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Sienna’s POV
Because if I were honest, I knew I could never truly shut Liam outpletely. He was the wound that had never quite healed. And part of me still clung to the memories of what we once had.
My gaze returned to the invitation lying on the table.
Next week. There was still time.
Maybe I would go. Maybe I wouldn’t.
But at least now I knew Noah wanted me there. And that was enough to make me wonder if I was ready to open the door I had kept
locked for so long.
I picked up the invitation again, tracing the stiff edge of the paper with my fingertips. The print was simple, no borate
flourishes-just the date, the ce, the names of two people about to bind their lives on an important day. But for me, this piece
of paper carried more weight than any ordinary invitation. It was a door. A door I could leave shut, or open just a crack, letting the
past seep back in.
Next week. It felt close, yet far enough to leave me restless each passing day until it arrived. I knew myself-I would obsess over it,
in between reading, working, even as I tried to sleep. My mind would spin endlessly, weighing what it would mean if I went and
what it would mean if I stayed.
I set the invitation back on the table, but my eyes wouldn’t leave it. As if that small object had its own gravity, pulling all of my
attention in. I hated how much power a simple piece of paper held over me.
My head filled with the image of Noah’s face-his quietugh, the way he had once looked at the world as if nothing was beyond
his reach, and the way he used to look at me, certain that I was part of his life. What would I see in his eyes now, if I went? Would
there still be warmth left? Or only the cold distance carved by time and wounds left unattended?
I gripped the edge of the table, pressing my palm into the wood. Solid. Unchanging. Unlike my heart, which wavered.
A part of me wanted to shut it all down, to simply avoid it. Not go, not reopen old wounds, not let anyone-especially Liam-see
how fragile I truly was. My life here was quiet, safe. Why risk shaking it apart?
But another part of me, the small restless part, whispered: You still care. You still want to see them. You still want to know that
even if everything changed, you haven’t disappearedpletely from their story.
I stood and walked to the bookshelf, trying to distract myself. My fingers brushed the spines of old books, some gathering dust. None of them called to me. Even the pages that once drowned me in other worlds now felt hollow. My thoughts kept drifting back
to the invitation.
I closed my eyes for a moment, searching myself to see if I was truly ready. The answer came in silence-sharp and heavy. I didn’t know. I really didn’t know.
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The only thing I did know was this: whatever choice I made, it would change something. Maybe small, maybe big. But it would
leave a mark.
I opened my eyes again, staring at the invitation once more. My breath felt heavy, but a sliver of courage flickered quietly in my chest. I didn’t have to decide today. Next week was still far enough.
**
The afternoon sun dipped slowly, light scattering across the sea in golden glimmers, almost magical. I stood on the balcony, letting the wind brush against my face. Maybe tonight I would write. Or maybe I would just sit there, watching the ocean, trying to piece my thoughts back together.
The shrill ring of my phone shattered the quiet in the living room. I turned from theptop screen, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. My draft still unfinished, my mind still tangled in the morning’s shadows.
Liliana’s name glowed on the screen. I inhaled deeply before answering.
“Hello?” I said softly.
“Sienna! What are you doing?” Liliana’s voice burst through, bright and cheerful as always-far too lively for this hour.
A small smile tugged at my lips. “Writing. And you? What’s up?”
“Nothing. I’m bored. You know me—if I go a week without ranting, I’ll explode,” she said dramatically. “Come on, entertain me.
Or give me some juicy gossip.”
I chuckled quietly, sinking into the sofa. “Unfortunately, I’m no gossip machine. My life’s far too boring for that.”
“Ah, really?” she teased. “Don’t tell me someone came over to your apartment and you secretly have a crush on him?”
I went quiet for a moment. Not because I didn’t know what to say, but because part of her words felt far too close to the truth.
Liliana immediately caught my silence.
“Wait seriously? Someone dide?” her voice shifted into something sharper, serious now.
I bit my lower lip, then let out a sigh. “Liam came this morning.”
A sharp intake of breath echoed on the other end. “Liam? As in, Liam-your ex-husband?”
“Hmm.”
“Oh my God, what was he doing there?”
I closed myptop, set it on the table, and walked toward the window. The faint sound of waves drifted in from outside. “He just showed up. Brought breakfast, sat casually in my kitchen, and started asking weird questions like whether the water runs fine, if the roof leaks, if the neighbors are noisy.”
Liliana let out a long breath. “Wow. So he’s pretending to be some kind of handyman now?”
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I chuckled. “Worse. He said if I wasn’tfortable here, he’d buy me a quieter house by the beach.”
“What?!” Liliana nearly shouted. “He was serious?”
“I think so,” I murmured, hugging myself. “Liam has changed. But his presence still shakes me.’
Liliana fell silent for a few beats before finally asking softly, “You still love him, don’t you?”
The question was like a small nail driven straight into the most fragile part of me. I didn’t answer right away. I just kept staring outside, at the wide stretch of sea that seemed to be questioning my heart along with her.
“I don’t know,” I whispered atst. “Maybe part of me still isn’t finished with him.”
Liliana didn’t judge. She didn’t interrupt. She just offered silence, the kind that felt like an embrace.
“I’m scared,” I admitted. “I’m scared that if I let him in again, I’ll break all over again. But I’m also scared of shutting him outpletely because maybe, some part of me is still hoping.”
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