My Ex- Husband Wants A Second Chance

My world shattered the day my husband handed me divorce papers on our anniversary.

I never wanted the marriage, but I did it to save my father’s company.

Now, he’s back, begging for a second chance, claiming he’s changed.

But can a heart that’s been broken ever truly heal?

As I rebuild my life, torn between a past that hurts me and a future that scares me, I face a choice .. forgive the man who betrayed me or walk away for good.

I slammed the door shut behind me, the sound echoing through the empty hallway.

My heels clicked against the hardwood floor as I tossed my bag onto the table beside my door, barely glancing at the mail stacked neatly by the door.

It was automatic at this point.. come home, drop everything, and pretend like I wasn’t about to fall apart.

It's 27th of August.

Today marked a year since my world had shattered, since Liam had walked out of my life with nothing but a cold, emotionless look and a signed set of divorce papers.

On our anniversary, no less.

I felt the familiar tightness in my chest, the same suffocating feeling that had haunted me every day since then.

I kicked off my shoes and made my way to the kitchen, ignoring the slight tremble in my hands as I poured myself a glass of wine.

The rich aroma filled the air, but it did little to soothe the storm brewing inside me.

I took a sip, letting the bitter liquid coat my throat, hoping it would numb the memories clawing their way to the surface.

The clink of the glass against the counter was louder than I intended as I set it down with more force than necessary.

I stared at the dark red liquid, swirling it absentmindedly, trying to lose myself in its depths. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t escape the nagging thought that today should have been different.

Today should have been a celebration, not a painful reminder of everything that went wrong.. a celebration of the day I got married to Liam, the man I loved or…used to love?

I reached for my phone, swiping it open to find a message from my best friend, Maya.

“You okay, Soph? I’m here if you need me.”

She knew what today meant, knew how much it still hurt, even if I didn’t want to admit it.

My fingers hovered over the screen, contemplating whether to respond. I didn’t want to drag her into this, into my mess.

Not when I was supposed to have moved on, supposed to be stronger. But as I stared at her message, a small part of me wanted to reach out, to let someone else carry the weight, even if just for a moment.

I sighed and set the phone down, leaving the message unanswered. Instead, I grabbed the wine and headed to the living room.

The soft hum of the city outside filtered through the windows, but inside, it was just me and the ghosts of what could have been.

I sank into the couch, curling up with the glass in hand, trying to find comfort in the familiar surroundings.

The photos on the wall caught my eye.. pictures of places I’d visited, friends I’d laughed with, but not a single one of Liam.

I had taken those down months ago, unwilling to let his memory linger any longer than necessary. But even without the photos, his presence still lingered, like a shadow that refused to leave.

I took another sip, feeling the warmth spread through me, but it did little to dull the ache.

The TV remote lay within reach, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn it on.

The idea of filling the silence with meaningless noise felt pointless, as if it would only make the emptiness more pronounced.

Instead, I let my mind wander, back to the day everything fell apart.

I could still see the look on Liam’s face, the way his jaw had tightened as he handed me the papers.

No explanations, no apologies.. just a cold, clinical end to what had never truly begun.

Our marriage had been arranged, a business deal between our families, and it had felt that way from the start. But I had tried, hadn’t I?

I had tried to make it work, to find something real in the midst of the formality.

The bitterness in my chest grew stronger, and I took another long drink, finishing the glass in one gulp.

It burned going down, but I welcomed the distraction.

I reached for the bottle, hesitating for just a second before pouring another glass.

Tonight wasn’t about restraint. Tonight was about surviving, about getting through the next few hours without breaking.

The sound of my phone vibrating against the table pulled me out of my thoughts.

My first instinct was to ignore it, to let the call go to voicemail and pretend like he didn’t still have the power to make my heart race. But something in me, some deeprooted curiosity or maybe just masochism, made me pick up the phone.

“Hello?” My voice was steady, cold even, but inside, I was anything but.

“Good evening, Ms. Sophie. This is Angela from the Crescent Gallery. I’m calling to confirm the final details for tomorrow’s art exhibition.”

I exhaled a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I could feel my pulse start to slow down, and the tension in my shoulders eased just a fraction.

“Oh, yes. The exhibition,” I replied, trying to shift my mind from the storm brewing within me to the task at hand. “Everything is still on schedule, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Angela confirmed. “We’ve got everything set up just the way you wanted. The pieces have all been arranged, and the lighting looks perfect. We’re expecting a good turnout, so I wanted to make sure you’re prepared for the opening reception.”

