoughts, Liam stepped out of the bathroom completely clothed.
'Why was I disappointed?'
This was getting ridiculous, I should stop reading all those novels where the male leads come out just with a towel or bathrobe.
''Which side of the bed do you prefer?'' he asked as he moved towards the bed.
Liam's question didn't make any sense to me. Were there people who actually preferred taking sides? If sleep came over me, I would even sleep on the floor.
''Any side would do,'' I replied as I stared at the bed, which was smaller than the bed I was sleeping on in the other room.
Great!
''Okay, then.''
Saying that he plopped on the bed, lying on the left side.
'Wow, now what was I supposed to do? Move to the right and sleep next to him?'
I stood there, probably looking like a lost penguin. He then spoke, staring up at me from the bed ''There is only one pillow, you can have it.''
I stared at him with the most ridiculous expression on my face, 'Why was he acting like this was the most normal thing to happen?'
''I'm not a pillow person, I don't really like pillows, but I need that,'' I replied, eyeing the blanket.
''The blanket you mean?'' he asked lifting the blanket.
''Yes, the blanket.''
''You can have it. Do you have a habit of turning the lights on when you sleep? Because I don't.''
Ok, so this was real, I was sharing a bed with Liam Fernandes.
''No, I don't,'' I replied nonchalantly.
With that I made my way towards his bed, the bed he was sleeping on.
If he was going to act all cool about it then I was going to do the same.
So I walked towards his bed, lying next to him, but making sure that we had at least 7 cm of distance between us.
And in a second, he turned the lights off.
Now it was just me, him and my thoughts as I stared at the ceiling.