Rise of The Abandoned Husband (Liam Knight) novel Chapter 13
Chapter 13: Chapter 13 – A Spark of Courage, A Door Closed Forever
Isabelle’s question hung in the air between us, my heart suddenly pounding in my chest. The way she looked at me—expectant, vulnerable, yet somehow confident—made my mouth go dry.
“I…” I started, then faltered. How could I tell her that she had completely transformed my world? That in the short time we’d known each other, she had shown me more genuine care than anyone ever had?
Before I could form a coherent response, Isabelle’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it and sighed.
“I have to go,” she said, standing reluctantly. “Business meeting that can’t wait.” She paused, then added softly, “Think about my question, Liam. I’ll see you at the banquet.”
As she walked away, she glanced over her shoulder, a small smile playing on her lips. “And just so you know, I’m looking forward to your answer.”
I remained on that bench long after she left, replaying her words in my mind. Was she actually interested in me? The thought seemed impossible, yet her question had been unmistakable. For the first time since my awakening, I felt something beyond the thirst for revenge or the drive to cultivate—hope.
—
The next morning, I woke with renewed purpose. Isabelle Ashworth had seen something in me worth believing in, even before my transformation. Now I had to prove myself worthy of that faith.
I spent the morning practicing the movements described in my newly acquired knowledge, channeling Qi through my meridians with increasing precision. The sensation was exhilarating—pure energy flowing through my body, strengthening me from within.
After two hours of rigorous practice, my phone rang. The number was familiar, though I hadn’t seen it on my screen in weeks. William Sterling—my former grandfather-in-law.
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I hesitated before answering. “Hello?”
“Liam, my boy.” His voice sounded weaker than I remembered, frailer somehow. “I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but… could you come see me? One last time?”
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The request surprised me. William had been the only one in the Sterling family who had shown me any kindness during my three years of humiliation.
“What’s wrong? Are you ill?” I asked, genuine concern in my voice.
“Just an old man wanting to make amends,” he replied evasively. “Please, Liam.”
I sighed. “I’ll be there in an hour.”
—
The Johnson family home looked exactly as I remembered—an imposing mansion that had once represented all my failures. Now, as I approached the front door, I felt strangely detached from the dread this place had once inspired.
The door swung open before I could knock. Beatrice Sterling, Seraphina’s mother, stood there with her usual pinched expression.
“Oh, it’s you,” she said, as though I were a particularly persistent salesman. “Father William is in the study.” She turned without another word, leaving me to follow.
The house was unusually quiet. As we passed the living room, I noticed boxes stacked against the wall—some labeled “Charity,” others “Storage.”
“Moving things around?” I asked.
Beatrice sniffed. “Not that it’s any of your concern, but Seraphina is redecorating. New beginnings and all that.”
At the study door, Beatrice paused. “Five minutes. He needs his rest.” She rapped sharply on the door before walking away.
I entered to find William Sterling seated in his favorite armchair by the window. The once-formidable man now looked diminished, his shoulders hunched, his face gaunt. But his eyes lit up when he saw me.
“Liam, you came,” he said, genuine warmth in his voice. “I wasn’t sure you would.”
“You asked,” I said simply, taking the chair opposite him. “You’re the only one in this family who ever showed me respect.”
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