“Thank you, Angela. I appreciate the update,” I said, forcing a smile into my voice. “I’ll be there early to go over the final touches.”

“Great. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to call.”

After ending the call, I leaned back on the couch and stared at the ceiling, trying to focus on the fact that tomorrow would be a busy day.

The exhibition had been months in the making, something to throw myself into after Liam left.

It had been a welcome distraction, a way to lose myself in work and avoid the mess that was my personal life.

But now, with the day almost here, the thrill I should have felt was overshadowed by the pain that refused to stay buried.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair.

I knew I couldn’t afford to fall apart now, not with the exhibition just hours away.

The gallery had been kind enough to give me full creative control, and I’d poured every ounce of energy into curating the perfect showcase.

The thought of seeing my work displayed, of watching people admire the pieces I’d painstakingly chosen and arranged, should have filled me with pride.

But instead, it felt hollow, like I was just going through the motions.

I placed the glass down and closed my eyes, trying to push away the thoughts that kept circling back to Liam, to the empty promises and shattered dreams.

Tomorrow, I would have to wear a mask, smile at strangers, and pretend that everything was perfect, even though inside, I felt like I was drowning.

“Sorry I couldn't make it down yesterday, I got so busy at the restaurant, being a Friday, it was dead busy” Maya said as we pulled out of our brief hug and gave a peck on my cheeks.

"Hey, don't worry about it," I said, smiling at Maya. "I'm just glad you made it today. Are you ready to be amazed by all this art?"

Maya rolled her eyes playfully. "Girl, I'm just here for the free wine and cheese, let's be honest."

I laughed. "Well, lucky for us, there's plenty of both. So, tell me, what's new with you? How's the restaurant going?"

Maya shook her head, a wry smile on her lips.

"Ugh, it's been a rollercoaster," Maya groaned as we made our way through the exhibition hall. "But hey, at least I still have a job. Some days I think that's all I can ask for."

I nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, things are definitely tough out there. But hey, at least you get to work with food, right? That's gotta be a perk."

Maya gave me a sideways glance, her eyes sparkling. "Girl, you know how much of a foodie I am.”

"Speaking of food, have you tried that new fusion spot down on Third?" Maya asked, pausing to admire a particularly striking sculpture. "I hear they do a killer misoglazed salmon."

"Oh, I haven't," I said, admiring the sculpture as well. "But that sounds delicious. Maybe we should make a date for it sometime soon?"

"Definitely," Maya nodded, moving on to the next piece. "But first, I want you to show me some of this art that's got you so excited.”

"Right this way," I said, leading Maya deeper into the exhibition.

The Crescent Gallery’s exhibition had been a success, and my dad insisted I attend this charity event as a representative.

It was a chance to make connections, to network, and to keep the gallery’s name in the spotlight.

I had agreed, thinking it would be a simple enough task. A few hours of polite conversation, and I could slip away unnoticed.

But the moment I had stepped into the crowded hall, I knew it wouldn't be that simple.

The chatter was deafening, and I felt overwhelmed by the sea of people.

I tried to focus on Maya's company, on the art, on anything to distract myself from the weight of expectations on my shoulders.

"Ooh, now this is intriguing," Maya said, stopping in front of a large canvas that seemed to be painted entirely in shades of black. "What's the story here?"

I took a step closer, trying to remember the details from the gallery's catalog.

"This piece is called 'The Void'," I explained. "The artist, JeanPaul LaCointe, said he was inspired by the darkness he felt after losing someone close to him."

Maya leaned in, studying the texture of the paint.

"That makes sense. You can almost feel the emotion radiating from it. I'd say he did a pretty good job capturing that emptiness.”

As Maya spoke, I lost myself in the painting, swept away by its depth and emotion.

I remembered our trips to art galleries, the way he would study each piece with a critical eye, pointing out details I would have missed.

I had always loved that about Liam, his passion for beauty, his appreciation for the finer things in life.

But now, all those memories felt like mirages, shimmering illusions that had vanished into thin air.

Maya's voice snapped me back to reality, her words startling me out of my reverie.

"Hey, are you still with me?" she asked, a worried look in her eyes. "You seemed a million miles away just now.”

I forced a smile, trying to brush off her concern. "Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about... something else."

