In my sixth year with Liam Goodwin, he got engaged to someone else. Behind my back. I moved out of his apartment that same night, tossing the matching ring we wore into the trash on my way out. After putting in for a transfer, I left the sprawling metropolis of Southport and returned to my seaside hometown, Seabrook. Slowly, I began to piece together a life that didn't revolve around him. And then, on Christmas Eve, I saw him on a snowy street in Seabrook. Liam, who was supposed to be a thousand miles away. The wind whipped around him, but he still stood tall and impossibly handsome. The only difference was the unfamiliar flush of red rimming his eyes. "Willow," he pleaded, his voice cracking. "What do I have to do to make you come back to me?" 1 Liam had just returned from a month-long business trip to North Island, so when he got back, neither of us could keep our hands to ourselves. He was holding me, kissing me until the world melted away, when the phone on the nightstand started to ring. I glanced over casually. The world didn't just melt—it froze. I was plunged into an abyss of ice, a chill seeping deep into my bones. The name flashing on the screen was "Fiancée." With one hand, he picked up the phone, his voice a gentle murmur as he discussed wedding venues and floral arrangements with another woman. His other hand was still tangled in the fabric of my shirt. I shoved him away, my body trembling as I stumbled out of bed, fumbling for the dress and stockings he’d peeled off me and left on the floor. Liam ended the call, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What's with the attitude?" My back was to him, my shaking hands struggling to pull up the zipper on my dress. "Aren't you going to explain? About your fiancée?" He let out a lazy, dismissive laugh. "What's there to explain?" I spun around to face him. "Who is she?" "...Sophia Yates." I froze. I’d heard that name before, years ago. We had only just gotten together when his father had found him, demanding he break things off with me and agree to a strategic marriage with the sole heiress of the Yates family. He had refused, flat out. He even bought this very apartment and asked me to move in with him. Back then, I thought his love for me was real. All his friends knew about us; they called me by his last name, jokingly referring to me as the "Mrs." I had keys to his home, his office. Before he left for North Island, he’d even set a date to come home with me for Christmas to finally meet my parents. Every single thing he did felt like what a real partner would do. I never, not for a second, imagined he would get engaged to someone else. Meeting my look of utter disbelief, Liam just shrugged with a casual smile. "Why so shocked? I'm twenty-eight. It's perfectly normal to have a fiancée." The words hit me like a club to the head. Blood rushed to my ears, a dull roar drowning out everything else. "Then what about us? What did the last ten years mean to you?" His patience wore thin. He swung his legs out of bed and started pulling on his clothes. "Honestly, this whole interrogation is getting old. We're adults, Willow. Sleeping together, living together... what does any of it really prove? I never once said anything about marrying you." 2 He lit a cigarette, and the ring on his finger caught the light—a perfect match to the one on mine. He’d slept with me, given me a ring, but he never planned to marry me. What was I to him, then? A tool for his pleasure? A warm body on call? A bedmate he could kick to the curb whenever he pleased? A shiver traced its way down my spine, and I clutched the fabric of my dress over my chest. It did nothing to stop the trembling. I couldn’t forget our first time. He’d half-coaxed, half-pleaded with me until I gave in. It hurt, a sharp, tearing pain. But it was him—the boy I’d had a crush on for what felt like a lifetime. And because it was him, even the pain became something tender, something that etched itself into my very bones. We made it official the next day. Was that it? Was I too easy to win, and therefore not worth holding onto? "Are you... serious? About the engagement?" "Of course. Who jokes about their own marriage?" I closed my eyes, swallowing the bitter wave of grief and humiliation that rose in my throat. In front of the wrong person, every vulnerability, every tear, is just a punchline for their amusement. "Okay," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. "I get it." I finished dressing and started to pack. I’d lived here for six years. Every pillow, every picture frame, every goddamn plant had been chosen by me. I’d watched this place transform from a cold, empty shell into a warm, lived-in home. I had built a life here. But now that it was time to leave, I realized how little of it was actually mine. One suitcase was all it took. Liam sat on the couch, watching me, a storm brewing in his eyes. He chain-smoked, his jaw tight with irritation. "Willow, what the hell are you doing? Did I say you had to leave? Even when I get married, you can still be with me..." "So I'm supposed to be grateful? Thank you for offering me the position of your mistress? Liam, you really think that little of me!" My voice