Chapter 3

I walked for hours, the city lights blurring around me. The cool night air did little to calm the fire in my gut.

I thought about how our relationship had started. I was the one who pursued him. In college, Liam Hayes was a legend-smart, handsome, untouchable. Everyone knew he was destined for great things. I was just another face in the crowd, but I was determined.

I learned his class schedule, his favorite coffee shop, the path he took across campus. I engineered "accidental" meetings, armed with witty comments and a confidence I didn't really feel. It took me six months to wear him down. When he finally agreed to a date, I felt like I had won the lottery.

Looking back now, I realized the entire foundation of our relationship was built on my effort. I was always the one planning, accommodating, compromising. I had been so focused on winning him that I never stopped to ask if he was actually worth the fight. The imbalance had been there from the start; the fire just burned away the illusion that we were equals.

I finally made it back to my new apartment and collapsed onto the bed. I mindlessly scrolled through my phone, my thumb hovering over Instagram. I hadn't looked at Chloe's profile in years. Curiosity, like a sickness, got the better of me.

Her feed was a curated collection of a perfect life. But one post, from a few weeks ago, made my breath catch. It was a picture of a beautiful, handcrafted wooden music box. The caption read: "Some people just know how to make you feel better after a tough week. Thank you, L. You always know."

I knew that music box. It was a one-of-a-kind piece from a small artisan shop we had visited on a trip last year. I had pointed it out, saying how beautiful it was. Liam had glanced at it, said it was overpriced, and pulled me away. He was always principled about money, never spending on frivolous things. Or so I thought.

He had bought it for her. The principle didn't apply to Chloe.

A wave of cold, hard pain washed over me. It wasn't just about the money. It was about the thought, the care. He had seen something I loved, dismissed it, and then given it to her. I had spent years convincing myself that his emotional distance was just his personality. That he was practical, not romantic.

Now I knew the truth. He was capable of romance, of thoughtful gestures. Just not with me.

My phone buzzed with a text from him.

Are you home?

I stared at the message, then turned my phone over and ignored it.

Minutes later, another one.

Ava, please just talk to me.

Then another.

I'm worried about you.

The messages kept coming, a relentless stream of feigned concern. I turned my phone off completely. I couldn't deal with his performance anymore.

The next morning, I stepped out of my building to head to work, and he was there. Leaning against his sleek black car, parked right across the street. He looked tired, his usually perfect suit slightly rumpled.

My heart did a stupid little jump before I squashed it. I turned and started walking in the opposite direction, towards the subway.

I felt him fall into step beside me.

"Ava."

I kept walking, picking up my pace. "Leave me alone, Liam."

"I'm not leaving until we talk."

I ignored him, my eyes fixed on the subway entrance a block away. I could feel people staring at us. A man in a suit arguing with a woman who was clearly trying to escape him.

"I just want to make sure you get to work safely," he said, trying a different tactic.

"I've been getting to work safely by myself for years," I snapped.

When I got to the station, a sign was posted. "Service suspended due to signal problems." A collective groan went through the crowd of commuters. Of course.

I turned to go back to the street to find a cab, and he was right there, blocking my path.

"Let me drive you," he said. It wasn't a question.

"No, thank you."

"Ava, don't be stubborn. You'll be late."

I knew he was right. Cabs would be impossible to find now. Defeated, I let out a sharp sigh and walked towards his car without another word.

I got in and slammed the door. The ride was silent and thick with tension. The air in the luxury car felt suffocating. I stared out the window, watching the city go by, feeling like a prisoner.

"You look tired," he said softly, breaking the silence. "Are you sleeping okay in the new place?"

I didn't answer. I just kept watching the buildings blur past.

He sighed. "How long are you going to keep this up?"

We pulled up in front of my office building. Before I could jump out, he locked the doors.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice rising in panic.

"Just listen. For one minute." He turned in his seat to face me. "I want us to go back to how things were."

The sheer audacity of that statement left me speechless. "How things were?" I finally managed to say. "You mean with me pretending not to notice that I'm your second choice?"

"That's not what it is, and you know it."

"Then what is it, Liam? Why don't you explain it to me?"

I reached for the door handle. "I have to get to work."

"Ava, wait," he called out as I got out of the car. He scrambled out and came around to my side, grabbing my arm.

"Let go of me."

"Not until you stop this," he said, his voice tight with frustration. "This silent treatment, this running away. It's childish."

"Childish?" I pulled my arm from his grasp, my voice shaking with rage. "You think this is me being childish? You left me in a fire, Liam! You have spent the last five years making me feel like an afterthought, and you think me finally having some self-respect is childish?"

"I'm here now, aren't I? I'm trying!"

"Trying to what? Buy me off with flowers and car rides? That's not how this works. We are not okay. We are over."