She studied me for a moment, her gaze shrewd. “Don't tell me this is about that piece of shit?”

I bristled at her words, even though I knew she meant well.

"Maya, please," I said, my voice sharp. "I don't need you to remind me of what he did. I'm not stupid, okay?"

"I'm not saying you are," she countered, her eyes softening. "But Soph, it's been a year. You can't keep living like this, bottling everything up."

I felt my resolve crumble, tears welling in my eyes. "I know, I know. I'm just…”

"Hey, it's okay. I'm not asking you to forget. But maybe, just maybe, we can find a way to move forward, together?"

I leaned into her embrace, grateful for the warmth.

“How about you give Ethan a chance? You never can tell, even if it's just to get distracted or something? Soph, it's been a whole fing year! Are you gon’ keep leaving like this?? Liam doesn't freaking deserve it!”

Maya’s words hit me like a slap to the face, jarring me out of my melancholy.

"What? Are you serious? Ethan?" I scoffed, pulling away from her embrace. "He's the last person I want to see right now, let alone give a chance to."

Maya narrowed her eyes, her expression fierce. "And why is that? Because he's actually interested in you, and not just using you like Liam did?"

"That's not fair!" I protested, my cheeks flushing with anger.

"Maybe not," Maya conceded, her voice gentler now. "But you've got to admit, you've been avoiding him for a reason.

And I think that reason is that you're scared. Scared of getting hurt again, of opening yourself up to someone new."

She paused, waiting for me to respond. But all I could do was stare at the floor, lost in my own thoughts.

"Look, Soph, I'm not trying to push you into anything. But just hear me out, okay? Give Ethan a chance. Even if it's just for one date, one conversation," Maya pressed, her voice insistent but still kind. "You don't have to jump into anything serious.” She paused then continued..

“But who knows? Maybe he's exactly what you need right now. A distraction, like you said. Or maybe, just maybe, he's more than that. Maybe he's someone you can trust, someone who actually cares about you."

Her words rang in my head, a faint echo of hope.

Was she right?

Could Ethan be the one to pull me out of this darkness, to help me find the light again?

"Sorry, Sophie. Duty calls," Maya murmured, grabbing for her phone. "I've got to go. But assure me you'll think about what I said. Ethan may be worth the risk."

I nodded, throwing her a faint grin. "Yeah, absolutely. I'll think about it."

Maya gave me a short embrace, her eyes begging. "Please do. And call me later, okay? No matter what you decide, I want to know about it."

"I will," I vowed.

With Maya gone, I felt the weight of my anguish return, crushing down on me like a thick shroud.

The exhibition space appeared to get darker, the paintings blurring before my eyes.

I staggered aimlessly into the corridor, yearning for a way out, for a moment of calm.

The lights appeared to flicker, the voices echoing like the moans of ghosts.

I was sinking, suffocated under the weight of my memories, of my grief.

In my rush, I bumped with a person, too engrossed in my own thoughts to notice.

"Hey, take it easy," the deep voice urged, immediately unmistakable.

My head sprang up, my eyes catching his.

"I'm so sorry," I muttered, my pulse beating as I raised my head and there, it seemed like the world stopped.

It felt like my eyes were deceived but then I looked again, no.

My breath froze in my throat as our eyes connected.

Liam.

No way.

He stood before me, towering and handsome as ever, his eyes searing into my soul.

I took my time to observe him. He looked different.

The strong angles of his face were softened by something I couldn’t quite pinpoint.

His outfit was finely fitted, as usual, but there was a subtle difference in his attitude.. a looseness in his stance, a kindness in his gaze.

The cold, aloof guy I had formerly known appeared to have been replaced by someone… warmer.

The sight of him standing there, so serene and confident, aroused a combination of feelings I wasn’t prepared for.

I pushed myself to turn aside, thinking the moment would pass, but I could still feel his eyes searing into me.

I diverted my focus back to an attendant walking by, my heart racing in my chest.

I needed a drink, something to steady my nerves. As I grabbed for a glass of champagne, a voice from behind me made my blood run cold.

“Sophia.”

His voice was like a whisper of the past, familiar but distant.

I hadn’t heard him mention my name in over a year, and suddenly, just one phrase had the capacity to ruin all I had fought so hard to repair.

“Liam,” I said, keeping my voice firm, though it was the last thing I felt.

