Chapter 5 Small talk

Amelia.

I didn't respond. I wasn't in the mood for small talk, and I certainly wasn't about to spill my life story to some random guy on a bus. I tightened my grip on my bag and kept my gaze fixed on the window, silently willing him to drop it and leave me alone. The hum of the engine filled the silence between us, but I could feel his gaze lingering, waiting for me to crack.

"And you are...?" he prompted, his tone light but insistent, like he wasn't going to let it go until he got an answer.

I sighed heavily, finally tearing my eyes away from the window to glance back at him. His expression was expectant, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. "Amelia," I said grudgingly, my voice flat.

"Amelia," he repeated, like he was testing the way it sounded on his tongue. He nodded slightly, as if approving of it. "Nice to meet you, Amelia."

"Yeah, sure," I muttered, turning back to the window. I didn't have the energy to pretend to care about pleasantries.

But Liam wasn't deterred. He shifted in his seat, leaning slightly toward me, his curiosity palpable. "So, where are you running away to?" he asked, his tone casual, like it was the most natural thing in the world to ask a stranger.

"I'm not running away," I snapped, the words tumbling out too quickly to sound convincing.

"Uh-huh." He didn't even try to hide his skepticism. "Let me guess. Bad breakup? Lost your job? Or maybe you're just on a soul-searching journey to find yourself."

I glared at him, my patience wearing thin. "Why do you care?" I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended.

"I don't," he said, grinning in a way that made me want to smack the smirk off his face. "But you're the most interesting thing on this bus, and I've got nothing better to do."

"Great," I muttered, rolling my eyes and clutching my bag tighter. Apparently, I was some kind of entertainment for him.

"Come on," he said, his voice taking on a teasing edge. "Humor me. You've got this whole mysterious vibe going on, and I'm curious. What's your deal?"

I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the strap of my bag until my knuckles turned white. There was no way I was going to tell this stranger the truth. He didn't need to know about the wedding, the mansion, or the suffocating weight of expectations I'd just escaped.

"I just needed to get away," I said finally, keeping my voice as neutral as possible. It wasn't a lie, exactly, but it wasn't the full story either.

Liam raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "That's it? No dramatic story? No big scandal?" he pressed, his grin widening like he was enjoying this far too much.

"Nope," I said, popping the "p" for emphasis. I hoped it would convey just how done I was with this conversation.

He chuckled, leaning back in his seat with an easy confidence that made me want to scream. "Fine. Keep your secrets, Amelia. But if you change your mind, I'm all ears."

I didn't respond. Instead, I turned my attention firmly back to the window, hoping he'd take the hint and finally leave me alone. I could still feel his gaze on me for a few moments longer, but eventually, he shifted in his seat, and the tension eased slightly.

---

Liam's POV.

I leaned back in my seat, watching her out of the corner of my eye. Amelia, huh? She didn't look like an Amelia. The name was too polished, too put-together. She looked more like someone who'd stumbled into a storm, gotten drenched, and hadn't figured out how to dry off yet. There was something raw about her, something messy and unpolished, like she was trying to hold herself together with duct tape and hope.

Her sweater was too big, hanging off her frame like she'd borrowed it from someone twice her size. Her jeans were loose, frayed at the hems, and her sneakers were scuffed and worn, like they'd been through more than just a few miles. But it wasn't just her clothes that gave her away. It was the way she sat, hunched slightly forward, clutching her bag like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. Her fingers gripped the straps so tightly I could see the strain in her knuckles, and every so often, her shoulders would twitch slightly, like she was trying to let go of a tension she couldn't shake.

Yeah, she was definitely running from something.

Not that it was any of my business. People ran for all kinds of reasons, and usually, they didn't want to talk about it. I got that. I'd done my fair share of running too. Still, there was something about her that caught my attention, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. Maybe it was the way she tried so hard to act like she had it all together, even when it was painfully obvious she didn't. Or maybe it was the fact that she seemed to be trying to disappear, and yet, I couldn't help but notice her anyway.

I wasn't planning to push her. I'd made my introduction, and if she didn't want to talk, that was fine. I wasn't the kind of guy to force a conversation where it wasn't wanted. But there was something about her silence, about the way she carried herself, that made me think this wasn't the last time we'd cross paths. People like her didn't just fade into the background-not completely, anyway.

I glanced out the window, letting my gaze drift over the darkness that stretched endlessly around us. The road ahead was barely visible, just a faint line illuminated by the bus's dim headlights. Wherever this bus was going, it felt like we were headed straight into the middle of nowhere.

Which, honestly, was exactly where I wanted to be. The middle of nowhere had a way of making the rest of the world disappear, and right now, that was what I needed. Maybe she needed it too. Or maybe she was just another lost soul passing through, her story only briefly colliding with mine. Either way, something told me Amelia wasn't someone I'd forget anytime soon.