Chapter 1

The fire alarm was a piercing scream that ripped me from my sleep. Smoke, thick and acrid, was already slithering under the bedroom door.

"Liam!" I yelled, my voice choked with panic.

I scrambled out of bed, my heart hammering against my ribs. The hallway was a haze of gray and orange. I couldn't see anything.

"Liam, where are you?"

I stumbled towards the living room, my eyes burning. That' s when I saw him. He was already at the apartment door, but he wasn' t alone. He had Chloe Jenkins in his arms, carrying her like she weighed nothing.

She was coughing, her face buried in his chest. He kicked the door open and rushed out into the main hallway of the building without a single look back. He ran right past me.

I just stood there, frozen in the middle of our living room, as the heat intensified around me. He had left me. He ran out with his childhood friend and left me in our burning apartment.

A neighbor grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the exit. "Come on! We have to get out!"

Down on the street, the cold night air was a shock. I watched as Liam gently set Chloe down on the curb, fussing over her, checking her ankle. She had sprained it a few days ago. I remembered because Liam had canceled our date night to take her to the emergency room.

He finally seemed to remember I existed and his eyes found me in the crowd. He started walking towards me, his face a mask of concern.

"Ava, are you okay? I was so worried."

I just stared at him. The words didn't make any sense.

Ben Carter, Liam' s best friend, jogged over and clapped him on the shoulder. "Man, that was close. Good thing you got Chloe out. With her sprained ankle, she would've never made it down the stairs."

He looked at me and smiled, as if he were explaining something simple to a child. "You're fine, right, Ava? You're strong. Chloe needed him."

I felt a surge of irritation. They were talking about me like I wasn't even there, like my fear and my life were less important.

"I'm not okay," I said, my voice dangerously quiet.

Liam' s face tensed. "What do you mean? You're safe. I made sure Chloe was safe because she was injured. It was a logical decision."

"A logical decision?" I repeated the words, disbelief washing over me. "I was in there, Liam. In our home. You ran right past me."

"Ava, don't be dramatic," Ben cut in. "He did the responsible thing."

"Responsible?" I laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. I turned my back on them and walked away. I couldn't look at their faces anymore. The betrayal felt like a physical weight in my chest.

I went to my friend Sarah's place. I didn't say a word, just collapsed on her couch. The next morning, I went back to what was left of our apartment building. Firefighters were still there. It was a total loss.

I found a cheap, furnished studio to rent that same day. I packed a small bag with the few things I had on me and moved in. I didn't tell Liam. I didn't tell anyone but Sarah.

The place was small and smelled like stale paint, but it was mine. I sat on the lumpy mattress on the floor and stared at the blank walls. It felt empty, but it also felt like a breath of fresh air. A sad, lonely breath, but fresh all the same.

A few days later, a delivery arrived at my new office. It was a massive bouquet of white lilies, my favorite flower. There was no card, but I knew who they were from.

This was Liam' s signature move.

I stared at the flowers, feeling a complicated mix of emotions. A small part of me wanted to be happy, to see this as a real apology. But the bigger part of me felt nothing but a tired sort of disgust.

I remembered all the other times. The time he forgot my birthday and a diamond necklace appeared on my desk the next day. The time he missed my father's funeral because of a "work emergency" that turned out to be a golf trip with clients, and a new car was delivered to my office a week later.

It was always the same pattern. Screw up, ignore my feelings, then throw an expensive gift at the problem until I got tired of being angry and gave in. He never actually talked about it. He never truly apologized. He just bought his way out of guilt.

This time, it felt different. It felt insulting. He thought a bouquet of flowers could erase the image of him abandoning me in a fire.

I picked up the heavy glass vase. My hand was shaking with a rage that had been simmering for days. I walked over to the large trash can in the corner of my office.

Without hesitating, I tipped the vase over and dumped the entire bouquet, water and all, into the trash. The flowers landed with a wet, heavy thud.

The moment I sat back down at my desk, my phone buzzed. It was Liam. The timing was so perfect it was almost funny.

He always did this. Waited just long enough for the gift to arrive and then called, pretending nothing was wrong.

I answered.

"Hey," he said, his voice calm and even. "How are you settling in at work this week?"

He didn't mention the fire. He didn't mention the flowers. He didn't mention the fact that we were, for all intents and purposes, broken up. It was like he was trying to rewind time to before the alarm went off, to a world where he hadn't made his choice so clear.

I was just quiet. I didn't know what to say to that level of denial.