Chapter 3

The world solidified around me with a sickening lurch. The scent of chalk dust and cheap floor cleaner filled my nose. I was sitting at a desk in a noisy classroom, the drone of the history teacher washing over me. I was seventeen again.

I looked down at my hands. They were unmarred by time, no wedding ring, no faint scars from kitchen accidents. They were the hands of a teenager. My heart clenched.

Across the aisle, he was staring at me. Liam Stone.

He wasn't the tired, hardened man from the system photo. This was the Liam I fell in love with. His hair was messy from running his hands through it, his eyes were bright and full of easy confidence, and when he caught me looking, his mouth curved into that familiar, heart-stopping smile. He silently mouthed the words, "You okay?"

I felt a fresh wave of nausea. This boy, so full of warmth and what I had believed was genuine affection, would grow into the man who found my very existence sickening.

I gave a short, jerky nod and immediately turned my gaze to the front of the classroom, my back ramrod straight. I could feel his confused stare on the side of my face, but I refused to look back. I had a mission to complete. My own husband wanted me to destroy us.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of the day, I threw my books into my backpack and tried to make a quick exit.

"Ava! Wait up!"

His voice, so full of youthful energy, sent a shiver down my spine. I didn't stop. I walked faster, pushing through the throng of students in the hallway.

A hand grabbed my arm, gentle but firm. "Hey, what's the rush? You've been weird all day. Did I do something?"

I turned to face him, forcing my expression to remain cold and distant. Looking at him, at his concerned face, was like twisting a knife in my own gut. "I'm just busy, Liam. I have to get home."

"Busy? We were supposed to study for the chem test together, remember? At the library." His smile faltered, replaced by a look of genuine confusion. "You promised."

I had to get away from him. I saw Noah Riley, our class president, walking by with a stack of papers. An idea sparked.

"Sorry, I forgot. I have to talk to Noah about the student council fundraiser," I said, pulling my arm free. I quickly walked over to Noah, leaving a stunned Liam standing in the middle of the hallway.

"Hey, Noah," I said, my voice a little breathless.

Noah, ever the diligent class president, stopped and gave me a small, polite smile. "Ava. Can I help you with something?"

"The fundraiser," I improvised, "I had some ideas. Can we talk about it? Maybe we can walk together?"

"Oh, sure," he said, looking a little surprised but pleased.

I didn't dare look back at Liam. I could feel his gaze burning into my back as Noah and I walked away, my forced conversation about bake sale logistics sounding hollow and fake even to my own ears.

I thought I had escaped, but as I turned onto my street, he was there, leaning against the lamppost at the entrance to the quiet alley that led to my house. The setting sun cast long shadows, and his figure looked lonely.

"Okay, what's really going on?" he asked, his voice low and serious as I approached. "Don't lie and say it's about a fundraiser. You've been avoiding my eyes all day. You look like you want to be a million miles away from me."

He was right. I did.

"Liam, I just think... we should cool it for a while," I said, the words feeling like ash in my mouth. Each one was a betrayal of the girl I used to be.

"Cool it?" He took a step closer, his face a mask of disbelief. "What are you talking about? Yesterday you were wearing my jersey. Today you won't even look at me. What happened?"

I couldn't tell him the truth. I couldn't say, "Because in eight years, you'll hate me. You'll wish I was dead so you could be free."

So I fell back on the oldest, cruelest excuse. "I just... I don't feel the same way anymore. I think we should just be friends."

His face fell. The confident swagger was gone, replaced by a raw vulnerability that I had rarely seen. "You don't mean that," he whispered. "Ava, look at me."

I forced myself to meet his gaze. "I'm serious, Liam. We should keep our distance."

What a joke. He was the one who asked for this. He was the one who was "tired" of me. But looking at his hurt, seventeen-year-old face, all I felt was a gut-wrenching pain. Why was I the one who had to do the dirty work? Why was I the one who had to break both our hearts?

"But... the championship game is on Friday," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "I was going to... I have a promise to keep."

I knew what that promise was. He was going to propose. The very event I was here to stop.

"Don't," I said, my voice sharper than I intended. "Don't you dare propose to me, Liam. Don't you dare try to sweet-talk me."

"I'm not sweet-talking you!" he insisted, his voice rising with frustration. "I really like you, Ava. I thought you liked me too. I thought we had something real."

He reached for my hand, but I snatched it away.

"I'm going to like you forever, Ava. I'll always like you."

His words, meant to be a promise, were a bitter poison. A liar. He was a goddamn liar.

"Just stay away from me, Liam," I said, my voice trembling despite my best efforts.

I turned and ran, not just walked, but ran down the alley toward my house, leaving him standing alone under the flickering streetlight. I didn't stop until I had slammed my front door shut, leaning against it as the tears I had been holding back finally streamed down my face. One mission down, a lifetime of memories turned to dust.