My boyfriend, Liam, shaved my head for his childhood friend. Dolores was losing her hair to chemotherapy, so he demanded I give her mine. “Dolores’s allergic to the synthetic ones on the market,” he’d said, his voice flat. “You’ve been growing your hair for a decade. It’s perfect for a wig.” I refused. So his friends pinned me down, holding my arms and legs while he took an electric razor and scraped it against my scalp until my long, glossy black hair was nothing but a butchered mess. Dolores, sitting in her wheelchair, pointed at me and burst out laughing. “Liam, look at her! She looks so ridiculous, like a plucked frog.” A smile touched Liam’s lips as he nodded in agreement. “See? Was all this fuss really necessary?” But he knew. He knew that a choppy, uneven haircut had once been the reason I was bullied for six long years. Back then, he had been the one to stand in front of me, arms spread wide, my protector. Now, he was the one holding the blade. His friends chimed in, one after another. “Come on, don’t hold it against a sick person.” Liam turned, his voice sharp with impatience. “Don’t bother. Just let her go. She’s acting like it’s the end of the world over a few strands of hair. It’s not like it won’t grow back.” So I turned and walked away. And I never looked back. Later, I heard that to win me back, Liam Foster knelt his way up a nine-thousand-step cathedral staircase, ruining his knees in the process. 1 The pressure on my limbs vanished. I was free. “Liam, look at her! She’s hilarious, like a little toad,” Dolores shrieked from her wheelchair, pointing a slender finger at my now-bare head. His friends roared with laughter, slapping each other on the back. Liam glanced at me, his expression casual. “Dolores’s allergic to store-bought wigs. Your hair was long enough, so it was the perfect solution.” His words were a distant hum. I couldn’t hear them over the sound of my own heart shattering. I reached up, my fingers finding only a few stray wisps of hair, and a fresh wave of agony washed over me. Just two hours earlier, Liam had called to tell me I had to come to Dolores’s birthday party. I didn’t get along with Dolores, not really. But it was a request from Liam, and Dolores was, after all, a cancer patient. So I went, gift in hand. I never imagined the “party” was a trap. A setup for them to hold me down and forcibly shave my head. Looking at Liam’s cold, indifferent face, I remembered the rare moment of affection he’d shown me just a couple of days ago. He’d brought me a set of expensive, high-end hair care products. “The air’s been dry lately,” he’d said. “Make sure you take good care of your hair.” I was so surprised, so flattered by the gesture, that I’d used them that very night. Only now did the sickening truth dawn on me. He wasn’t asking me to care for my hair for my sake. He was preparing it so Dolores’s new wig would be as comfortable as possible. Suddenly, Liam started walking toward me. For a fleeting, foolish moment, I thought he felt a pang of guilt, that he was coming to apologize. Instead, he pinched the last remaining lock of hair from my shoulder with a look of distaste and snipped it off without a second thought. He turned to his friends. “Can’t you guys do a clean job? Why leave this bit behind? I treat you all to dinner, and you can’t even do one simple thing right.” The group erupted in jeers and laughter. “Our bad, our bad! Hey, look, you think Ava’s gonna cry?” “Dolores’s the one who’s sick, swallowing all that medicine every day, and you don’t see her whining.” The barbs flew, one after another, but Liam’s expression never changed. His friends had never liked me. I was an outsider, a charity case who didn't fit into their wealthy, pedigreed world. I was never invited to their gatherings, and when I once asked Liam if he could take me with him, he just brushed me off. “We run in different circles, Ava. Don’t try to force it.” Seeing my blank stare, Liam’s gaze finally settled on me. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Ava, you’re not actually mad, are you? Lighten up. Think of it as doing a good deed.” My eyes filled with a grief so profound it ached. “I just have one question. Was this your idea, or was it Dolores’s?” Dolores wheeled herself between us, two perfect tears tracing paths down her pale cheeks. “It was my idea. If you have a problem, take it up with me. Don’t make things difficult for Liam.” Instantly, Liam’s face hardened as he glared at me. “Dolores’s a patient. Can you stop upsetting her? She’s like a sister to me, we grew up together. What’s the big deal with you, her future sister-in-law, donating a wig?” His casual dismissal was a physical blow. My eyes stung. How could someone change so completely? Years ago, when my parents forced me to cut my hair short to sell it for my brother’s new toys, I was relentlessly bullied for my ragged appearance. It was Liam who had stood in front of me, grinning defiantly. “From now on,” he’d declared, “I’ve got your back. And your hair.” The memory drained the last of my strength. My voice was quiet, hollow. “Liam, as of today, we’re done.” I looked him in the eye. “You can wire me the money for the hair. I’m under no obligation to donate it to her.” 2 Liam froze, then reached out and pressed the back of his hand to my forehead, a scornful laugh escaping his lips. “Ava, are you trying to break up with me?” he scoffed. “You don’t have a fever. What’s with the crazy talk?” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, menacing whisper. “You’ve been with me for eight years. You really think you’ll find anyone else to marry you after this? Who would want you, Ava? Can you stop being so damn dramatic?” The tears I’d been holding back threatened to spill over. So he did remember. Eight years. Our friends used to say that after dating for so long, a lover becomes family. But Liam hadn't become my family. And lately, he felt less and less like my lover. