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?"

I turned and met Liam's gaze.

He took in my rain-soaked, miserable state, and his brow furrowed in a tight frown.

"What are you doing here? I told you not to come to the firm during work hours. This isn't a place for you to just drop by."

His stern expression was a world away from the gentle look he’d just given Chloe.

I should have been sad, just like all the other times he'd dismissed me.

But at this moment, all I felt was an icy numbness.

"You said on the phone you had an urgent meeting. I was worried, so I came to bring you something to eat."

I had waited at City Hall for half the day. It was almost closing time before I finally got ahold of him.

I had rushed over, frantic.

I was glad I came.

Otherwise, I don’t know how much longer I would have been made a fool of.

He paused, his eyes flickering away from mine guiltily.

"You misheard. It wasn't a meeting, Chloe was…"

"No, you're right. It's my fault," I cut him off.

It was me. I was the one who was wrong.

Wrong from the very beginning.

"Well, I'll get out of your hair then."

I turned to leave.

Liam didn't follow. Chloe was crying.

"Is Ava mad at me? It's all my fault… I'm so sorry for putting you in a difficult position…"

Liam comforted her in a low voice, "It's not your fault. She's just being inconsiderate."

I quickened my pace.

On the car ride home, a call came from Liam. I didn't want to answer, but he kept calling, again and again.

"Hello?"

"You're not busy for the next few days, are you?"

Liam's voice had softened.

I remained silent.

He continued, "Chloe has to pull some all-nighters to meet a project deadline."

"Since you're free, could you make some dinner and bring it over for her?"

"She's a young girl, new to the firm, with no one to look after her. As the future boss's wife, you should take care of her."

Liam’s voice was filled with a genuine concern I’d never heard him use for me.

But I had cut off my family for him. I often cried myself to sleep at night, homesick.

He was all I had in this city.

He had never shown me that kind of concern.

That kind of tenderness is reserved for someone you truly love.

It took me five years to understand that simple truth.

Sensing my silence, Liam was about to say more.

But I simply replied, "Okay."

The other end of the line went quiet.

Liam probably hadn't expected me to agree so readily.

After all, I would be cooking for the other woman, the one he was so intimate with.

But he didn't know. I had already decided to leave him.

Before I even went to the firm, I had scheduled an abortion for three days later and bought a one-way ticket to Paris.

Liam once told me that a marriage license couldn't hold him, only my love could.

Since my love couldn't hold him either, I didn't want him anymore.

When I got home, I called building maintenance myself.

The faucet had been leaking for two weeks. Liam said he would fix it but kept putting it off.

He was busy, he said. Busy comforting Chloe, who was always having some crisis or another.

I kept waiting, just as I had waited for the marriage he promised.

But our relationship, much like that faucet, was broken beyond repair.

The moment the repairman finished, a sense of calm washed over me.

It turned out I could survive without Liam.

Liam didn't come home that night.

The next day, as promised, I brought Chloe her meal.

The second night, Liam still didn't come home.

On the afternoon of the third day, as I was heading downstairs with the lunch box, I saw Liam waiting by the roadside.

He was leaning against his car, smoking, his profile handsome.

I was surprised to see him.

He strode toward me, took the lunch box, and said, "Thanks for your hard work…"

He would drag his feet on marrying me, yet here he was, unable to wait a moment longer for Chloe's dinner.

The sheer absurdity of it made a bitter, silent laugh escape me.

He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "I'm sorry. It was wrong of me to cancel our appointment again. How about this, as soon as Chloe's project is over, we'll go get married."

I felt none of my previous joy, my mind just raced, searching for a way to refuse.

Until his phone rang.

The name "Chloe" on the screen stung my eyes.

He answered, and not two seconds later, he turned anxiously.

"Chloe's feeling sick. I have to go check on her. You head home, okay? Take care of yourself."

Just like countless times before, Chloe's call was a royal summons, and he was her ever-loyal servant.

I watched him leave. When I got home, I started packing.

Since I was the one who had moved into his life, I didn't have much to pack. It didn't take long.

I looked around the apartment. Even with my luggage packed, the place didn't look any different.

Just like my presence, my absence made no real difference.

I was about to rest when a new friend request popped up on my Instagram. The message read, "Ava, it's Chloe."

I accepted.

I regretted it a second later.

I knew she wouldn't have anything nice to say, I just didn't expect her to be so brazen.