Liam Archer lost a bet with his newly adopted “little sister.” The punishment: be single for a month. So he handed me the divorce papers. “Just sign them. It’s only for a month. You’ve got to have a sense of sportsmanship.” I didn’t say anything. I just obediently wrote my name. Not long after, Liam lost another bet. “This time, I have to spend the night with her. We’re just talking, nothing else. Don’t get any ideas.” As he spoke, a small, square foil packet fell out of his pocket. He cleared his throat, made an excuse about a work emergency, and headed for a hotel. Once he was gone, I replied to a message that had just come in. [I’m leaving the country in a week. Want to come?] [Yes.] 1 The next day, I started packing. Halfway through, Liam, who hadn’t been home all night, walked in. There were fresh, angry red marks on his neck, and he yawned from lack of sleep. “Going on a trip?” I nodded, a knot of guilt in my stomach. Liam didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong. “It’s about time you got out. You’re always cooped up in this house, you have no idea what’s going on in the world. Not like Zoey. We can talk about anything.” Zoey. The “little sister” he’d met at a bar six months ago. They were inseparable, constantly making bets. The stakes started small—a coffee, a meal—but had escalated to hugs and kisses. I had cried. I had thrown fits. All it earned me was Liam’s disgust. “It’s just a game. Why do you have to be so serious?” Gradually, I stopped speaking up. So now, hearing him praise her at my expense, I just stayed silent and continued packing. After a moment, Liam asked, “When do you leave?” “Six days.” The next thing I knew, I was airborne. He lifted me, tossed me onto the bed, and pulled me into his warm embrace. “Don’t move. Just sleep with me for a bit.” I couldn’t break free. I was forced to breathe in the scent of another woman on his skin, my mind conjuring a chaotic slideshow of images. Tangled limbs, frantic passion, filth. Tears started to fall, hot and silent. Liam frowned, annoyed. He gave my back a few perfunctory pats. “You know, I’m the only one who could ever put up with you being so dramatic, Kiara.” “Without me, you’d be worse off than a stray dog on the street.” He repeated the same lines he’d said a thousand times before and slowly drifted off to sleep. I wiped my tears and carefully slipped out of his arms. Staring at the face I had loved for ten years, a cold resolve settled in my heart. Even if I had to live like a dog, I wouldn’t stay by his side any longer. 2 As the day of my departure grew closer, I started having vivid dreams of the past. The first time eight-year-old Liam saw me, he stared so intently that he tripped and fell flat on his face. It left a small, permanent scar on his forehead. He wore it like a badge of honor, announcing to everyone that he would be my one and only knight, protecting me for the rest of our lives. He was a boy of his word. When the chubby kid next door stole my candy, Liam cornered him in an alley after school and knocked out two of his teeth. When a girl in my class, Chloe, deliberately spilled ink on my dress, he drew ninety-nine hideous caricatures of her and plastered them all over the school, scaring her into staying home. Back then, wherever Kiara Reed was, Liam Archer was never more than a few feet away. We were inseparable. We were in love. Until eighth grade. On a perfectly ordinary day, my parents died in a plane crash. I was an orphan. My uncle took me in. I changed schools, moved my legal records, and traveled thousands of miles to a new city down south. In that strange new world, I learned to go to school alone, to eat alone, to be alone. My days were full, but my heart was always empty. The day I was diagnosed with depression, the confused, accusatory look in my uncle’s eyes was a weight I couldn’t bear. I found myself standing at the foot of a thirty-story building, gazing up at the roof with a strange sense of longing. When I looked away, I saw him. Liam. I thought I was hallucinating, but he walked right up to me, his eyes shining like stars. “Kiara, I’ve been going crazy thinking about you.” I broke down, sobbing. “Take me with you. Please.” “I can’t stand it here anymore! The clothes get mildewed if you leave them out, and the roaches are indestructible!” Liam held me for a long time. Then he went to my uncle and got down on his knees. He swore an oath: “I will take care of Kiara. I’ll help her finish school, we’ll get into our dream college together. If I fail, may I die a horrible death.” And just like that, he took me home. After college, he married me. At our wedding, as he slipped the ring on my finger, he cried like a child and swore on his life, again, that he would make me happy forever. But now, I opened my eyes. The other side of our king-sized bed was empty and cold. Liam hadn’t been home in five days. The only way I knew what he was up to was through his social media. In his latest post, there was a sterile white gauze patch on his forehead, like he’d just had surgery. A comment below asked what happened. He replied: “Zoey said the old scar was ugly and ruined my good looks, so I had it removed.” I froze. The mark of my knight was gone. He wasn’t going to protect me anymore. It’s okay, I told myself. I was leaving tomorrow. There was no point in dwelling on it. But the sharp, needle-like pain in my heart was impossible to ignore. 