Chapter 3

Aria's POV

I clutched the cardboard box, walking out of the magazine building.

The afternoon sun was a bit harsh, and I instinctively squinted.

My colleagues, as if on cue, didn't follow me out. Instead, they waved excitedly from behind the floor-to-ceiling windows, grinning like they were watching a rom-com unfold.

In their eyes, this was a romantic gesture.

I stopped in front of the car.

Liam stubbed out the cigarette between his fingers, then looked up at me, his expression cold.

"Liam," I said, my voice flat.

He frowned, correcting me, "Respect."

I scoffed internally but complied. "Right. I'll remember that."

"I apologize for last night," he finally said, though his tone held no hint of remorse. "I was too impulsive."

I laughed.

Sure enough, his next sentence exposed his "apology" as a mere prelude to a lecture.

"But pushing Maeve down the stairs was still wrong," he said, looking down at me. "Do you honestly not think you did anything wrong?"

His twisted version of events made me laugh, a bitter, hollow sound.

I looked up, meeting his gaze. "Twenty years," I said, my voice sharp with anger. "You know me. Do you honestly believe I'd push a pregnant woman down a flight of stairs?"

"She wasn't pregnant," he said, his tone flat and final. "Just an upset stomach."

My heart plummeted.

He either didn't know he'd been fooled, or he simply didn't care.

Suddenly, everything felt utterly meaningless.

"You can go," I said, my voice devoid of emotion as I looked away. "I've resigned. I won't be coming back here, so your fiancée doesn't need to waste her energy on me either."

Just then, a few bolder colleagues couldn't resist. They came closer, smiling.

"Oh, Aria, you two aren't fighting, are you?"

"You have to appreciate a man like Liam! He picks you up every single day. Who does that anymore!"

"Come on, every couple has spats. Don't let a silly argument ruin a good thing. Just kiss and make up!"

I forced a smile, uglier than a grimace.

Liam offered no explanation. Instead, he reached out, straightening a strand of my wind-blown hair with an unnervingly natural gesture. To my colleagues, it was intimate; to me, a stark warning.

I abruptly stepped back, avoiding his hand.

I turned to my colleagues. "We're not like that. You've misunderstood."

My colleagues' smiles froze.

Clutching the box, I turned and walked away, not looking at Liam's expression.

I'd rented an apartment these past few days and hadn't returned to the Hayes estate.

Back at the apartment, I turned off my phone, trying to numb myself with work.

I only switched it back on late that night.

The screen lit up, and messages flooded in.

Not a single one from Liam.

It was a stark contrast to the Liam who would scour the city if he couldn't reach me for even an hour.

I idly opened my social media feed.

The first post was from Maeve, thirty minutes ago: a flawless selfie. Around her neck glittered the sapphire necklace, the same one she'd snapped me this very afternoon and retracted.

The caption read: "Love the birthday gift from my love! Obsessed! [heart emoji]"

The photo's background was a private room in an upscale restaurant, a birthday cake on the table.

My gaze fixed on the necklace.

It was Maeve's birthday today?

So, he'd only been at the magazine building to check up on me, and give me a lecture, just passing by. And here I'd thought he'd come specially for me.

My phone rang abruptly. It was Mrs. Hayes.

"Aria, sweetheart, why aren't you home yet? I told Liam to pick you up. Did he get you?" Mrs. Hayes's voice was as loving as ever.

"Mrs. Hayes, I've moved out. He doesn't need to pick me up."

"Moved out? What's going on? Did that rascal Liam upset you?"

"No," I cut her off, not wanting to hear another word about him. "Mrs. Hayes, I'm exhausted. I'm going to hang up now."

I hung up and collapsed onto my bed.

Tears silently streamed down, soaking my pillow.

I finally understood completely: neither his passenger seat, nor his gifts, nor his future belonged to me anymore.

Good.

This made leaving so much easier.

After a few days of tidying my apartment, I finally steeled myself to go back to the Hayes estate and retrieve my last few things.

I used my spare key to open the villa door.

The living room was empty.

I breathed a sigh of relief, about to go upstairs, but then I bumped into someone on the landing.

Maeve was coming out of my bedroom, carrying a suitcase.

Seeing me, Maeve showed no surprise, only a provocative smile.