For a minute, none of us spoke.

The silence between us was thick, packed with a thousand unsaid messages.

I couldn’t bring myself to say anything more, terrified that if I did, the dam would collapse, and everything I had been keeping back would come gushing out.

“You look… well,” he eventually said, his voice laced with something that nearly sounded like remorse.

I faked a smile, one that didn’t reach my eyes. “You too.”

Another silence.

The courteous, detached kind that people use when they don’t know what else to say.

I despised it, hated that we had become strangers, tiptoeing around one other as if we hadn’t ever shared everything.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he lied, shattering the silence that had fallen between us..

He didn't expect to see me in my dad's gallery??

“Neither did I,” I acknowledged, taking a drink of my champagne. “I’m here for work.”

He nodded, his gaze wandering to the glass in my palm before meeting my eyes again. “You’re doing well then? With the gallery?”

“It’s been… good. Busy.” I kept my responses brief, not wanting to offer him more than necessary.

The less I talked, the safer I felt.

Liam appeared to detect my uncertainty, and for a second, I feared he may walk away. But instead, he took a step closer, his voice falling to a tone that made my pulse skip a beat.

“Sophie.. I’ve been thinking… I’d want to talk. Really talk.”

I tensed, the words hanging in the air between us.

It was the last thing I wanted, to speak to him.

Even though running into him now, I couldn't articulate my sentiments.. anger, hatred, relief, delight, I simply couldn't place it.

Still, the part of me that had loved him started to wonder what he had to say.

My voice barely above a whisper, I said, "I don't think that's a good idea."

He looked down, as if giving his next words much thought.

When he spoke again, there was a warmth in his tone that threw me off guard.

“I know I hurt you, Soph. I know I wasn’t the spouse you deserved. But things… they’re different today. I understand if you never want to forgive me. But can we at least attempt to speak things through? Just this once?"

I wanted to believe him, wanted to hope he had changed, just maybe.

But it was impossible to overlook the recollections of our last days together, that coldness in his eyes as he handed me the papers.

"I've moved on, Liam," I said, more for my own benefit than his. "You should too."

He opened his mouth as if insisting, but I cut him short.

"Please, do not do this. Not Here." I said

Though I remained fast, his frantic look almost brought me down.

Not after everything. No. I cannot let him back in.

I turned and left without waiting for his response.. my heels clicked on the marble floor and I could hear it.

I stopped only when I went outside, the clean night air slapped my face like a kick.

My heart was racing, my thoughts racing in a tempest of feeling.

Seeing Liam once again and hearing him speak those things was like dragging out an old wound.. one that never really healed.

Leaning on the railing, I tried to breathe.

Tears welled in my eyes, so the city lights blurred, but I blinked them away.

I wouldn’t allow him see me cry. Not again.

But as much as I wanted to forget, to bury the past where it belonged, I couldn’t escape the sensation that this wasn’t the last time I would see Liam.

And it frightened me more than anything.

Outside, I dashed through the parking lot with my footsteps reverberating off the concrete walls.

Though my vision was cloudy from the tears I was fighting, I pressed on.

Not here, not in front of everyone.

I simply wanted to get to the vehicle, away from prying eyes and the oppressive intensity of the occasion.

Once I approached the vehicle, I struggled with the keys, my hands trembling violently.

As soon as I entered, I shut the door and at finally let go.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, hot and relentless, as the memories I had been striving so hard to hide surged back, hard like a tsunami.

It was as if I had been sent back in time to that evening one year ago.

My heart buoyant with excitement, I had gotten home from work.

Our first anniversary arrived, and while our marriage had started off rocky, I had started to believe that maybe, just perhaps, we were moving forward.

That we were making our way to each other, slowly but certainly.

I had even made a particular effort that evening. I picked up Liam’s favorite takeout, got a bottle of the wine he loved, and even put on the outfit he had previously admired.

I wanted to show him that I was trying, that I was devoted to making our marriage work, even if it had begun as nothing more than a business arrangement.

But as I came through the door, all of that optimism, that fragile feeling that we were constructing something genuine, collapsed.

He was waiting for me in the living room, his demeanor icy and disconnected.

I recall how my heart had skipped a beat, but not out of love.. out of dread.

There was something about the way he stared at me, like if I was nothing more than a stranger.

And then he gave me the envelope.

“Happy anniversary,” he had remarked, his voice devoid of any affection.

