Chapter 4

The next weekend, I had to face the inevitable: moving the last of my belongings out of the apartment I once shared with Mark. It was mostly bulky furniture and my second development monitor. I couldn' t do it alone. I texted Liam, my request simple and direct this time.

"Need help moving some heavy stuff tomorrow around 10 AM. Can pay for your time."

His reply was almost immediate.

"Don't worry about payment. I'll be there."

He showed up the next morning with a dolly and a determined look on his face. He was a man of few words, but his actions spoke volumes. He efficiently disconnected my workstation and carefully wrapped the monitor in a blanket. He was strong, lifting the heavy desk with an ease that made me feel safe.

We were loading my bookshelf onto the dolly when the apartment door swung open. Mark stood there, dressed in a designer shirt and smelling of expensive aftershave. Brittany was clinging to his arm, her makeup perfect, her smile smug.

They both stopped short, their eyes landing on Liam, who was holding the other end of my bookshelf.

Mark' s face tightened into a mask of rage. "What the hell is this? Who is this guy?"

"This is Liam," I said, my voice steady. "He' s helping me move my things."

"Your things?" Mark sneered, stepping into the apartment. "You mean the things I let you keep in my apartment?"

Liam set his end of the bookshelf down gently and straightened up to his full height. He didn' t say a word, but his quiet, solid presence was a shield. Mark, who was used to being the biggest personality in any room, seemed to shrink a little.

"You have five minutes to get the rest of your junk and get out," Mark snapped, his voice a low growl. He was trying to reassert his dominance, but it came off as pathetic.

"We' ll be done when we' re done," Liam said, his voice calm but unyielding. It was the first time he' d spoken, and the authority in it was undeniable.

Brittany, sensing the shift in power, tugged on Mark' s arm. "Mark, honey, let' s just go. This is so beneath you."

Mark shook her off. His jealousy was a raw, ugly thing. He pointed a finger at me. "So this is what you do? The moment I' m gone, you find some handyman to replace me? I can' t believe I ever wasted my time with you."

I felt a surge of hot anger. "You kicked me out, Mark. You' re the one who replaced me with... her."

The argument escalated into a shouting match right there in the hallway. Mark threw insults at me, calling me a failed artist, a leech. Brittany chimed in with petty, condescending remarks about my clothes.

Liam stepped between us, physically shielding me from Mark' s tirade. "That' s enough," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You need to leave them alone."

Mark puffed out his chest, but he didn' t dare touch Liam. He just glared, his face red with fury. He spat one last, venomous insult at me.

"Have fun in whatever hovel you crawled into. You' ll never be anything without me."

Then he and Brittany turned and stormed off.

I stood there, trembling, the adrenaline draining away, leaving me feeling hollow.

Liam turned to me, his face full of concern. "Are you okay?"

I nodded, unable to speak.

We finished moving the rest of my things in silence. Back at my small studio, as Liam was setting up my second monitor, he noticed the lock on my door. It was a cheap, flimsy thing that came with the apartment.

"This won' t do," he said, his brow furrowed.

He left and came back an hour later with a brand new, heavy-duty deadbolt. He installed it himself, his movements efficient and precise. It was a simple, practical gift, but it meant more to me than any piece of jewelry Mark had ever bought me. It was a gift of security. Of safety.

"Thank you, Liam," I said, touching the cool, solid metal of the new lock. "For everything."

"Everyone deserves to feel safe," he said simply.

As he was about to leave, I felt a desperate need to make him understand.

"He wasn' t always like that," I said quietly. "In the beginning, he was... different. He believed in me."

Liam just looked at me with his steady, empathetic eyes. "People show you who they really are when the pressure is on, Chloe. He showed you."

After he left, I locked my new deadbolt. The solid click of the lock sliding into place was the most satisfying sound I had ever heard.

That night, I sat in front of my dual monitors, the world of my game spread out before me. Mark's words echoed in my head. "You' ll never be anything without me."

I looked at the code I had written, the characters I had designed, the story I was building. He was wrong. I was already something. He just had been too selfish to see it.

I started to type, my fingers flying across the keyboard. I had a game to finish. And a life to build.