Part 1The Sixth Year

In my sixth year with Liam Goodwin, he got engaged to someone else. Behind my back.

I moved out of his apartment that same night, tossing the matching ring we wore into the trash on my way out. After putting in for a transfer, I left the sprawling metropolis of Southport and returned to my seaside hometown, Seabrook.

Slowly, I began to piece together a life that didn't revolve around him.

And then, on Christmas Eve, I saw him on a snowy street in Seabrook. Liam, who was supposed to be a thousand miles away.

The wind whipped around him, but he still stood tall and impossibly handsome. The only difference was the unfamiliar flush of red rimming his eyes.

"Willow," he pleaded, his voice cracking. "What do I have to do to make you come back to me?"

* * *

Liam had just returned from a month-long business trip to North Island, so when he got back, neither of us could keep our hands to ourselves.

He was holding me, kissing me until the world melted away, when the phone on the nightstand started to ring.

I glanced over casually.

The world didn't just melt—it froze. I was plunged into an abyss of ice, a chill seeping deep into my bones.

The name flashing on the screen was "Fiancée."

With one hand, he picked up the phone, his voice a gentle murmur as he discussed wedding venues and floral arrangements with another woman.

His other hand was still tangled in the fabric of my shirt.

I shoved him away, my body trembling as I stumbled out of bed, fumbling for the dress and stockings he’d peeled off me and left on the floor.

Liam ended the call, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What's with the attitude?"

My back was to him, my shaking hands struggling to pull up the zipper on my dress. "Aren't you going to explain? About your fiancée?"

He let out a lazy, dismissive laugh. "What's there to explain?"

I spun around to face him. "Who is she?"

"...Sophia Yates."

I froze. I’d heard that name before, years ago. We had only just gotten together when his father had found him, demanding he break things off with me and agree to a strategic marriage with the sole heiress of the Yates family.

He had refused, flat out. He even bought this very apartment and asked me to move in with him.

Back then, I thought his love for me was real. All his friends knew about us; they called me by his last name, jokingly referring to me as the "Mrs." I had keys to his home, his office. Before he left for North Island, he’d even set a date to come home with me for Christmas to finally meet my parents.

Every single thing he did felt like what a real partner would do. I never, not for a second, imagined he would get engaged to someone else.

Meeting my look of utter disbelief, Liam just shrugged with a casual smile. "Why so shocked? I'm twenty-eight. It's perfectly normal to have a fiancée."

The words hit me like a club to the head. Blood rushed to my ears, a dull roar drowning out everything else. "Then what about us? What did the last ten years mean to you?"

His patience wore thin. He swung his legs out of bed and started pulling on his clothes. "Honestly, this whole interrogation is getting old. We're adults, Willow. Sleeping together, living together... what does any of it really prove? I never once said anything about marrying you."