The words felt like a smack in the face, but I still didn’t comprehend. Not until I opened the mail and found the divorce papers glaring back at me.

It seemed like my world had stopped.

I couldn't inhale, couldn't process. I was locked in a stare with the documents, a fierce struggle of astonishment and sadness storming within me.

How could he do this?

How could he terminate it all so coldly, so viciously, without any warning?

But the worst was yet to come.

As I stood there, frozen by the shock, I glimpsed something out of the corner of my eye.

Movement in the bedroom.

Before I could even grasp what was occurring, a lady came from the bedroom, her clothing untidy, her demeanor cocky.

She didn’t even attempt to disguise it.. her being there, in my house, on my anniversary!

Liam didn’t utter a thing.

He didn’t attempt to explain, didn’t provide any justifications.

He simply stood there, watching as my heart splintered into a million pieces, his indifference searing worse than any words ever could.

I had always understood that our marriage wasn’t founded on love. I hadn’t wanted to marry him in the first place, but I had no option.

His family had invested considerably in my father’s firm, and our marriage was part of the agreement.

It was a commercial transaction, nothing more. But I had ventured to dream, daring to trust that maybe, with time, things may change.

That we could find love, or at least anything close to it.

But Liam had made it obvious from the outset that he didn’t consider me as his wife.

To him, I was merely a means to an end, a piece in his family’s vast strategy.

And yet, despite everything, I had fell for him.

My naive, innocent heart had hung on the belief that, should I love him enough, should I work hard enough, he could one day love me back.

But all he had traded me for was suffering. Shame and suffering.

Sitting in my car now, my tears began to fade gradually and I wondered how I had permitted things to get to this.

How I had let myself be so vulnerable, so stupid.

Though I knew I couldn't stay here, wallowing in the past, my chest hurt terribly. I had to gather myself together and figure out how forward I could go.

But how could I, when the past kept reartracking into my life?

Every time I saw his pictures on the internet, every time I heard his name, the raw, fresh scars emerged.

I cleaned my eyes and inhaled trembingly.

I couldn't let him see me this way or tell him how badly he had damaged me. Not anymore, he did not deserve that degree of influence over me.

I started the car with a faltering hand, the buzz of the engine a pleasant detour from the storm within me.

I had to leave this place and try to leave as much space between Liam and myself.

Because I wasn't sure I would survive the next encounter if I didn't.

Searching for Angela's number among my contacts, my fingers shook.

I tried to sound calm and to keep the tremble off my voice when she answered.

"Angela, I'm sorry to bother you, something very important came up. Could you run the show for the remaining evening? I would really appreciate it."

Angela's voice was full of anxiety. "Of course, Sophie. Is everything okay? Do you need me to come by?”

"No, no, it's fine," I lied. "I simply have to take care of something personal. Thanks for understanding, Angela."

I stopped the phone before she could ask any more questions, my hands still quivering as I grasped the driving wheel.

I wasn't sure I believed my own remarks. Nothing was alright, not anymore.

And yet, I couldn't let anybody realize exactly how damaged I was.

I drove out from the exhibition hall, my heart hammering as I pushed myself to concentrate on the road ahead.

In a few minutes, I arrived at my flat.

The complex was a calm, contemporary edifice, with its glass and steel exterior reflecting the setting sun's rays.

I drove into the parking lot, pleased to be home.

But as I drove into my place, I caught sight of a gorgeous sports vehicle parked close, its owner lounging nonchalantly against the side.

It was Ethan, his towering, muscular body silhouetted against the car's gleaming surface, his phone held to his ear.

My heart skipped a beat, even as I attempted to collect myself, brushing away the traces of my tears.

I came out of my car and Ethan was already heading towards me, a worried expression on his face.

His towering, powerful figure moved with an effortless elegance, and despite the stress engraved in his face, there was something soothing about his presence.

He was certainly handsome, but not in the same way as Liam.

Where Liam had a crisp, even scary appeal, Ethan possessed a softness that made him friendlier, more sympathetic.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice low and calming. "I’ve been trying to contact you. It wasn’t connecting. I arrived here a few minutes ago."

I dug inside my backpack, taking out my phone. "It’s been on the whole time," I began, only to see the dark screen. After the call with Angela, the battery must have died. I sighed, feeling a little uncomfortable. "Guess it died."

