Chapter 3

Backstage was chaos.

Reporters, photographers, well-wishers.

I was trying to navigate my way to Liam, who was being momentarily held up by an old acquaintance, when a hand gripped my arm, hard.

I spun around.

Ethan.

His eyes were no longer cool and detached, they were blazing.

"What the hell was that, Maya?" he hissed, his voice low and furious, his grip tightening.

"What was what, Ethan?" I asked, trying to pull my arm free.

"That vlog! You leaked it, didn't you? For publicity! To stir things up before the awards!"

His accusation was so outrageous, so typical of his self-absorbed worldview, that I almost laughed.

"You think I orchestrated that?" I said, my voice rising despite myself. "You think I wanted that ancient history dragged out for the world to see? You think I enjoyed watching you publicly humiliate our past, and by extension, me, on national television?"

His face contorted. "Don't play innocent with me, Maya. You always were good at that."

"The only one who betrayed our past was you, Ethan," I shot back, finally yanking my arm free. "You were the one who decided our dreams, our promises, weren't as important as your solo career and your new arm candy."

His jaw tightened, a muscle twitching. "Brittany has nothing to do with this."

"Oh, I think she does," I said, my eyes flicking to where Brittany was now approaching, her expression thunderous. "She seems to be the main beneficiary of your... selective memory."

Before he could retort, my phone buzzed in my clutch.

A text from Liam.

"Hubby here. Saw the confrontation. Need me to go full protective tech mogul on pretty boy? 😉 Also, you looked amazing. That vlog though... you were cute. Just sayin' . My wife, the viral college sweetheart. Almost makes me jealous. Almost. ❤️ L."

A small smile touched my lips despite the tension. Liam. Always knowing how to cut through the drama, how to make me feel grounded.

I looked back at Ethan, his face still a mask of anger and suspicion.

"You know, Ethan," I said, my voice calm now, the anger replaced by a weary sort of pity. "For someone who claims to have moved on, you seem awfully invested in a past you supposedly don't remember."

Brittany reached us then, her hand possessively on Ethan' s arm. "Ethan, darling, are you alright? Is she bothering you?" Her voice was saccharine sweet, but her eyes were daggers.

"We were just discussing ancient history, Brittany," I said, giving her a cool smile. "Something your boyfriend seems to have a talent for rewriting."

I turned and walked away, leaving them standing there, the murmur of the backstage crowd fading as I searched for Liam.

He met me halfway, his smile warm and genuine. "You okay?"

"Better now," I said, taking his outstretched hand. "Let's get out of here."

"My thoughts exactly," he said, leading me towards the exit. "Though, I have to admit, watching Ethan squirm was a little satisfying."

"Just a little?" I teased.

"Okay, a lot," he conceded, his eyes twinkling. "But you, Maya, you handled that with grace. And you won. That' s what matters."

He was right. I had won.

But the echoes of the past, it seemed, were determined to keep playing.