I genuinely thought I was dating Liam. That is, until he casually said: "Hey, my girlfriend is coming to visit. You should probably stay somewhere else for a while." I completely froze, the words slipping out before I could stop them: "Aren't I your girlfriend?" His response was an unapologetic, mocking laugh. "Seriously? I was just messing around, and you actually took it seriously?" 1 I pressed my swollen, feverish lips together. For a terrifying second, I couldn't tell if he was joking or being completely serious. Liam's devastatingly handsome face was inches from mine. His alluring, slightly slanted eyes held a faint, teasing smirk—the kind of look that made people weak in the knees. I turned my head away. The floor from the entryway to the living room was littered with our discarded clothes. Just a second ago, we were completely intertwined. "I'm dead serious this time." Liam grabbed my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye. "It's Chloe. The childhood sweetheart I've always loved. You can't ruin this for me, okay?" My nose stung. I violently ripped myself from his grip and looked down. Chloe. I hadn't heard that name in years. When Liam first came to live with my family, he would cry out her name in his sleep almost every night. He constantly begged his mom to let him go see 'Chloe,' but she always firmly refused. I don't know exactly when it happened, but he eventually stopped bringing it up. He stopped saying her name. I thought he had forgotten... Seeing me stay silent for so long, Liam leaned down, inspecting my face. "Wait, seriously? You didn't actually fall for me, did you? I'm five years younger than you! You really want to be a cradle snatcher?" He threw his head back, laughing as he sprawled out on the sofa. "If my mom knew this was how you were 'taking care' of me, what do you think she'd say?" His words felt like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head, chilling me to the bone. I blinked rapidly, stubbornly refusing to let the tears fall. "I-I'll go pack my things." I shoved his legs off of me, frantically grabbed my clothes from the floor, and pulled them on. I practically sprinted into my bedroom, grabbing whatever clothes I could find and shoving them into a suitcase. Liam threw on a pair of sweatpants and leaned against my doorframe, arms crossed, watching me in silence. The profound, agonizing shame of feeling completely naked and exposed in public crushed me so completely I couldn't even lift my head. 2 I genuinely believed Liam and I were dating. We lived under the same roof. We did everything together. We hugged, kissed, and made love in every corner of this apartment, exactly like a couple. He loved the nightlife, often staying out at clubs until the early hours of the morning. No matter how late it was, he would always call me to come pick him up, claiming it was an exclusive "girlfriend privilege." When his frat-bro friends chanted for us to get married, he would pull me into his arms and say I was the boss of the house, warning them not to scare me away. He would wrap his arms around my neck and whine until I made him midnight snacks. And when the nosy aunties downstairs chased me around trying to set me up on blind dates, he would grab my hand, kiss me right in front of them, and publicly claim me. But apparently, in his mind, every single one of those things was just a hilarious joke. Dragging my suitcase to the intersection, I felt completely, utterly lost. For the past five years, my entire life consisted of exactly two things: Liam, and work. Now that I had left his apartment, I literally didn't know where to go. "If you don't know where to go, go make some money." My director took my suitcase from me, looking at me with deep sympathy. "Fuckboys play with your feelings. Money doesn't." She slid a transfer application form across her desk. She had asked me to transfer to the corporate headquarters with her countless times. I always refused, claiming I preferred "stability." The real reason, of course, was that I didn't want to do long-distance with Liam. But now... "You aren't still in love with him, are you?" I stared blankly for a second before answering honestly, "I don't know." Claiming I felt absolutely nothing would be a lie. We had known each other for nineteen years, and we were in love... Wait, no. We were in a situationship for five years. You don't just erase that kind of history overnight. But I still took the transfer application. Leaving was the most dignified exit I could possibly manage. 