"It happens," he answered with a tiny grin, but the fear didn’t leave his eyes.

"Come in," I urged, wanting some companionship more than I cared to admit. He nodded, following me inside.

My apartment was basic but attractive, a reflection of my style.

The neutral tones and modest furnishings made the place seem serene, almost like a refuge.

I could feel Ethan’s stare on me as I led him into the living room, where the mellow light of the evening sun streamed through the drapes.

"Can I get you anything?" I asked, attempting to lighten the atmosphere.

"I’m fine," he said, but I could see the hesitancy in his eyes.

I grinned, trying to seem lighthearted. "Are you feeling like a visitor? This is your third time here, you know."

That appeared to lessen the strain a bit.

He laughed, the sound pleasant and familiar, and for a minute, it seemed like the weight on my chest had eased just a bit.

But then he rose up and moved towards me in the kitchen, his look turning serious again.

For a few minutes, he quietly stared at me, and I could feel the intensity in his eyes.

With him, it was always this way. Something about the way he stared at me made me feel vulnerable, as if he could see beyond the defenses I had put up.

"Are you okay?" he said in a soft but urgent tone.

"Yes," I answered quickly, but my voice betrayed me, trembling as I struggled to keep back the emotions that were about to boil over again.

I sighed hard, turning to move to the living room, but before I could take a step, he reached out and gently pulled me back.

That little touch was all it needed for the dam to shatter.

The tears I had been battling so hard to hold at away came gushing out, and I couldn’t stop them.

My shoulders trembled with the power of my cries, and I felt Ethan’s arms wrap around me, bringing me close.

"Oh no," he mumbled, his voice full of worry as he escorted me to the sofa.

He sat with me, not letting go, and I was glad for the comfort, for the warmth of his arms.

"What’s wrong?" he questioned again, and this time, I couldn’t keep back.

I told him everything.

About the marriage, the divorce, the humiliation of discovering Liam with another woman on our anniversary. The way it had all gone apart, leaving me devastated and bewildered.

Ethan remained quiet while I talked, but I could see the emotions flashing in his eyes.. astonishment, disbelief, and something more that I couldn’t quite describe. Was it jealousy? Hurt? Or was I simply imagining it, seeing what I wanted to see in the depths of his gaze?

When I finished, there was a lengthy hush.

Ethan didn’t talk, but his hand never left me, his hold warm and solid.

It was if he understood that words wouldn’t be enough to take away the agony, that all I needed right now was someone to be there, to listen, to care.

Finally, I glanced up at him, and our eyes connected.

There was a compassion in his face that made my heart hurt, but I immediately glanced away, unable to maintain his sight for long.

It was too much, too soon. I couldn’t allow myself be dragged into those feelings again, couldn’t let myself dream for something that may never happen.

“Ethan, I’m sorry,” I mumbled, drawing my hand away and wiping the tears from my face. “I didn’t mean to burden you with all of this.”

He shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize, Sophie. I’m pleased you told me. You’ve been dragging this around for too long.”

His remarks were so kind, so sympathetic, that they made me want to weep all over again. But I kept it together, attempting to recover some sort of control.

I took a long breath, seeking to settle my emotions. “It’s just been hard, you know? Liam was the first person I truly allowed in, and he... he broke me.”

Ethan nodded, his face still warm, still compassionate. “I get it, Soph. But you’re stronger than you realize. You’ve gone through hell, yet you’re still standing.”

I smiled faintly at his words, but the anguish in my chest didn’t ease. “Thanks, Ethan. It means a lot, but I’m not sure I’m ready for... anything right now.”

“I understand,” he responded simply, not pressuring me for more. And I appreciated it, more than he could know.

A quiet stillness crept between us, and my mind strayed to how we had met.

It had been two months ago, in a restaurant. A chance meeting, really.

We had exchanged numbers, met up for a couple occasions, and things had simply... clicked.

There was something about him, something that made it easy to open up to him, to be myself with him. He was different from Liam in so many ways.. softer, kinder, more patient.

I had permitted him to come over to my place last month, then a week ago, and now tonight.

Each time, we had spoken, exchanged tales, and laughed a bit.

It was easy with him, and that terrified me.

I had a warm place for him, that much was evident, but I wasn’t ready.

I couldn’t let my guard down again, couldn’t risk my heart, not after all I had gone through.

