82
49%
82
Sienna’s POV
I was still silent after sharing my worries with Liliana.
“You’re human, Sienna. You’re allowed to hope. You’re allowed to be afraid. But you also have the right to be happy. If Liam truly has changed, and you feel there’s a small space to trust again then you’re allowed to try,” Liliana said, her voice tinged with
concern.
A small smile touched my lips, though tears threatened to fall. “Thank you.”
“Always,” she replied softly. “But if he hurts you again, I’ll find him, drag him to the sea, and drown him against the reef.”
Iughed, genuinely this time. “You’re so dramatic.”
“But you still love him, don’t you?” she teased with augh.
I rubbed my face. “I’m still learning to make peace.”
That felt enough for the day.
After ending the call with Liliana, I stared at the dimming screen of my phone. The call had been brief, yet it felt like opening a valve I had kept tightly shut. The feelings I had kept buried finally spilled out, and somehow I felt a little lighter.
I walked to the kitchen, opened the cupboard, and pulled out a cup. I made myself coffee-not because I needed the caffeine, but because my hands needed something to do. The day moved slowly, while my mind was still stuck in the morning.
Her words lingered, making me sigh in frustration. Not because she had said anything unreasonable. But because it was Liam. He had always been like that. Always believing every problem could be solved with something practical, with money, or simply with
his presence.
I stood in the kitchen, staring at the thin steam rising from my cup of coffee. Its aroma filled my senses, though it couldn’t quite erase the heaviness in my head. I stirred it absentmindedly, as if the tiny circle of a spoon could somehow untangle the knots
inside me. But instead, everything only grew sharper.
Liam. His name kept echoing in my mind like a sound bouncing inside an empty room. How could I spend years learning to stand on my own, closing every wound he had left open, only to feel fragile again in mere minutes after his return? It was as if some part of me could still copse with a single knock at the door, a single nce, a single act of care he carried.
I moved back to the dining table and looked at the remnants of breakfast, now cold. The sandwich I had touched earlier no longer held any appeal. I tossed it in the trash, as if discarding it could erase his presence from my home. But I knew-it wasn’t that simple. Liam’s trace clung to me, embedded in corners of memories I hadn’t realized still existed.
As I sat down, my eyes fell on the invitation still lying there. That in sheet of paper seemed to count down the days toward something inevitable. Noah. Our son. He was getting married, beginning his new life, and of course, he wanted both his parents
1:24 AM Tue 2 Sep
82
49%
present, standing by his side, even if no longer together. Such a simple request, yet it felt like a heavy test. Because my presence also meant epting that Liam would always be near him.
I raised the cup to my lips, sipping carefully. The taste was bitter-sharper than usual. Maybe because my tongue was already coated with bitterness of a different kind. Bitter because I was caught between wanting distance and wanting to reach again for
something long lost.
Outside the window, the sea shimmered under the midday sun. The wind carried its familiar salty scent, slipping in along with the light filtering through the thin curtains. I had always loved that view. The sea gave me the illusion of freedom, as though I could run toward it whenever I wanted, as though its vastness could contain all of my unrest. But this time, the sea only reminded me of
what was out of reach. Of unfinished feelings. Of wounds that hadn’t healed.
I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes for a moment. Memories resurfaced, like an old film being yed again. Our
I knew I was stronger now. I had learned to live alone, to build my rhythm, to create a space entirely my own. But Liam’s presence this morning felt like tearing down the walls I had built so carefully. And what angered me-at him, but even more at myself-was
the realization that I didn’t truly want him gone.
I set the cup down, staring nkly at the invitation once more. Maybe Liliana was right, I deserved to be happy. But happiness was never simple when it involved Liam. There was always a price, always a risk I had to bear. And I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough
to carry it again.
I didn’t need a new house. I didn’t need a prettier view than the one I already had. What I needed was space. Distance. Time to breathe, to understand myself without his shadow drifting like a fog.
I carried the cup out to the balcony. The sea breeze greeted me, tousling my loose hair. I curled up in the wicker chair, hugging my knees, letting my gaze wander to the horizon. In a ce like this, I should have felt at peace. Yet instead, it was here that my
wounds began to speak again.
Liam had never truly left my mind. Even after the painful separation, even after every effort to erase him from my life, the bitter
truth was he was still there.
This morning, when he sat in my kitchen, bringing sandwiches, it felt as though we had never parted. As though all those wounds
were nothing more than a bad dream.
I can’t let myself be fooled again. Yet some part of me wants to believe. I want to give him a chance. I want to know if maybe the universe is offering me a second path I never imagined before.
I take a sip of the coffee. Bitter. No sugar, like my heart-still far from healed.
Closing my eyes, I try to recall all the bad things that happened between us. The fights, his absence when I needed him, the despair, the fear that haunted the final days of our marriage. But the memory that surfaces instead is his gaze this morning. Warm, hopeful, tinged with uncertainty.
11:24 AM Tue 2 Sep
82
Liam’s gaze. The one that once made me fall in love.