The Architect of My Hate

My star architect boyfriend, Liam, and I were supposed to get our marriage license. He stood me up three times.

The first time, his intern, Chloe, had a proposal rejected and was a complete wreck.

The second time, he left me on the steps of City Hall to help Chloe move.

Every time after that, it was always about Chloe.

The last time, he lied about an urgent client meeting. I braved Seattle's endless drizzle to bring a document to his firm, only to find him in his office.

He was teaching Chloe how to draw, his hand intimately guiding hers.

In that moment, a cold hatred for him took root deep inside me.

I decided then and there: I would get an abortion and leave him for good.

But after I left, he hunted me down, chasing my ghost to the ends of the earth, begging for my forgiveness.

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1

The Seattle rain was relentless, soaking me to the bone.

In stark contrast to my sodden, disheveled state, the atmosphere inside the firm was warm and intimate.

Chloe sat at the drafting table while Liam leaned over her shoulder, his hand gently covering hers as he sketched lines on the paper.

His body nearly enveloped hers, his breath brushing against her ear.

He looked every bit the attentive teacher.

I couldn't help but remember the time I'd asked Liam for a few pointers on the composition of my illustrations.

I was a talented illustrator, but I always hit a wall with composition.

I’d asked Liam for help, but he had just frowned impatiently.

"Ava, don't waste my time with these trivial things. I have multi-million dollar projects to worry about."

After that, I never discussed my work with him again.

And now, those same hands he reserved for multi-million-dollar projects were cupping Chloe's.

"Liam, I'm sorry," Chloe apologized, her eyes red and wide like a startled doe's. "I've taken up the time you were supposed to spend with Ava for your appointment again."

Liam's hand didn't even pause as he replied sternly, "Is an appointment with her more important than your career? Don't ever say something so stupid again."

My hand pressed against the cold glass wall. I could barely stay upright.

I had never truly blamed Liam for the first two cancellations.

But this time, his words were an icicle piercing straight through my heart.

The pain made me tremble.

Before I could storm in, their next exchange shattered what little was left of my soul.

"If it weren't for my welcome party that night, you wouldn't have gotten so drunk… I didn't know Ava would resort to something like that…"

"It's my fault. If I hadn't been so drunk, she wouldn't have had the chance to get pregnant and trap me into marrying her…"

Tears streamed down my face.

That day, four months ago, was my birthday.

Liam had promised to celebrate with me but claimed he had a company welcome party. He came home late, completely drunk.

As I was helping him with his coat, he pulled me down onto the bed.

He was so happy that day, holding me and wishing me a happy birthday over and over.

For five years, he had always been careful, always used protection. But not that night.

I thought he was just happy, finally letting go. But it turns out I was just catching the afterglow of his celebration for Chloe.

And now, in his words, this child had become the trap I had set to force him into marriage.

In their story, I was the villain.

The damp chill of my clothes clinging to my skin was nothing compared to the glacier forming in my heart.

Five years ago, I gave up a full scholarship to the Rhode Island School of Design, cut ties with my family, and followed Liam to this unfamiliar city. I was even willing to give up my dream of being a painter.

Because I loved him. I hoped to become his wife, to spend the rest of my life with him.

But in this moment, my heart, once brimming with love, soured into pure hatred.

I stumbled away, but the sound of a door opening behind me stopped me short.

It was followed by Liam's surprised voice.

"Ava? What are you doing here?"