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood and met his gaze head-on. “There are plenty of men in the world. It’s not like you’re my only option.” Liam’s face darkened. His friends, sensing the shift, started to speak up. “Alright, that’s enough. Liam’s already trying to be nice here, Ava. Don’t push it.” “It’s just a wig! Get Liam to buy you a new one. Hell, buy seven, one for every day of the week, haha!” After his friends had their fun, Dolores chimed in, her voice trembling with manufactured fragility. “This is all my fault. Ava, I’ll pay you for the wig, okay? Please, just don’t make things hard for Liam.” She blinked, her eyes welling up again, a picture of pathetic innocence that clearly tugged at Liam’s heartstrings. He shot me a venomous look, as if I were his mortal enemy. “Ava, if you have a problem, take it up with me!” he snarled. “Dolores is sick. She’s very, very sick. Why do you have to pick on a patient? You’ve changed. You were never like this before!” I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could, Dolores clutched her stomach and let out a pained cry. “Liam, it hurts… Help me…” In a flash, Liam shoved me aside. I stumbled backward, caught off guard, and my leg hit a chair, sending me crashing to the floor. “Hiss—” A sharp pain shot through me. Liam saw me fall, but there wasn't a flicker of concern in his eyes. Instead, he roared at me, his voice cracking with rage. “Get the hell out of the way! You whine and cry about a stupid haircut, but then you go and upset Dolores when you know how fragile she is! If anything happens to her, I swear to God, I will never forgive you!” With that, he scooped Dolores into his arms and stormed out, his pack of cronies trailing behind him. The last one to leave, the one holding my severed hair, casually tossed the long, dark bundle into a nearby trash can. I stared for a moment, stunned. Then I scrambled over, my hands shaking as I carefully gathered my hair from the garbage. The tears finally came, hot and unstoppable. In that moment, a decision crystallized in my heart. I was leaving Liam Foster. … I went to a barbershop and had them shave my head properly, evening it out. Then I booked a cheap room at a motel. When I returned to the apartment to pack my things, Liam was there, looking exhausted. His eyes landed on the suitcase in my hand, and his face instantly soured. He strode forward and kicked my suitcase, sending it skidding across the floor. “How long are you going to keep this act up?” he demanded. “The doctor said Dolores’s condition has worsened. It’s all your fault for agitating her! I haven’t even dealt with you yet, and you’re the one playing the victim?” I laughed, a bitter, humorless sound. “So Dolores’s cancer is my fault now? Liam, do you even hear the stupid things you’re saying?” He seemed taken aback, probably because he’d never heard me use that tone with him before. He just stood there, momentarily speechless. I ignored him, picked up my suitcase, and continued packing. I didn't have much. After living here for eight years, everything I owned barely filled two 26-inch suitcases. I glanced at Liam, who was watching me in silence. “Whenever you get around to sending the money for the hair,” I said casually, “I’ll pay my share of the rent.” 3 “You think I need your pathetic rent money?” Liam grabbed my arm, his grip like iron, his face a thundercloud. “Ava, have you had enough of this drama? Do you seriously think you can support yourself alone?” He shook his head in disgust. “I swear, I don’t know what goes on in that head of yours! I buy you skincare, you don’t use it. I buy you jewelry, you don’t wear it. I ask you to dress better, and you come up with a million excuses!” Every time we fought, it was the same old story. He’d bring up the skincare, forgetting it made my skin break out in hives. He’d complain about the jewelry, ignoring the time his friends mocked me, claiming it was a cheap knockoff. He’d criticize my ‘drab’ clothes, completely disregarding that my government job had a conservative dress code. When I didn’t respond, his words grew even more reckless. “What, nothing to say? Or are you planning to run back to your dead-end hometown and get married off?!” That last sentence struck me like a physical blow. I stared at him, my eyes wide with disbelief. After my high school graduation, my family had tried to lock me up and marry me off for cash. It was Liam who had saved me, who had pulled me from that hell. He had promised that as long as he was around, no one would ever hurt me again. He seemed to have forgotten that promise. He had become just as cruel and ugly as the people he’d once saved me from. My family background was a mess. I was frugal by nature. But what was so wrong with that? Tears welled in my eyes, and my heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. I didn’t say a word. I finally, completely understood. Liam Foster was a lost cause. He would die before ever admitting he was wrong. I grabbed my suitcase, determined to leave. Liam exploded. He seized the suitcase and hurled it to the ground with all his might. The latches burst, and the case split open, spilling my neatly folded clothes onto the floor. “Liam, we’re broken up! Who gave you the right to touch my things?” He yanked me back by the arm. His strength was immense, and my head slammed into the sharp corner of a table. A sudden, hot stream of liquid flooded my vision. I blinked frantically, but all I could see was a blur. Liam panicked, rushing towards me. “Ava, don’t be scared, I’m taking you to the hospital right now.” Just then, his phone rang. Dolores’s weak, faint voice crackled through the speaker. “Liam… I’m outside your building… I’m coughing up blood. What do I do? It hurts so much.” The color drained from Liam’s face. He let go of my arm. “Ava, just wait for me. Dolores’s having an attack. I have to get her to the hospital first!” Blood was pouring into my eyes. All I could see was a hazy silhouette in front of me. I grabbed onto his leg, trying to stop him. “Liam, I can’t see. Please, just call an ambulance for me…” Without a second thought, he kicked me away. “I told you to fucking wait! Are you deaf?!” he screamed. “Can’t you wait for one damn minute? Are you in such a hurry to die?!” The force of the kick knocked the wind out of me, and I couldn’t get up. Liam was already gone. The front door slammed shut with a final, resounding bang.
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