rose to a shout, sharp and raw. His face turned to ice. "Fine. You're so pure, so noble. I'm not good enough for you! But I'm telling you right now, Willow Evans, if you walk out that door tonight, don't you ever think about coming back!" I wiped the tears from my face, pulled the ring from my finger, and hurled it at him. It clattered on the floor between us. "Goodbye, Liam. For good." 3 Christmas was just around the corner, and a damp, bone-aching cold had settled over Southport. The forecast had called for snow that night. As I stepped out of the building, I saw a pristine blanket of white covering everything. I managed a weak, ironic smile. For once, the weatherman got it right. I dragged my suitcase through the fresh snow, the wheels struggling against the powder. Luckily, the cab I’d called arrived quickly. The driver helped me lift my suitcase into the trunk. "Whoa, that's a heavy one, miss!" he said with a friendly grunt. "Movin' out in the middle of the night? Not coming back, huh?" As the taxi pulled away from the curb, I took one last look at the familiar window, now just a distant, glowing square in the swirling snow. "No," I whispered. "Never again." I found a cheap hotel near my office and spent the rest of the night scrolling through apartment listings on my phone. Rent in Southport was steep; a decent one-bedroom in a safe neighborhood would run me a few thousand a month. I was trying to calculate my savings when I drifted off, my phone still clutched in my hand. In my dreams, I saw our past unfold, but this time, I was watching from above. I saw myself at the freshman orientation welcome event, standing on stage singing. And I saw Liam in the audience, his gaze fixed on me, his eyes filled with a captivating mix of admiration and awe. When the song ended, he came on stage with a bouquet of flowers. "That was incredible," he’d said, his voice confident, with a slight, charming edge of arrogance. "I'm Liam Goodwin, from the finance department. We should get to know each other." He said it like a statement, not a question, as if he was certain I’d be as captivated as he was. I looked at the eighteen-year-old me in my dream, her cheeks flushed, and whispered through my own tears, "Willow, don't tell him your name." But a man with a face that perfect and a spirit that untamed is a lethal combination for an eighteen-year-old girl. Of course I took the flowers. And of course I told him my name. After that, he was everywhere. He chased away every other guy who showed even a flicker of interest in me. When I complained, he’d cup the back of my neck, his voice a low growl. "You looking for trouble, Evans? You think you can date someone without my permission?" My heart would flutter. I thought he was jealous. Looking back, I see it for what it was: the simple, brutish possessiveness of a man laying claim to a prize. For four years of college, he was the only man I was close to. He took me everywhere, introduced me to his oldest friends, and beamed with pride when they called me the "Mrs." I would blush and say nothing. This ambiguous dance continued until the year we graduated. Liam’s mother, who had been sick for years, finally lost her battle. On the night of the funeral, he showed up at my tiny apartment, reeking of whiskey. His tears were cold against my neck as he held me, his trembling lips finding mine. It was our first real kiss. My mind went blank. When I finally came to my senses, I tried to push him away, but he murmured against my ear, his voice thick with grief, "Willow, please... don't say no. You're all I have left." And just like that, I lost the will to fight. It was a night of tangled limbs and whispered grief. When I woke up the next morning, he was gone. I swallowed my disappointment and got ready for work, just like any other day. But then he came back, bursting through the door, out of breath from running up the stairs. In his hand, he held a small box. His eyes, when he looked at me, seemed to hold all the stars in the universe. He smiled, a real, brilliant smile, and held out his hand. "Willow Evans," he said. "Be with me." 4 I woke to the cold, damp feeling of a tear-soaked pillow. A message from Liam, sent in the dead of night, was waiting on my phone. [I'm selling the apartment. I won't be living there after the wedding anyway. You should come get the rest of your things. Clear it all out.] A bitter laugh escaped my lips. There was nothing left in that apartment that belonged to me. Nothing but the humiliating, laughable memories of the last few years. I typed back: [No thanks. Just throw it all away.] It took a long time for him to reply. [Suit yourself.] Two words. That's all it took to erase our entire history. I looked at my reflection in the dark screen of my phone. Puffy eyes, red nose—a complete and utter wreck. Get it together, Willow, I told myself. It's just a breakup. You're fine. You're okay. My lip trembled, and a fresh wave of tears streamed down my face. Just then, my mom called. "Willow, honey, are you busy? You know how you were craving that clam chowder from home? Well, the snow finally stopped, so I went out and shipped a care package to you. The whole town is already decorated