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Sienna’s POV
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I moved to the tiny kitchen, pulled out a clean ss, and filled it with water. My motions were stiff, mechanical, like a machine. I drank half of it down, hoping the cold liquid would extinguish the fire raging in me, but it only left a bitter taste on my tongue.
The waves of memory crashed again. I remembered how that sofa once held ourughter, where we shared trivial stories untilte
at night. And now, he sat there again, not withughter, but with silence heavy with scars. How ironic, that a piece of furniture
could hold so much history I wished I could erase.
I set the ss back on the counter, staring nkly at the floor. Each breath weighed me down, each heartbeat reminded me of how
fragile I still was in his presence. I wanted to scream, to demand he leave, but the words were stones lodged in my throat.
I walked back to the living room, stopping a few paces away. He was still there, like a shadow refusing to fade. I wrapped my arms
around myself, trying to fight the sudden chill that nketed me. This ce was no longer my safe haven; it had be a stage
where old wounds and forbidden desires collided.
My eyes darted to the door, aching to escape into the night air. But I knew running wouldn’t solve anything. His shadow would
follow, clinging to my steps, seeping into my thoughts.
Finally, I lowered myself onto a chair across from him, keeping as much distance as possible, though it was never wide enough to
block the surge of emotions threatening to drown me. My knees pressed tightly together, fingers twisting the hem of my skirt,
channeling the chaos I couldn’t speak aloud.
Outside, cars asionally passed, proof that the world still moved normally. But inside this room, time seemed to halt, trapping
me in a whirlpool I couldn’t resist. I lowered my head, shutting my eyes briefly, trying to calm the old pain that had split open
again from one single presence.
“You’re right-you’re not a criminal, Liam,” I said atst, my voice soft but cold. “But you’re thest person I want to see in my
private space.”
He didn’t answer. Only silence, his eyes fixed on me. In that silence, I saw the same gaze that used to make me weak. But this time,
my heart was lined with caution, a shield that would not be easily broken.
I looked away, took a deep breath, then moved toward the box of oranges. I began transferring them one by one onto the kitchen
shelf. My hands kept busy, but my mind spun restlessly. I should’ve been firmer. I should’ve never let him in. So why was I too
slow?
“Sorry,” Liam’s voice broke softly from the sofa. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I just…”
I snapped my head toward him. “Just what?”
He lifted one shoulder in a small shrug, eyes lowering “Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
A bitterugh slipped from me, humorless and sharp. “You came all this way, walked into someone’s home without permission,
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just to make sure I’m okay?”
He nodded, and for the first time I caught the weariness etched clearly across his face.
“Yes. Because I haven’t felt at ease since you left. Now I realize, I don’t know anything about you anymore. Not even where you
live… until today.”
His words pierced me. But I showed nothing. I simply turned my back and continued moving the oranges, letting him sit there in silence, surrounded by the fragments of wounds I still hadn’t put back in ce.
Because even though I knew I should be angry… my heart still beat faster every time he said my name. And that was what hurt the
most.
I was still transferring a few oranges into the fruit bowl on the dining table when Liam’s footsteps drew closer. Clearly, he had no
intention of leaving yet. His steps were soft, careful, but his presence still felt like a thorn in my throat.
Then he stopped behind me, and I could feel his gaze sweeping over my small kitchen. I didn’t turn. I just kept arranging the
oranges with hands that trembled slightly from the awkwardness.
“Do you live alone here?” he asked suddenly.
I didn’t answer. Questions like that would only drag me into a territory I didn’t want to open to him.
A few seconds of silence passed before he spoke again, his voice lower, as if he was holding something back. “Do you have enough
food supplies? If not, I can go buy some now.”
1 froze.
My body stiffened for a moment before I turned around and looked straight at him. He was really staring at my tiny fridge and
pantry shelves, as if assessing whether I had enough rice, eggs, or instant noodles.
I let out a short sigh and replied, firm but controlled. “My savings are still plenty, Liam. And besides, I have a job now. So don’t
think of me as someone you need to provide for.”
His eyes flickered. A little surprised, maybe even ashamed. He held my gaze briefly before lowering his eyes.
I didn’t regret saying that. I knew my words were sharp, but I had to protect my own dignity. Back then, he had been too quick to pity. Too often showing up with help as if I couldn’t survive without him.
“I was just worried,” he muttered.
“Your worryes toote,” I shot back quickly, then turned my face away.
A long pause followed. The room felt silent except for the ticking of the wall clock. Then I heard him inhale deeply and say tly, “In that case, I’ll go.”
I didn’t answer. I only stood still, staring at the oranges in the bowl.
Liam walked to the door without a sound. I only heard the faint creak as it opened, and just before it closed again, he spoke softly,
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“Take care of yourself, Sienna.”
The door shut with a muted click, but my chest felt as though it had been struck by the truth-that even though I wanted him
gone, my heart was still not used to him truly walking away.
I stood frozen for a while. Then slowly drew in a deep breath, swallowing the surge that nearly rose to my throat. I couldn’t waver.
I had walked too far to turn back.
With slow steps, I sat down on the sofa where he had been sitting, and stared at the half-open box of oranges. I didn’t know how any of this would end, but one thing I was certain of: I did not want to be pitied again.
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