Chapter 2

Ava stumbled into her dark room, the invitation crumpled in her fist. The sharp corners dug into her palm. She didn't turn on the light. The darkness was a comfort, hiding the tears that streamed down her face.

She collapsed onto her bed, her mind replaying Liam's cold words, Martha's slap, the sight of that invitation. It all blurred into a whirlwind of pain. Why him? Why had she fallen for the one person she could never have?

The memory surfaced, unbidden. She was ten years old, a lonely child in a house that never felt like a home after her mother died and her father remarried. Martha and Chloe had treated her like an unwanted piece of furniture. One day, Liam, her father's close friend whom she had always called "uncle," had visited. He' d found her crying quietly in the garden. He hadn't said much, but he had crouched down and pressed a piece of candy into her hand. "Sweet things help," he'd said softly. It was the first kindness she' d received in years. That was when her habit started, and her love.

Now, that memory felt like a cruel joke.

Desperate, she fled the apartment. She ran through the night, the cold air burning her lungs, all the way to Liam's luxury apartment building. She buzzed his intercom relentlessly until a sleepy, angry voice answered.

"Who is it?"

"It's me. Ava. Please, I need to talk to you."

A long silence, then the click of the door unlocking.

He was waiting for her at his door, dressed in silk pajamas, his face a mask of irritation. His eyes scanned her disheveled appearance, the red mark on her cheek, and his expression hardened into disgust.

"What new drama is this, Ava?"

"It's not drama," she whispered, stepping inside. "The engagement... with Chloe. Is it true?"

"It is," he said, his voice flat.

"Don't marry her," Ava begged, grabbing his arm. Her voice was thin and reedy. "Please, Liam. Don't marry her."

He yanked his arm away from her. "This has gone too far. You need to leave. Now." He grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her forcefully toward the door.

"No, please, listen to me!" she cried, stumbling.

"Get out!" he roared, shoving her out into the hallway. The heavy door slammed shut with a deafening bang, the sound echoing the shattering of her heart.

She slid down the wall, her body trembling. Her chest felt tight, and she struggled to breathe. A couple from a neighboring apartment came out, looking at her with disdain.

"Look at this," the woman said loudly. "Trying to seduce Mr. Hayes again. So pathetic."

The man laughed. "Some people have no shame."

Ava felt a hot surge of anger. "Shut up," she rasped.

The woman sneered. "What did you say, you little whore?"

Something inside Ava snapped. She grabbed a small decorative stone from a planter in the hallway and threw it, not at the woman, but at the wall next to her. It was a gesture of pure, helpless rage.

The woman shrieked. Just then, Liam's door flew open again. He saw the scene-the crying woman, the stone on the floor, and Ava, on her knees, looking wild and broken.

"Ava!" His voice was like ice. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Harassing my neighbors now? Have you no decency at all?"

His words cut deeper than any physical blow. He didn't even ask what happened. He just condemned her.