for Christmas! It made me miss you. When you were home, we’d have started baking the Christmas cookies by now. With you gone, your dad and I just don't have the heart for it." Hearing her voice, a painful lump formed in my throat. After college, I rarely went home. Between work and Liam, there was never enough time. And after his mother passed, his relationship with his father soured, so he stopped going to his family's estate for the holidays. To keep him company, I stayed with him, every single Christmas. My parents never said a word, but I could hear the loneliness in their voices over the phone. When I thought about it, I’d been a terrible daughter. I’d hurt the people who loved me most for a man who wasn't worth it. I had planned on taking extra time off this year, to finally bring Liam home to meet them. Now, there was no point. The thought of him sent a sharp, stabbing pain through my chest, and the tears started flowing again. I pressed my hand over my mouth, trying to stifle my sobs. My mom, oblivious, chattered on. "I was going to send you some lamb shanks too! But your dad reminded me that Liam can't stand the smell of lamb, so I just packed some of my special chili oil instead. A little spoonful of that in the chowder is amazing! Oh, and is Liam still having trouble sleeping? I got him some herbal remedies from a well-known local herbalist. Your cousin's wife swears by him—cured her insomnia right up. I sent those along too..." I bit down hard on my lip, the ache in my heart growing with every word she spoke. From the day they learned about Liam, my parents had treated him like a son-in-law. They knew his mother had passed away young and worried he had no one to look after him. The last time I’d visited, I’d mentioned his insomnia offhandedly, and my mom had scoured half of Seabrook to find a remedy. All they wanted was for us to be happy. And I was about to break their hearts. 5 After a long monologue, my mom finally noticed my silence. "Willow? Honey, you there?" I cleared my throat. "Yeah, Mom. I'm here." They say a mother always knows. The moment I spoke, she caught it. "What's wrong, sweetie? Your voice... Are you sick? Or... have you been crying?" For years, I’d lived by a simple rule: only share the good news. They were too far away to help with the bad, and it would only cause them to worry. But in that moment, all I wanted was to crawl into my mother's arms. I wiped my face with a tissue. "Mom," I choked out. "Liam and I... we broke up." There was a long pause on the other end. Then, a sigh of relief. "Oh, is that all? I thought something terrible had happened. A breakup? Well, thank goodness." I was so stunned I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Mom, I'm heartbroken!" "In today's world, with all the stress everyone's under, a broken heart is the least of your worries! Let me ask you something. Losing your job or losing a boyfriend, pick one." I was silent. "Okay, how about this? Me and your dad getting sick, or losing a boyfriend, pick one." "...Mom, why would you even say that?" "Last one. The world ending, or losing a boyfriend, pick one." And just like that, a strange sense of perspective washed over me. I still had my job. My parents were safe and sound. The world was, in fact, not ending. Things were pretty great, actually. "I feel better, Mom. Thank you." "That's my girl. Hey, Willow... you only stayed in Southport for Liam, right? Now that you two are over, have you thought about coming back home? To Seabrook?" I froze. "Back to Seabrook?" "Yes! The town's really been booming these last few years! It's not so different from Southport anymore! And didn't your company just open a new branch here this year? Your dad and I wanted you to transfer then, but because of Liam... well, never mind him. The point is, housing is so much cheaper here. We could help you get a small condo. You could live on your own, or stay with us and rent it out for extra income..." The more she talked, the more excited she became. She hung up abruptly, saying she needed to go discuss the plan with my dad. I looked out the window at Southport's dreary, gray sky and thought about the pure, unadulterated joy in my mother's voice. Ever since I met Liam, my world had orbited around him. He’d said he wanted me to build a life in Southport, so I never even considered going home. I never saw how much my parents missed me, how much they longed to have me close. In that moment, the decision was made. From now on, the only people my world would revolve around were the ones who truly loved me back. … After pulling myself together, I went to the office and spoke with the HR director about transferring to the Seabrook branch. I didn't mention the breakup, just that I wanted to be closer to my aging parents. As it turned out, the Seabrook office was expanding and needed experienced people to lead the new teams. After a moment's consideration, the director approved it on the spot. All I had to do was submit the formal request online and finish handing off my current projects. It was all so... easy. Maybe, I thought, even the universe wanted Liam and me to be apart.
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