CHAPTER SIXTEEN: LIAM'S POV
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: LIAM'S POV
I shoved the last of my clothes into the suitcase, barely bothering to fold them. My hands were shaking, not from exhaustion but from rage.
Not just at him, but at me too. I knew better than to believe, for an instant, that Ethan would choose me.
The zipper fought me, but I forced it shut, ignoring the pain in my knuckles. I looked around the resort suite for the final time. It was now tainted, as if everything we'd created there had gone bad. I couldn't stand to breathe the same air as him, not anymore.
I didn’t leave a note. He’d know. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d be too wrapped up in guilt and shame to even notice I’d gone.
As I exited the suite, the corridor felt too quiet, as though even the walls were in on what had occurred. I made my way to the reception area and spotted the manager straight away. Mr. Lewis, with the warm eyes, who had greeted me a couple of days earlier.
"Mr. Liam," he exclaimed in surprise. "Checking out already? I had assumed your stay was until the week."
I gave him a brief smile. "Change of plans. Something arose."
He furrowed his eyebrows. "I trust all was satisfactory? No issue with the suite or service? If there was something amiss on staff…"
"No, no… Nothing of that sort," I broke in hastily. "You have all been great. It's just… A work emergency."
He slowly nodded, but I knew he caught something beyond that. Hell, it wasn't difficult. I had to have looked like a mess. Puffy eyes, lips pinched in a grim line, suitcase wheels squeaking behind me as if they were aware that I was fleeing.
I did not look over my shoulder as I handed in the keycard and signed the check-out sheet. I did not yield to uncertainty. Because if I did, I knew I would falter.
I'd recall the way his eyes softened as he gazed at me, the warmth of his hand curled around mine… and I couldn't pay for that. Not now.
Back at the apartment, I imagined Ethan sitting silently, probably in the same position where I'd left him, still dazed. Maybe he'd try to persuade himself that he hadn't really hurt me, that he'd done it out of respect for his family. But did it matter? He'd still have hurt me.
And not because he pushed me aside. Not because of what Dinah saw. But because when it mattered, when it actually really mattered, he didn't choose me.
He chose the safer path. The one he was familiar with. The one that wouldn't jeopardize his entire world. Did he remember that I would have to contend with my side of the family too? Dinah was my family and I fucked her boyfriend.
But I was still angry with Ethan anyway. If he'd loved me, he'd have fought for me. But he didn't. He let me go.
……….
ETHAN'S POV
The apartment was a tomb.
I was sitting on the edge of the bed, the dim light in the hallway spilling in casting a yellow glow over the carpet. My phone was clutched in my hand, buzzing every couple of minutes but none of the notifications were from Liam.
I just kept reading Dinah's last message. Her words stung me like knives:
"I hope you've already told your family, because if not. I will."
My thumbs perched above the keys. I'd already tried to call her five times. She outright rejected each one of them.
I couldn't breathe. My chest was closing in, the walls were collapsing on me, my world was blowing up around me in slow motion and I was too numb to even move a muscle.
How did it all come to this?
One mistake. One moment of excitement that spilled over into a full-blown romance scandal. One thread of truth that found its way into the cracks and blew all that I had so painstakingly protected.
The sound of shattering glass startled me out of it. I looked down at the broken wine glass in my hand. Blood pooled around my fingers, tiny cuts from the pieces embedded in my palm. I hadn't even realized I was holding it.
I dropped what was left of it to the floor, letting the pieces scatter. My body trembled and I walked to the sink, rinsing the blood off under cold water.
There was no washing that would remove the pain. It clung to my skin. Established itself in my chest. Would not let go.
I turned the water off and picked up my phone.
I do not know what I expected, maybe a voice, an opportunity, a chance. I called Liam.
No response. I tried once more.
Nothing still.
My hands clasped the phone. I wavered, then called the reception. Maybe he had it on silent. Maybe he was just in the room and…
"Good evening, sir. How can I help you?"
"Hello, this is Ethan…" My throat tightened. "Could you connect me to Liam Thomsons villa, please?"
There was a pause. The kind that made your stomach curl up before the words arrived.
"I'm afraid not, sir. Mr. Thompson checked out earlier this evening."
I blinked. "What?"
"Yes, sir. He said he was wrapping up his business here and handed back his key card. He left shortly after."
My mind went blank. "He's… gone?"
"Yes, sir. He said to give you thanks. Said he wouldn't be returning."
I hung up before I could shame myself with more questions.
Gone?
I stood there, phone still grasped in my hand, the silence in the room suddenly oppressive as ever. A cold, yawning hollowness opened inside me, wide and empty.
Liam was gone. I didn't say he should leave the resort I only suggested he left my room.
He hadn't even said goodbye.
And I didn't blame him.
Maybe I let him off. And the worst thing? I wasn't even certain I wanted him back.
………
Hours passed.
I didn't eat, Didn't move, Simply sat there with the apartment lights off and my mind in a loop.
When my phone buzzed again, I didn't care to look at it until I heard the notice beeping from Instagram.
Inquisitive. I opened it.
My heart skipped a beat.
It was Dinah's story.
A photograph. A very old one. I was probably eight or nine, smiling with my little brother at a family picnic. She'd gone deep to reach this one. But not the photo that disturbed me, the caption:
"The truth always finds the light."
This sounded like a threat. Dinah had gone too low.
My fingers trembled, not from fear but because I knew. I knew it was all going to collapse. That the mask I had worn for years was slipping, and soon there'd be nothing between me and everybody else to conceal behind.
I scowled at the screen until it was blurry, the weight of everything crushing on myCHAPTER SIXTEEN
LIAM'S POV
I shoved the last of my clothes into the suitcase, barely bothering to fold them. My hands were shaking, not from exhaustion but from rage.
