Chapter 3

The first thing I did was call the travel agent.

"Hello, this is Ava Miller. I' m calling about the honeymoon package booked under my name and Liam Hayes."

"Yes, Ms. Miller! Your trip to Paris. Everything is confirmed."

"I need to change it," I said, looking out the car window at the city speeding by. "Cancel my ticket. The ticket for Liam Hayes remains, but I need you to add a new passenger. Her name is Sarah Johnson."

The agent was flustered, but I was firm. I paid for any and all change fees with my own credit card. I even upgraded their seats to first class. It was a petty, symbolic gesture, but it felt good. It was a clean break.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I could breathe. The constant, heavy weight that had been sitting on my chest for ten years was gone. The obsession, the need for Liam' s approval, the toxic love... it had all vanished with my death. Now, all I felt was a vast, quiet sense of relief.

The next morning, I drove to the university. I had been a fine arts major, a path I' d chosen solely because Liam had once casually mentioned he liked a painting I did when we were teenagers. My entire life had been built around him.

No more.

I walked into the registrar' s office, the smell of old paper and floor wax a comforting anchor to this new reality. I filled out the withdrawal form with a steady hand and then walked over to the business school to pick up an application for their MBA program.

As I was leaving the building, I heard their voices.

I froze, ducking behind a large pillar. It was Liam and Sarah, standing near the campus lake.

Sarah was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Liam stood beside her, his posture stiff, but he was listening.

"She did it just to humiliate me, Liam," Sarah was saying, her voice a pathetic whimper. "Giving me her flowers, telling me to go on her honeymoon. She just wanted everyone to see how magnanimous she is and how pitiful I am. She' s always had to have the upper hand, always had to make sure I knew my place."

Liam didn' t say anything, but he reached out and awkwardly patted her shoulder.

My stomach turned. It was the same act, the same manipulation. And he was falling for it, just like he always did.

"Ava? What are you doing here?"

Liam' s voice, sharp and cold, cut through my thoughts. He had spotted me.

I stepped out from behind the pillar, my business school application clutched in my hand.

He strode over to me, his eyes dark and accusatory. Sarah trailed behind him, peeking at me from behind his shoulder like a frightened mouse.

"Are you following us?" he demanded. "What new drama are you trying to start now? Isn' t ruining our wedding enough for you?"

The accusation was so unfair, so typical of the old Liam, that a part of me wanted to scream. The old Ava would have. She would have cried, yelled, and defended herself, digging herself into a deeper hole.

But I wasn' t the old Ava.

I held my ground, my expression calm.

"No, Liam. I wasn' t following you. I came to withdraw from the fine arts program." I held up the completed form as proof.

He stared at the paper, then back at my face, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Withdraw? Why?"

"Because I don' t want to be an artist," I said simply. I then held up the other folder. "I' m applying to the business school. I want to work for my dad' s company."

I looked past him to Sarah, who was watching me with wide, wary eyes. I gave her a small, genuine smile.

"I meant what I said at the church, Sarah," I said, my voice sincere. "From now on, I won' t be in your way. In the past, I always wanted to one-up you, to prove I was better. I' m sorry for that. It was childish. I hope you and Liam can be happy together."

Liam' s eyes narrowed. He scrutinized my face, searching for any sign of deceit. The idea that I could be sincere, that I could genuinely want to step away, was so alien to him that he couldn' t process it.

"What are you planning, Ava?" he said, his voice laced with suspicion. "Another one of your schemes to make me feel guilty? To make me come crawling back?"

The bitterness in his tone was familiar. He saw me as a manipulator, a villain. And in my past life, I had given him every reason to.

But this time was different.