3 I just didn't expect to step foot in Liam's apartment again so soon. Liam's phone was turned off again. Unable to reach him, his mother defaulted to calling me. She gently reminded me to take good care of him and drop off his lunch. I didn't even have a chance to explain our current situation to her. After agonizing over it, I caved. When I was eleven, Aunt Sarah married my dad, bringing Liam with her. It was the first time I had ever experienced a mother's love. Later, my dad was killed in a horrific car accident, and the severe injuries I sustained left me with a permanent limp in my right leg. For three agonizing days in that hospital bed, I was consumed by absolute despair and terror. I didn't even dare close my eyes. Right when I was at my most isolated and broken, Aunt Sarah and Liam rushed to the hospital. "Don't be scared. You still have me and Liam. We will always be your family." Her voice was so gentle, and the way she wiped away my tears was so tender. Even after she eventually reconciled and remarried her ex-husband, she never neglected me. She even used my father's entire life insurance payout to send me abroad for specialized medical treatment. I could say no to anyone in the world, except Aunt Sarah. But when I opened the door, the painfully familiar apartment felt like a silent interrogation, forcing me to confront the memories I was desperately trying to suppress. Flashbacks of our intimacy assaulted me, ultimately freezing on the humiliating image of me fleeing the apartment last night. The vase I had accidentally shattered in the entryway was already replaced. The sunflowers I bought yesterday were gone, replaced by a massive bouquet of red roses. My favorite Stitch plushie was missing from the sofa, and the living room was spotlessly clean. For Liam, this was practically a miracle. Ever since I moved in, I was the one who did every single chore, big or small. I couldn't remember the last time he had voluntarily cleaned anything. "Liam? Liam?" I called out softly. The door to his bedroom was shut tight. No answer. I gripped the takeout bag tighter. After a few seconds of hesitation, I pushed the handle down. "Liam? Your mom wants you to wake up and eat..." The bedroom was thick with a very specific, undeniable scent. Clothes were scattered haphazardly across the rug. Under the tangled duvet on the bed, two bodies were pressed intimately together. One of them was Liam. My voice woke him up. He aggressively rubbed his face, his morning voice dripping with intense irritation: "What do you want?!" The girl next to him stirred, her eyes half-closed as she nuzzled into the crook of his neck, before settling back into a peaceful sleep. The reality of the scene crashed over me like a tidal wave, wave after agonizing wave completely obliterating my thoughts. My brain was entirely blank. It actually hurt. "My mom made you bring me food again? How long has that been sitting there? It's probably soggy by now. Just eat it yourself." "I'm not making her eat takeout on her first day here anyway. I'm taking her out to a nice place, and then I'll cook for her tonight." Liam propped himself up on one elbow, revealing a chest covered in fresh hickeys. His utterly dismissive tone echoed in my head. It felt like I was choking on glass. 4 I remembered my thirtieth birthday. I had been so incredibly hopeful, just wanting him to personally cook me a simple bowl of noodles for tradition. And how did he respond? Oh, right. He threw his phone aside, wrapped his arms around me, bit my earlobe, and used that low, magnetic voice to lazily reject me: "So greedy. I already took the day off to stay home with you, isn't that enough? Cooking is too much work. Let's just order takeout so we don't have to wash dishes." In that moment, the smile froze on my face, and all my quiet hopes shattered into dust. As he shamelessly continued to initiate intimacy, I forced myself to swallow the disappointment. I rationalized it, telling myself that as a stereotypical "straight guy," it was completely normal for him to lack romance and understand the importance of milestones. But looking at him now. It wasn't that he didn't understand. He just couldn't be bothered to put in the effort for me. "Liam, is this the older lady who lives with you? I want to get up, do you think she could... give us some privacy?" The woman's soft, groggy voice cut through the silence. Her large, shimmering eyes stared directly at me. The older lady who lives with him? I instinctively looked at Liam. He was the one who had sneaked into my company dorms multiple times while I was at work, packing my things and moving them to his apartment. He was the one who explicitly told me that this was my home now, and that I was the woman of the house. But right now, he couldn't even be bothered to look at me. He was entirely focused on gently running his fingers through the woman's hair. I opened my mouth, but swallowed the words before they could escape. Anything I said would just make me look like an even more pathetic, desperate clown. I turned around and practically sprinted out the door, feeling exactly like a humiliated, defeated coward. Staring at the completely cold bowl of wonton soup in my hands. I aggressively cursed my own cowardice and hated myself for crying so easily. And Liam wasn't about to let me go quietly. Barely thirty minutes later, he called me. "Didn't I specifically tell you not