Part 2The Sixth Year

He lit a cigarette, and the ring on his finger caught the light—a perfect match to the one on mine.

He’d slept with me, given me a ring, but he never planned to marry me.

What was I to him, then? A tool for his pleasure? A warm body on call? A bedmate he could kick to the curb whenever he pleased?

A shiver traced its way down my spine, and I clutched the fabric of my dress over my chest. It did nothing to stop the trembling.

I couldn’t forget our first time. He’d half-coaxed, half-pleaded with me until I gave in. It hurt, a sharp, tearing pain. But it was him—the boy I’d had a crush on for what felt like a lifetime. And because it was him, even the pain became something tender, something that etched itself into my very bones.

We made it official the next day.

Was that it? Was I too easy to win, and therefore not worth holding onto?

"Are you... serious? About the engagement?"

"Of course. Who jokes about their own marriage?"

I closed my eyes, swallowing the bitter wave of grief and humiliation that rose in my throat. In front of the wrong person, every vulnerability, every tear, is just a punchline for their amusement.

"Okay," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. "I get it."

I finished dressing and started to pack. I’d lived here for six years. Every pillow, every picture frame, every goddamn plant had been chosen by me. I’d watched this place transform from a cold, empty shell into a warm, lived-in home. I had built a life here.

But now that it was time to leave, I realized how little of it was actually mine.

One suitcase was all it took.

Liam sat on the couch, watching me, a storm brewing in his eyes. He chain-smoked, his jaw tight with irritation. "Willow, what the hell are you doing? Did I say you had to leave? Even when I get married, you can still be with me..."

"So I'm supposed to be grateful? Thank you for offering me the position of your mistress? Liam, you really think that little of me!" My voice rose to a shout, sharp and raw.

His face turned to ice. "Fine. You're so pure, so noble. I'm not good enough for you! But I'm telling you right now, Willow Evans, if you walk out that door tonight, don't you ever think about coming back!"

I wiped the tears from my face, pulled the ring from my finger, and hurled it at him. It clattered on the floor between us.

"Goodbye, Liam. For good."