I stayed at the inn for over a month.Liam became a regular there.Now and then he'd ask me to walk by the water with him, take me to the kind of hole-in-the-wall places only locals knew, or rent a big Jeep and drive me through old back streets almost nobody had heard of.We'd barely crossed paths in college, yet, strangely, being around him felt loose and easy, like we'd been old friends for years.After enough of it, even the innkeeper started teasing me.Sitting by the water one afternoon with tea, I finally couldn't help asking, "Don't you fly to Miami for work a little too often?"Liam, shelling pine nuts, paused for half a beat."This client's important. I didn't want to lose them, so I come by a lot. And while I'm here, I stay the weekend."He pushed the shelled nuts toward me. "Ella, you're not sick of me yet, are you?"By "while I'm here," he meant flying between New York and Miami, without fail, every single week.Every Friday evening he turned up at the door of my inn, trave
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