Chapter 3

My first instinct was to run. I tiptoed back to my room, grabbing my purse and keys, planning to slip out before he woke up. I could go to a coffee shop, hide out for a few hours, and pretend last night never happened.

I was just about to open the front door when his voice stopped me.

"Running away?"

I froze, my hand on the doorknob. I turned slowly. He was sitting up on the couch, his hair a mess, his eyes still heavy with sleep. But he was watching me with a look that was far too awake.

"I... I was just going to get coffee," I lied, my voice weak.

He stood up and walked towards the kitchen, not me. "I' m already making some. And breakfast. You look like you need it."

He was so calm, so practical. It was infuriating. I felt like my world was tilting on its axis, and he was acting like it was just another morning. I followed him into the kitchen, a reluctant guest in my own home.

"Liam, about last night..." I started, needing to apologize, to explain.

"Don' t," he said, his back to me as he cracked eggs into a pan. "Don' t say you' re sorry. And don' t say it was a mistake."

I stared at his back, stunned into silence.

He turned around, a spatula in his hand, his expression serious. "Ava, I' m not some kid you' ve known your whole life. I haven' t seen you as just my sister' s best friend for a very long time. Last night... it wasn' t a mistake to me."

His directness floored me. I had always seen him as Liam, the sweet, lanky teenager who was always tagging along with me and Lily. But the man standing in front of me was different. He was confident, self-assured. When had that happened?

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed on the counter. The screen lit up with a name I didn' t want to see: Ethan.

The sound shattered the tense quiet in the kitchen. It felt like an intrusion, a ghost from a life that had ended less than twenty-four hours ago.

Liam' s eyes flicked to the phone, then back to my face. His jaw tightened.

I let it ring, my mind racing. What could he possibly want? To apologize again? To make sure I was okay so he could feel better about himself?

On the fourth ring, Liam reached over, picked up the phone, and swiped to answer. He put it on speaker.

"Ava? Are you there? I was so worried when you ran out last night," Ethan' s voice filled the small kitchen, smooth and concerned.

Liam looked at me, then spoke into the phone, his voice cold and hard. "She was a little busy crying her eyes out after you broke her heart. You' re a bit late with the concern."

There was a stunned silence on the other end. "Who is this?" Ethan asked, his tone shifting from concerned to confused.

I saw it then, a flash of something in Liam' s eyes. It was a fierce, protective anger that I' d seen once before. Years ago, I' d been on a terrible date with a guy who wouldn' t take no for an answer. Liam, who was only eighteen at the time but had come to pick me up, had stepped between us and told the guy to back off in a voice that left no room for argument.

He was doing it again. He was standing between me and the thing that was hurting me.

"It doesn' t matter who this is," Liam said, his gaze locked on me. He saw the turmoil in my face, the fresh wave of pain Ethan' s voice had caused. Without another word, he reached down and ended the call.

The silence that followed was deafening. He had hung up on Ethan. For me.

A strange, unfamiliar feeling fluttered in my chest. It wasn't the comfortable warmth I felt with Ethan. This was a jolt, a spark of electricity that was both terrifying and thrilling.

I took a step back, suddenly overwhelmed. My hand went to my chest, as if to calm my racing heart.

"I... you shouldn' t have done that," I whispered, but my words lacked conviction.

The guilt over Lily came rushing back. Lily, my best friend, who I missed every single day. Getting involved with her little brother felt like a betrayal. It felt wrong.

"I' m sorry," I said, my voice shaking. "I can' t do this. It' s not fair to you. It' s not fair to Lily' s memory."

Liam' s face fell. The anger was gone, replaced by a deep, weary understanding. He looked at me for a long moment, then nodded slowly.

"Okay," he said softly. "I' ll go."

He walked past me to the front door, grabbing his jacket from the hook. I watched him go, a part of me screaming in protest.

"Wait," I said, the word escaping before I could stop it. "How will you get home? Do you have your car?"

He turned, a faint, sad smile on his lips. "Ava, I' ve been letting myself into your apartment to water your plants when you' re on work trips for three years. I know where you hide the spare key. I know you never have milk on Mondays because the grocery store is too crowded. I think I can manage to get home."

The detail, the casual intimacy of his words, hit me harder than the kiss. He knew me. He saw the small, mundane parts of my life that Ethan had never bothered to notice.

He opened the door and stepped out, closing it gently behind him.

Suddenly, my apartment felt huge and empty. The smell of coffee and eggs still lingered in the air, a ghost of his presence. The silence was no longer peaceful. It was just lonely.

I tried to work later that day, staring at a blank screen, trying to come up with a logo for a new client. But the shapes wouldn't form. The colors all seemed wrong. My creativity, usually my escape, was gone. My mind was a tangled mess of Ethan' s rejection, Liam' s confession, and my own crippling confusion.

Restless, I left my apartment and just started walking. I didn't have a destination, but my feet carried me on a familiar path. Before I knew it, I was standing across the street from the sleek, modern building that housed Ethan' s architectural firm. It was a stupid, masochistic habit.

And then I saw him.

He was coming out of the front entrance, laughing. A woman was with him, her hand tucked into the crook of his arm. She was beautiful, with sharp, confident features and a stylish trench coat. She looked up at him, her face full of adoration.

It was Sarah Jenkins, a successful real estate agent I' d seen him talking to at industry events.

As I watched, hidden in the shadow of an awning, Ethan leaned down and kissed her. It wasn' t a hesitant, friendly peck. It was a real kiss, full of an easy intimacy that I had only ever dreamed of. When they broke apart, he was still smiling. It was a smile I had never seen before-not the charming one he used on clients, or the fond one he gave me. This was a bright, unguarded, genuinely happy smile.

The world tilted again, and this time, it felt like the ground had completely disappeared from beneath my feet.