What if I wasn’t enough? What if I could never be complete again? I didn’t say any of this out loud, however.

Instead, I nodded and leaned into him, giving myself this one moment of comfort, knowing that I would have to face the reality of my predicament sooner or later.

For now, however, I was pleased to let Ethan hold me, to allow myself feel anything other than anguish, even if it was just for a short time.

Maybe I wasn't as alone as I believed.

I entered my friend’s crowded restaurant, the smells of spices and freshly prepared food filling the air.

Maya, her long dark hair tied up in a bun, spotted me from across the room and waved, a smile on her face.

She was busy with her staff, the laughter and talk of customers filling the area around them.

As I took a seat, Maya waved to me, mouthing "I'll be right there" as she ran back to her cooking station.

As I waited for Maya, I let myself to soak in the spirit of the place.

The hum of discussion, the clinking of glasses, the quiet music in the background.. It was a wonderful break from the seclusion of my flat.

When Maya eventually joined me, she put a hand on my shoulder and then hastily sat down.

“Hey Soph, what were you saying over the phone? You actually meant it??.. you met… He is back in New York??”

I nodded, my guts twisting into knots. "Yeah, he's back. I bumped into him at the Art Exhibition last night."

Maya's eyes widened in surprise. "Liam? The Liam? I can’t believe it! If he was at the Art exhibition, that indicates he must have purposefully come for you, since there's no way he'd visit the Greenwoods’ Art Gallery display and wouldn't expect to see you.. so after everything that happened, he simply comes up like that?"

"Exactly," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. "And the worst thing is, he appeared different. Like he wanted to communicate, like he wasn’t the same guy who delivered me those divorce papers."

Maya’s countenance softened, her palm extending out to cover mine.

"Soph, you’ve gone through hell because of him. You can’t allow him interfere with your brain again."

I sighed, staring down at our hands, feeling the warmth of her support. "I know, but it’s not that simple. Seeing him brought everything back. All the hurt, the humiliation, everything."

Maya clasped my hand softly. "You’re stronger than you think, Soph. You don’t owe him anything, not even your attention. He made his decision."

"But what if he’s changed? What if…"

Maya cut me off, her tone strong.

"No. Don’t even go there. People like him don’t simply change overnight. You need to concentrate on yourself, on going ahead, not on whatifs."

I nodded, knowing she was correct, but a part of me still hurt with the unresolved sentiments that seeing Liam had brought up.

Maya reclined back in her chair, observing me for a time before speaking again.

"Listen, why don’t we take your mind off things? Come assist me in the kitchen. We’re overwhelmed today, and I could use an additional set of hands."

I smiled at her offer, happy for the diversion. "Sure, why not? It’s better than sitting here and overthinking everything."

Maya giggled and pulled me up from the chair. "That’s the spirit! Let’s go to work."

As we proceeded to the kitchen, I felt a bit lighter.

Maybe Maya was correct. Maybe what I needed was to focus on the present, on the people who were truly there for me.

Liam was part of my past, and that’s where he deserved to remain.

As Maya and I worked sidebyside in the busy kitchen, our actions settling into a familiar pattern, the quiet hung heavily between us.

Finally, when she took a pot of noodles off the counter, Maya broke the stillness.

"So," she continued, her voice low, "how are things with Ethan? Last time we talked, you were contemplating giving him a chance."

I stopped, the heat from the fire burning my cheeks as I weighed my response.

"He was at my place last night," I continued, my voice low.

At Maya's joyful shriek, my cheeks flamed with shame, and I attempted to ignore the inquisitive eyes of the other cooks.

"Eiiiiiiiiii! Things are beginning up then?" she remarked, her smile growing. "He’s going to your house now? Wow!"

I chuckled, attempting to shrug off her mocking. "It was simply a brief visit. I don’t believe it signifies anything.”

After screaming and joking at my confession, Maya went serious.

"Sophie, I think this guy genuinely likes you," she said, her voice low and sincere. "You know I don’t simply say that about everyone. But Ethan, he seems different. He appears to truly care about you.”

I paused, uncertain of how to answer. I wanted to believe Maya, to trust in Ethan's sincerity, but the scars Liam had left were still fresh, constantly bleeding.

Finally, I spoke. "Maya, I...I finally spoke out to Ethan about Liam.”

Maya nodded, understanding, and then her eyes brightened up. "Oh, you did? That must have been terrible for you."