to ruin this for me?! Can you use your brain for one second?! You're thirty years old, do you not know how to knock on a bedroom door?!" "Your little stunt terrified Chloe! She was being perfectly polite to you, and you just threw a fit and ran off! Now she feels incredibly awkward, and I have to spend all my time trying to calm her down!" "This is an absolute nightmare! I never should have taken pity on you and let you stay here!" His voice grew louder and more piercing with every word. My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles turned white. My hand was shaking. Just as I finally gathered the courage to speak, the line went completely dead. I was the one who was completely blindsided, humiliated, and publicly degraded. How did I end up being the one who did everything wrong? 5 I never, in my wildest dreams, imagined our relationship would end up like this. The first time I met Liam, he was only 6 years old. He barely came up to my waist, but he stood in front of my dad and swore, in his squeaky little voice, that he would never let anyone bully me. From that day on, whenever he wasn't in school, he was basically superglued to my side, following me around like a little tail. In other families, the older sibling compromises for the younger one. In ours, it was the exact opposite. Whenever he got a new toy, he would look at me with big, expectant eyes, insisting I play with it first. Whenever he had a delicious snack, the very first bite was always offered to me. After school, he would always wait for me at the gates. The second he saw me, he'd launch himself at me like a happy little deer, excitedly chattering about everything that happened that day. Even when relatives gave him red envelopes for Lunar New Year, he would immediately hand all the cash over to me, looking incredibly proud as he asked me to keep it safe for him. A younger brother like that was literally an angel. But all of that joy and warmth was violently annihilated in a car crash three years later. After my dad passed away, a tiny Liam knelt in front of his grave and solemnly swore he would protect me forever. When his parents got back together, he literally went on a hunger strike, threatening his grandparents until they finally agreed to let me live with him. When his grandmother called me a "cursed jinx," he didn't hesitate for a second. He immediately stepped in front of me to defend me, and spent all his saved-up allowance on candy to make me feel better. All those warm, beautiful memories were real. But now, he was saying he regretted it. When he was twenty, he snuck into my room, his face burning red, and clumsily stole my first kiss. He didn't say he regretted it then. Throughout the years, playing all those ambiguous, flirtatious games with me in front of all his friends... he didn't say he regretted it then. When he turned twenty-five, and we finally crossed that final line, half-resisting, half-yielding... he didn't say he regretted it then. And now, just because my presence made his precious childhood sweetheart slightly uncomfortable, he was completely obliterating all the laughter, the tears, the deep affection, and the years of companionship we had shared. The massive, agonizing chasm between the past and the present finally broke me. I couldn't stop the tears from falling. ... I only want to see you, only want to see you, in the future and the past... My ringtone suddenly shattered the silence. The name 'Liam' glared mockingly on the screen. I hesitated. My emotions were a chaotic, tangled mess. After agonizing over it for a long time, I finally answered: "Aunt Sarah told me to bring you lunch. If there's an issue with that, you can..." "Mia. I'm so sorry." A soft, sobbing voice interrupted my defense. It was Chloe. "Liam just told me he yelled at you. It's all my fault for being so sensitive and making you feel bad. He was just overly anxious about me, and he lost his temper. I'm apologizing for him. Please don't take it to heart." "I know an apology isn't enough. If you have time in the next few days, I want to take you shopping to make it up to you. You can pick out whatever you want. Please, just give me a chance to fix this." Chloe's tone was incredibly humble and apologetic. It completely threw me off. After all, she had almost nothing to do with what actually happened, yet Liam, the one solely responsible, was aggressively defending her. Right on cue, frustrated by my prolonged silence, Liam sounded even more annoyed than Chloe: "Mia, Chloe is literally apologizing to you personally! What more do you want?! Don't forget that if it wasn't for me and my mom, you'd be a crippled, useless orphan on the streets!" Liam's words were like a jagged knife plunged directly into my heart. He ruthlessly tore open my deepest, most agonizing scars, dragging my most vulnerable insecurities into the light, offering them up as a sacrifice to the woman he truly loved.
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