3 A long time later, my phone buzzed with a new message. [Get to Midnight Sun now.] Midnight Sun was the city’s biggest and most exclusive nightclub, a chaotic, anything-goes place. It was also where Liam and Zoey had met. I hated it there. I put my phone down, pretending I hadn’t seen the message. Another one came through immediately. [If you’re not here in an hour, you’re not going anywhere, ever.] He knew I was leaving tomorrow. It was a threat. I gritted my teeth and went. As I pushed open the door to the designated VIP room, a roar of cheers erupted. “Forty-two minutes! Liam bet she’d be here in thirty! Liam loses! Zoey wins!” “That’s eighteen losses for Liam tonight! Is he throwing the game on purpose?” “He’s so whipped!” Liam glanced toward the door, a flicker of excitement in his eyes, but he didn’t acknowledge me. He turned, grabbed Zoey from across the table, and pulled her into a brutal, passionate kiss. A bottle of expensive liquor was knocked over, crashing to the floor, but neither of them noticed. When they finally broke apart, a thin, silvery thread of saliva connected them, disgustingly intimate. The catcalls and whistles from the crowd were deafening. A wave of nausea washed over me. I had to get out of there. I took one step back, but a voice stopped me. “Kiara. Over here.” Fighting back the sickness, I walked toward him. Liam pulled me onto his lap. He pinched my cheek, his voice scolding. “That was just a game. Don’t you dare get jealous. It’s your fault for being so slow. You made me lose.” “I’m sorry,” I said automatically. Someone at the table clicked their tongue. “Damn, Mrs. Archer is so obedient. Liam can do whatever he wants, and she doesn’t say a word. I need to find a girl like that.” Liam waved his hand dismissively. “Nah, don’t. Too obedient is boring.” “Then I’ll find one like Zoey. Fun, exciting.” “Go for it,” Liam said, “if you’re not afraid of a little pain.” He tilted his head, revealing a fresh bite mark on his neck. Zoey, who was taking a drink, laughed and shot back, “Like you weren’t the one begging me to bite harder last night. Said it didn’t feel good unless it hurt.” Liam threw a banana at her playfully. “You need to work on your technique.” They bickered as if I wasn’t there, as if no one else was in the room. The curious, judgmental stares of everyone else were like knives, pressing in on me, making it hard to breathe. I clutched the fabric of my dress. “Can I go home?” I whispered. “I’m getting tired.” Liam seemed to notice me for the first time. He rubbed his nose and called for a server to see me out. But Zoey objected. “She just got here. Let’s make one more bet, for fun.” 4 My first instinct was to refuse. But Liam answered for me. “Sure. You’re on.” Zoey immediately produced a set of dice, blocking my exit. “Simple game. High or low.” “The winner gets to ask for one thing from the loser.” Her eyes glinted with a sly, unsettling light. Liam squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t be nervous. Zoey just likes purses and jewelry. If you lose, just let her pick something from your closet.” I never cared about those things anyway. So I agreed. The dice rattled in the cup. Ten seconds later, she slammed it down on the table. “I call high!” Zoey declared. That left me with low. I lost. She immediately held out her hand. “I like your necklace. I’ll take that.” I froze, my hand flying to the pendant at my chest. I took a step back. “Not this one.” Zoey’s face darkened. “What’s your problem? Can’t afford to lose? Where’s your sportsmanship?” A dozen pairs of disdainful eyes turned on me. “This was my mother’s,” I explained frantically. “It’s the only thing I have left of her. I can’t give it away. Pick something else. You can have anything from my jewelry collection, even the pieces worth millions.” My parents didn’t leave me much, and over the years, I’d lost some of it during moves. This necklace was all that was left. I couldn't lose it. Zoey scoffed. “You should have said that before the bet. It’s too late now. A deal’s a deal. If we start changing the rules, no one will ever want to play again.” She was relentless, refusing to back down. I looked to Liam for help. He knew how much this necklace meant to me. He would help me. But he just said, “Kiara. Take it off.” I stood there, stunned, all the strength draining out of me. Zoey, impatient, stepped forward to claim her prize. She yanked at the chain, her nails scratching my neck, drawing blood. I didn’t even feel the pain. I just stared at Liam. His expression was cold, indifferent. “You can always win it back later. You…” He was cut off by a sharp crack from the floor. “Oops,” Zoey said, feigning surprise. “My hand slipped. This thing is so fragile. It shattered into a million pieces. How ugly.” She stepped on the shards as she walked away, even giving one a kick. The room was dead silent. My hands were numb as I knelt to pick up the pieces. The last one was near Liam’s foot. He moved to help, but I snapped at him. “Get away from me!” Liam was used to being the center of attention. Being challenged like this, in front of everyone, extinguished any flicker of guilt he might have felt. His voice was glacial. “Kiara, there’s a limit to your tantrums.” I ignored him. I carefully wrapped the fragments in my handkerchief and turned to leave. Behind me, there was a loud crash as he kicked something over. Someone tried to play peacemaker. “Liam, maybe you should go after her. She looks really hurt.” Liam