Chapter 2

"Are you sure about this, Liv?" Liam' s voice was steady through the phone, a solid anchor in the swirling chaos of her mind. "You don' t have to decide everything right now."

"I' ve never been more sure of anything in my life," Liv replied, her tone leaving no room for argument. She was standing on a street corner, miles from the hospital, the city lights blurring around her. "He threw my blood in the trash, Liam. He and Chloe were laughing about it." She didn' t need to explain who they were. Liam had never liked Jake. He' d always said there was something off about him, something too smooth.

"That bastard," Liam said, his voice low and furious. "Okay. Okay, listen to me. The Maestro' s program starts in three days. I can get you a ticket for the first flight out in the morning. I' ll meet you at the airport. Just tell me what you need."

"I need to go back to the apartment," she said. "I need my guitar. And my passport."

"Liv, is that safe? Is he there?"

"No. He' s at a party with Chloe. Celebrating." The word tasted like poison. "I have a few hours. I' ll be in and out before he gets back."

"Call me if you need anything. Anything at all. I' ll be there in twenty minutes if you need me to be," he insisted.

"I know. Thanks, Liam." She hung up and hailed a cab, giving the address to the home that was no longer a home. It was just a place. A stage for a three-year-long play where she was the only one who didn' t know her lines were a lie.

The key felt cold and foreign in her hand as she unlocked the door to the apartment she shared with Jake. The space was beautiful, all clean lines and expensive furniture, a testament to Jake' s wealth. It was also filled with ghosts. Every object held a memory, now tainted and grotesque.

There on the sofa was where they' d cuddled and watched movies, his arm heavy and warm around her. Over there was the kitchen island where he' d made her breakfast, telling her she was the most important thing in his life. On the wall hung a framed photo of them in Paris, smiling, looking for all the world like a couple in love. It was all fake. A carefully constructed set.

A wave of nausea washed over her. She steadied herself against the wall, taking a deep, shuddering breath. She couldn' t break down. Not now.

She walked into the bedroom and pulled a suitcase from the top of the closet. Methodically, she began to pack. She took only what was hers, only what mattered. Clothes, toiletries, her sheet music. She left behind every gift he' d ever given her: the expensive jewelry, the designer clothes, the little trinkets. They weren' t gifts. They were props.

She went into her practice room and gently placed her beloved guitar, a custom-made Ramirez, into its hardshell case. It was the one pure thing in this house, the one thing he hadn't managed to defile. Her passport was in the desk drawer, right where she' d left it. As she took it, her fingers brushed against a small, velvet box. She opened it. Inside was a simple silver bracelet he' d given her on their first anniversary. He' d said it was to remind her that he was always with her.

For a moment, she just stared at it. Then, with a cold, deliberate movement, she dropped it into the wastebasket next to the desk. She went through the apartment, gathering every trace of their shared life. The photo from Paris came off the wall. The books he' d bought her went into a pile. She stripped the sheets from the bed, the ones they had slept in just last night, and threw them on the floor. She was erasing herself from his life, just as he had tried to erase her spirit.

She was just zipping her suitcase when she heard the front door open. Her blood ran cold.

"Liv? You' re home?" It was Jake. He sounded surprised, a little drunk.

She froze in the bedroom doorway, her heart pounding. She hadn' t been fast enough.

He walked into the living room and saw the suitcase, the bare walls, the pile of his things on the floor. A confused frown crossed his face. "What' s going on? Are you going somewhere?" He sounded genuinely bewildered, as if he had no idea what he' d done. The arrogance of it was staggering.

"I' m just doing some cleaning," she said, her voice miraculously even.

He walked toward her, his charming smile slipping back into place. He reached out to touch her face, a gesture that had once made her melt. "You' re mad about the hospital thing, aren' t you? Baby, I' m so sorry. It was a stupid joke. Mark told me you were really worried. I feel terrible."

Liv flinched away from his touch, a reflexive, violent movement that surprised even her. "Don' t," she said, her voice sharp.

Jake' s smile faltered. He looked taken aback. "Hey, what' s wrong? It was just a prank. You know how I am." He tried to laugh it off, but his eyes were watchful now. He sensed something was different.

"I' m tired, Jake," she said, pulling her suitcase toward the door. "I' m going to my brother' s for the night."

He stepped in front of her, blocking her path. "Wait. What' s this really about? Did I do something else? You know you can tell me anything." The sincerity in his voice was flawless. He was a master of his craft.

She looked him straight in the eye, her own expression a carefully constructed mask of weary resignation. She couldn't let him see the truth, the rage and the pain churning inside her. He would only use it, twist it, turn it into another game.

"It' s nothing," she said. "I just need some space."

He stared at her for a long moment, searching her face for a clue. He was confused, she could see it. He thought he had her completely under his control, that she was his loyal, loving fool who would forgive him for anything. The idea that she might actually leave him, that she might have a limit, had clearly never occurred to him.

"Okay," he said finally, stepping aside. "Okay, Liv. If that' s what you need. But call me in the morning, alright? We' ll talk."

"Sure," she said, her voice flat. "In the morning."

She walked out the door without looking back, dragging her suitcase behind her. She didn' t let herself cry, not until she was safely in a cab and speeding away, leaving the ruins of her life behind her in the dark.