Chapter 2

Ava lay in her dark room, the sting on her cheek a dull ache compared to the gaping wound in her chest. The heavy, expensive paper of the invitation felt sharp against her skin. Liam Hayes & Chloe Jenkins.

She closed her eyes, and the darkness pulled her back in time.

She was ten years old, a scared, skinny kid at her father' s funeral. Her own mother had died years before, and she was left with a stepmother, Martha, who barely tolerated her existence. She had stood alone in a corner, invisible, until a boy, not much older than a teenager himself, knelt down in front of her.

It was Liam. He had a kind face back then. He had pushed a piece of candy into her palm. "It's sweet," he'd said softly. "It helps when things are bitter."

That was the day her world, which had been gray and cold, found its only source of light. It was the day she started loving Liam Hayes. It was the day she started carrying candy in her pockets.

The memory was a comfort and a curse. She sat up, her body screaming in protest, and looked at the bruises already forming on her arm from where Martha had grabbed her. She couldn't stay here. She had to see him. She had to ask him if it was true.

It was late when she arrived at his pristine, modern house. Rain began to fall, cold and miserable. She pressed the doorbell again and again, her knuckles white.

Finally, the door opened. Liam stood there, dressed in a silk robe, his hair damp. His eyes, once kind, were now filled with pure annoyance and disgust as they took in her disheveled state.

"Ava, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Is it true?" she asked, her voice breaking. "Are you really marrying Chloe?"

"It's none of your business," he said, trying to close the door.

She stuck her foot in the way, desperate. "Please, Liam. Don't marry her. She's not right for you. Her mother... you don't know her mother."

"I know that you are a problem I no longer want in my life," he said coldly. "And I know that her mother is a thousand times better than you are." He pushed the door hard, and she stumbled back.

"Please," she begged, her hands flat against the wood. "Just talk to me."

The door slammed shut with a deafening bang.

She slid down to the ground, the rain plastering her thin shirt to her skin. A car slowed as it passed, the people inside pointing and laughing at the pathetic girl crying on the doorstep of the great Liam Hayes. One of them, a woman in a fur coat, rolled down her window.

"Look at that trash. Someone should call security."

Ava felt a surge of rage. She grabbed a small rock from the manicured garden bed and threw it, not even caring where it landed. It clattered harmlessly against the pavement.

But the car stopped. The woman got out, her face furious. "Did you just throw a rock at me?"

Before Ava could respond, the front door opened again. It was Liam. He didn't look at the woman; he looked straight at Ava, his face a mask of cold fury.

"You are just like your father," he said, his voice cutting through the rain. "Always causing trouble. Always a disgrace."