snorted. “Let her go. We’re already divorced. If she drops dead in a ditch, it’s got nothing to do with me.” “I’ve been too good to her over the years. I’ve spoiled her rotten. She thinks the whole world revolves around her. Now she’s throwing a fit and ruining everyone’s fun over some stupid dead person’s necklace. Is it really that serious? She’s insane.” “Let her go. Mark my words, she’s got no parents, no friends. I’m the only savior she’s got. In three days, she’ll come crawling back, begging for my forgiveness.” He kept talking, his words a venomous torrent. I didn’t look back once. I didn’t shed a single tear. This time, we were really, truly over. 5 Back home, I put the pieces of the necklace into a small silk pouch and hung it back around my neck. I stared at the empty room, feeling a profound sense of nothingness. It was like I had nothing left. After all these years, I hadn't managed to hold on to anything. Useless. I found myself thinking again, why wasn’t I on that plane with them? Then I would be with my parents forever. I wouldn’t have been taken in by an uncle who only wanted my inheritance, and I wouldn’t have been rescued by a boy whose heart would eventually change. I wouldn't be like a piece of driftwood, tossed about, unwanted. I sent a message to the person I was supposed to meet. “I’m not going to make it tomorrow. Have a safe trip.” Then, I went into the bathroom. Just as the water in the tub was about to close over my head, my phone started ringing, loud and insistent. By some strange impulse, I struggled to the surface and answered it. My throat was raw and swollen from the water. It took all my strength to force out his name. “Ethan?” Ethan Vance was a student I had sponsored. After Liam and I got married, he had turned down every job offer I received. He said the world was a dangerous place, and he was afraid that if I was exposed to too much, my depression would return. He said he would take care of me, that I should just stay home and be happy. For the first two years, it was bliss. I was completely cared for. I watched movies, surfed the web. One day, I came across a website for underprivileged students, kids who were struggling but full of dreams. My heart ached for them. I had the money, so I sponsored a dozen of them. Later, I found out most of them were scams. Only Ethan was different. He had the saddest story—no parents, working since he was in elementary school. He was also the most honest. He never asked for an extra penny. As long as he had enough for food each month, he would return the rest. He gave me all his personal information, sent me regular updates, shared his awards and certificates with me. I watched as Ethan got into a top university and started his own company with a friend. The day he graduated, he was not only the valedictorian but also a successful young entrepreneur. I was so proud of him, but I declined his invitation to the ceremony and cut off all contact. My father always used to say, “Lend a hand when they’re down, but disappear when they’re on top.” Until six months ago, when we met again at the headquarters of Liam’s company. He was there for a business meeting; I was there to bring Liam lunch. The negotiation had just ended. Liam, furious that he hadn't gotten the terms he wanted, took his anger out on me, knocking the lunch I’d brought to the floor before storming out. The soup I had spent hours simmering stained the floor and the hem of my dress. The silence in the room was thick with embarrassment. Then, a man in a sharp suit walked over, knelt down, and began to wipe the mess from my dress. “Ma’am,” he said, looking up at me, “your husband has a terrible temper.” It was Ethan. He was no longer the hardened negotiator from the meeting, but a gentle, tame wolf. That was the first time we had met in person. Because of his business dealings with Liam’s company, we started running into each other more often, and we reconnected online. The day I walked out of the city records office, Liam had rushed off to his hotel. Ethan happened to message me. [How have you been?] I told him the truth. [Not great. I’m divorced. I don’t know where to go.] He suggested, [Maybe you should travel. Clear your head.] But a bird that has been caged for too long forgets how to fly. Then he said, [I’m going to Switzerland on business in a week. It’s beautiful there. Want to come along?] [Yes.] 6 “Did you make other plans?” he asked now, his voice tight with worry. I looked at the overflowing bathtub and was at a loss for words. “No.” “Then why did you change your mind?” “Because… I’m just tired.” My bleak, pathetic life was exhausting. I didn’t want to fight anymore. There was a long silence on the other end of the line. For a while, all I could hear was the sound of the wind. I thought he was about to hang up. I was about to get up and go back to the bathroom. Then he spoke again. “Let me take care of you. Then you won’t have to be so tired.” I froze. My resolve to leave this world alone crumbled. With a trembling finger, I managed a single, affirmative sound. “Okay.” Ethan was unbelievably fast. I don’t know how fast he was driving, but by the time we hung up, he was already downstairs. He changed his flight, picked me up, and we headed straight for the airport. It was so sudden it felt like a kidnapping. When we boarded the plane, my hair was still damp. I was in a daze. He got me a blanket, draped it over my shoulders, ordered me a hot drink, and