Part 2His Favorite Enemy

The wreckage inside my home made me freeze. The first thing I saw was the framed photo of my mother—her last picture—smashed on the floor of the entryway, a dirty footprint marring her black-and-white image.

My knees gave out, and I collapsed amidst the shards of glass, reaching for the ruined frame. My fingertips brushed against a soft, familiar object instead: my mother’s old photo album.

I flipped it open. Every single picture had been cut to ribbons. Not one was left whole.

On the inside back cover, scrawled in what looked like red lipstick, were the words: Still can’t win, Liam. -S.

The tiny shreds of my mother’s smile, of my childhood, slipped through my fingers. A roar filled my ears. These photos were the only tangible pieces of her I had left.

“It has to be Sadie,” Liam spat, his voice tight with rage. He hadn't even looked at me, hadn't seen the way I was crumbling. His eyes were fixed on the mess. “First the wedding, and now this? She’s gone too far.”

He took out his phone, his thumb hovering over her contact. “Chloe, don’t try to stop me this time. I’m going to make her pay for this.”

I reached for him, but my hand met empty air. I looked up just in time to see the front door slam back against the wall with a deafening crack that made my ears ring.

He was gone.

I don’t know how long I sat there on the floor, clutching the ruined album. An hour? Two? My fingers were numb with cold when I finally, shakily, pulled out my own phone.

Sadie had just posted a new picture to her Instagram story. It was a smug selfie, her head tilted, a triumphant glint in her eyes. The caption was a poison dart.

Some people just never learn.

As I stared at the screen, my phone started ringing. It was Liam.

“Chloe… I just remembered we were supposed to be setting up for the reception tonight,” he started, his voice rushed. “But Sadie was just… she was completely out of line. I had to go over there, for you. To make things right.” He took a breath. “I’m on my way back now…”

“Don’t bother,” I said, my voice hollow. The well of my grief was so deep it had swallowed all my other emotions.

“Liam,” I said, cutting him off before he could argue. “We need to break up.”

The words hung in the air, final. “You and Sadie… you’ve completely taken over my life.” A single, hot tear escaped and slid down my cheek, a traitor to my resolve.

They had been fighting for a decade. Over grades in college, over clients and promotions at work. And then, over me. Every fight was a category five hurricane, and I was always the person left standing in the rubble. The time they got into a shouting match over a table at a restaurant and flipped it over, leaving me to apologize to the manager. The surprise party he planned for my birthday that she crashed and ruined, forcing me to spend the rest of the night comforting him.

I had endured so much. And now, the one thing I treasured most in the world had been shredded on my floor.

Liam’s voice was panicked on the other end of the line. “Don’t cry, Chloe, please. I’m sorry, I was wrong. Just wait, I’m almost there.”

Less than ten minutes later, my door burst open and Liam rushed in, breathless. He pulled me into his arms, holding me tight.

“Chloe, I’m so, so sorry. Please don’t break up with me. We can fix this.” He pulled back, his eyes pleading. “I’ll never get tangled up with Sadie again. I promise.”

I looked up at his face, a mask of guilt and desperation. He was always like this. No matter how badly he messed up, he always knew how to rush back, how to say the right thing. He was perfect in every way… except for Sadie. And that one exception was the wound that was killing me.

I gently pushed him away. I was silent for a long moment before my voice emerged, quiet and cold.

“You want to cut her out of your life for good?” I asked. “I have a way. Liam, we’re going to sue her.”

He stared at me, blinking. “Sue her?”

“For breaking and entering. For destruction of property.” I held his stunned gaze. “You hate her, don’t you? Isn’t this what you want? To send her a message she can’t ignore? A few months of legal trouble might finally get her to back off.”

Without waiting for an answer, I stood up and walked toward the door. “Let’s go. Right now.”