Not just at him, but at me too. I knew better than to believe, for an instant, that Ethan would choose me.
The zipper fought me, but I forced it shut, ignoring the pain in my knuckles. I looked around the resort suite for the final time. It was now tainted, as if everything we'd created there had gone bad. I couldn't stand to breathe the same air as him, not anymore.
I didn’t leave a note. He’d know. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d be too wrapped up in guilt and shame to even notice I’d gone.
As I exited the suite, the corridor felt too quiet, as though even the walls were in on what had occurred. I made my way to the reception area and spotted the manager straight away. Mr. Lewis, with the warm eyes, who had greeted me a couple of days earlier.
"Mr. Liam," he exclaimed in surprise. "Checking out already? I had assumed your stay was until the week."
I gave him a brief smile. "Change of plans. Something arose."
He furrowed his eyebrows. "I trust all was satisfactory? No issue with the suite or service? If there was something amiss on staff…"
"No, no… Nothing of that sort," I broke in hastily. "You have all been great. It's just… A work emergency."
He slowly nodded, but I knew he caught something beyond that. Hell, it wasn't difficult. I had to have looked like a mess. Puffy eyes, lips pinched in a grim line, suitcase wheels squeaking behind me as if they were aware that I was fleeing.
I did not look over my shoulder as I handed in the keycard and signed the check-out sheet. I did not yield to uncertainty. Because if I did, I knew I would falter.
I'd recall the way his eyes softened as he gazed at me, the warmth of his hand curled around mine… and I couldn't pay for that. Not now.
Back at the apartment, I imagined Ethan sitting silently, probably in the same position where I'd left him, still dazed. Maybe he'd try to persuade himself that he hadn't really hurt me, that he'd done it out of respect for his family. But did it matter? He'd still have hurt me.
And not because he pushed me aside. Not because of what Dinah saw. But because when it mattered, when it actually really mattered, he didn't choose me.
He chose the safer path. The one he was familiar with. The one that wouldn't jeopardize his entire world. Did he remember that I would have to contend with my side of the family too? Dinah was my family and I fucked her boyfriend.
But I was still angry with Ethan anyway. If he'd loved me, he'd have fought for me. But he didn't. He let me go.
……….
ETHAN'S POV
The apartment was a tomb.
I was sitting on the edge of the bed, the dim light in the hallway spilling in casting a yellow glow over the carpet. My phone was clutched in my hand, buzzing every couple of minutes but none of the notifications were from Liam.
I just kept reading Dinah's last message. Her words stung me like knives:
"I hope you've already told your family, because if not. I will."
My thumbs perched above the keys. I'd already tried to call her five times. She outright rejected each one of them.
I couldn't breathe. My chest was closing in, the walls were collapsing on me, my world was blowing up around me in slow motion and I was too numb to even move a muscle.
How did it all come to this?
One mistake. One moment of excitement that spilled over into a full-blown romance scandal. One thread of truth that found its way into the cracks and blew all that I had so painstakingly protected.
The sound of shattering glass startled me out of it. I looked down at the broken wine glass in my hand. Blood pooled around my fingers, tiny cuts from the pieces embedded in my palm. I hadn't even realized I was holding it.
I dropped what was left of it to the floor, letting the pieces scatter. My body trembled and I walked to the sink, rinsing the blood off under cold water.
There was no washing that would remove the pain. It clung to my skin. Established itself in my chest. Would not let go.
I turned the water off and picked up my phone.
I do not know what I expected, maybe a voice, an opportunity, a chance. I called Liam.
No response. I tried once more.
Nothing still.
My hands clasped the phone. I wavered, then called the reception. Maybe he had it on silent. Maybe he was just in the room and…
"Good evening, sir. How can I help you?"
"Hello, this is Ethan…" My throat tightened. "Could you connect me to Liam Thomsons villa, please?"
There was a pause. The kind that made your stomach curl up before the words arrived.
"I'm afraid not, sir. Mr. Thompson checked out earlier this evening."
I blinked. "What?"
"Yes, sir. He said he was wrapping up his business here and handed back his key card. He left shortly after."
My mind went blank. "He's… gone?"
"Yes, sir. He said to give you thanks. Said he wouldn't be returning."
I hung up before I could shame myself with more questions.
Gone?
I stood there, phone still grasped in my hand, the silence in the room suddenly oppressive as ever. A cold, yawning hollowness opened inside me, wide and empty.
Liam was gone. I didn't say he should leave the resort I only suggested he left my room.
He hadn't even said goodbye.
And I didn't blame him.
Maybe I let him off. And the worst thing? I wasn't even certain I wanted him back.
………
Hours passed.
I didn't eat, Didn't move, Simply sat there with the apartment lights off and my mind in a loop.
When my phone buzzed again, I didn't care to look at it until I heard the notice beeping from Instagram.
Inquisitive. I opened it.
My heart skipped a beat.
It was Dinah's story.
A photograph. A very old one. I was probably eight or nine, smiling with my little brother at a family picnic. She'd gone deep to reach this one. But not the photo that disturbed me, the caption:
"The truth always finds the light."
This sounded like a threat. Dinah had gone too low.
My fingers trembled, not from fear but because I knew. I knew it was all going to collapse. That the mask I had worn for years was slipping, and soon there'd be nothing between me and everybody else to conceal behind.
I scowled at the screen until it was blurry, the weight of everything crushing on my chest.
Liam had been right to leave.
But God have mercy on me, I didn't want him to go. But again, do I want him to stay? chest.
Liam had been right to leave.
But God have mercy on me, I didn't want him to go. But again, do I want him to stay?