pressed it into my hands. Then, like a magician, he pulled a stack of magazines from his bag and set them in front of me. “You can look at these if you get bored. You studied art, right? These are some of the most respected publications from the last few years. I thought you might be interested.” His voice was gentle, comforting. “I just have a little work to do. Let me know if you need anything.” After I nodded, he turned to his laptop and began to work. The light from the screen illuminated his handsome face, his long fingers flying across the keyboard. He looked exactly like the stoic, unapproachable executives from the movies. But for some reason, I felt a sense of peace. I sipped my drink, feeling the warmth return to my body. I opened a magazine, and a riot of color filled my vision, a stark contrast to the black and white world I had been living in. The moon outside the window was bright. It lit up the sky. It felt like it could light me up, too. 7 When we arrived in Bern, the capital of Switzerland, Ethan took me to our hotel. One suite. I took the master bedroom, he took the guest room. He was there to inspect a potential partner’s manufacturing plant, a deal that was crucial for his company’s future. So the first week was incredibly busy. He was gone before I woke up each morning, leaving only a handwritten note and a freshly made breakfast. And a new, updated travel guide for the day. The guides were meticulously detailed: which bus to take, which restaurant to eat at, the best time to visit each attraction. He was like an invisible tour guide—I couldn’t see him, but he was everywhere. Following his guides, I visited art galleries, museums, clock towers, rose gardens… I took pictures, ate delicious food, saw incredible sights, and experienced all kinds of performances. It was magical, exhilarating. Even the most ordinary streets were fascinating. I could spend ages just looking at a uniquely designed streetlight. I felt like a country bumpkin, wandering through this magnificent city. But I had never felt so relaxed, so free. Liam had never taken me on a real trip. He always said that with my history of depression, I needed to limit my exposure to the outside world, to keep my mind from wandering. Trapped in his gilded cage, I had thought life was utterly pointless. But now, I found myself falling in love with the world. Ethan and I would meet for dinner, our second meeting of the day. He would listen patiently as I shared my adventures, a gentle smile always on his lips. Then he would turn into my personal hype man. “You should seriously consider photography. Your pictures are amazing.” “You’re a walking encyclopedia! I learned so much about art history today.” Being praised like that by someone five years younger than me made my cheeks burn. “Stop it,” I said, embarrassed. “Who taught you to flatter people like that?” “You did.” My heart skipped a beat. The soft light in his eyes pulled me back years ago, to when we first met. He was the student, I was the sponsor. “First place again? You’re incredible!” “You broke the record! You’re going to be amazing one day.” It was as if fate had come full circle. The tree I had planted all those years ago had grown, and now it was sheltering me from the storm. 8 While I was enjoying the peace and quiet in Switzerland, on the other side of the world, someone was losing their mind. The VIP room, usually a scene of wild partying, was thick with a tense, oppressive atmosphere. At the center of the storm was Liam, chain-smoking, his face a dark, terrifying mask. No one dared to speak. Because Kiara was gone. It had been seven days since their fight, and he still hadn’t gotten the apology he was waiting for. A strange panic had started to set in, and he had finally gone home to look for her. But she was gone. Her clothes, her documents, all her personal belongings were missing. He tried to call her, but he was blocked. Every other way he tried to contact her was met with a red exclamation point. This wasn't a trip. This was a severing of all ties. Liam refused to believe Kiara would actually leave him. He had domesticated her, turned her into a helpless, broken-winged canary. She couldn’t survive without him. But what if? The thought gnawed at him. He tried to drink it away, but the alcohol only fanned the flames of his anxiety. Something had slipped from his control, and it infuriated him. Zoey arrived late, dressed in a slinky black dress that showed off a lot of skin. She slid in next to Liam, pressing herself against him. “Who upset my big brother?” she purred. “Tell me, and I’ll fix it.” Liam waved her away dismissively. “It’s nothing. Stay out of it.” “Is it because Kiara ran…” Zoey began, trying to be clever. “I said, stay out of it!” Liam roared, his voice suddenly sharp and dangerous. Zoey flinched, her eyes filling with tears. But this time, Liam didn’t comfort her. He just kept drinking, his voice cold. “If you’re going to be a buzzkill, you can get the hell out.” Zoey shut her mouth and quickly poured him another drink, a silent apology. For all her wildness, she was still just a parasite, surviving on the whims of men. Cut off from her source, she would quickly wither. That night, Liam drank himself into a stupor. Someone had to carry him home. Lying on the cold, empty bed, he groaned, “Honey, get me a glass of water…” But the only answer was a vast, crushing silence.
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