I sighed, nodding. "It was, but it also felt like a weight off my chest. Ethan was really sweet about it. He genuinely listened."

Maya's grin grew. "That’s wonderful! Ethan seems like such a lovely person. And he's very persistent, which is a wonderful thing."

I smiled back, but a sense of uncertainty swept over me. "I just...I don’t want to be injured again.”

Maya's face relaxed. She was about to speak when the sound of my phone buzzing in my purse broke through the hum of the kitchen.

She raised an eyebrow, a grin flickering at the corners of her lips. "Ooh, Ethan already checking in on you?" she joked, before adding, "Go ahead, check it."

I took out my phone, my pulse beating as I unlocked the screen.

It was an unknown number.

I was cautious about selecting it in the kitchen.

"I'll be right back," I murmured to Maya, the grin on my face seeming forced. "It's the gallery, I have to take this call."

She nodded, giving me a comforting grin as I swiftly made my way out of the kitchen and into the relative stillness of the restaurant's main dining room.

With my pulse still hammering, I answered the phone, speaking gently.

"Hello?”

I held my breath, hoping for a reaction.

"Sophie, it's your dad. Is this a good time to talk?"

My shoulders dropped with relief, my fingers pushing against my chest as if to slow my beating heart.

"Oh, hey dad. Yes, indeed, I'm at Maya's restaurant but I have a minute."

There was a pause, then his voice was softer as he spoke once again.

"Sweetheart, I have to say something.”

“Of course, what’s up?” I questioned, knowing the weight underlying his words.

"You know, I've been in New York for a few months, working on that business deal. Well, there's a charity gala coming up.. one of those enormous occasions where the entire corporate world gathers. It's crucial for my transaction, and I need things to go smoothly," he continued.

"A charity gala? That sounds intense. But what does this have to do with me?" I asked, not sure of where this was leading.

"I'm not feeling my best, Sophie," he replied, his voice thick with tiredness. "My health has been a bit off lately, and your mother has been worried sick back in London. I'm concerned I won't be able to manage all of the preparations on my own, especially considering how crucial this occasion is. I need you to step in, help me with some of the preparations, and guarantee that everything goes smoothly."

"Dad, of course, I'll help," I said without hesitation. "You know you can depend on me. But are you sure you're okay? If you're not feeling well, maybe you should see a doctor huh."

"Don't worry, I have already scheduled an appointment," he assured me. "But for now, I need to focus on the gala. It's too vital for my firm to go wrong, and with me leaving New York soon, I need to make sure everything is in order."

"Leaving? "Are you going back to London soon?" I queried, the realization that he may not be here much longer settling in.

"Yes, as soon as I'm done with this deal and my health is stable, I'll be heading back home," the guy responded. "But for now, I need your support to make this event a success. It means a lot to me, and I am positive that your involvement will be useful as well."

My concern intensified. "Of course, dad. I will come over. Where are you now?"

He hesitated. "That is the thing. I recently moved into a new apartment. It is a condominium in the Imperial Towers."

I froze. "Imperial Towers? Isn't that...?"

"Yes, it is owned by Liam's family." I didn't want to say anything because I understand how you feel about him, but it's a beautiful firm and they gave me a tremendous deal. "I need your help, Sophie, but if you're not comfortable..."

I swallowed hard, my brain whirling.

My father lives in the same building as Liam. The prospect sickened my stomach, but I couldn't leave my father to fend for himself.

The connection became silent, leaving the weight of my decision hanging in the air.

"I'll be there, Dad," I ultimately replied. "We'll get this gala sorted out together."

He thanked me enthusiastically, his relief clear.

"Thank you, Sophie. I knew I could count on you. See you soon."

We exchanged goodbyes, and as I hung up, I glanced at my phone, lost in thought.

Why was I experiencing a sense of disappointment?

Was I expecting Liam to call? He is a devil, he would never call.

I took a long breath, seeking to escape the bad sensation that clung to me.

As I went back into the restaurant, I noticed Maya at the stove, perfectly completing the spaghetti dish.

The lovely aroma filled the kitchen, temporarily distracting me from the talk I'd just had.

Maya glanced up as I came, her visage fascinated.

"Is everything okay?" You seem a bit strange."

"It was my dad," I answered, smiling as I leaned against the counter.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, her voice laced with dread.

"Yeah, it's just... there's a charity event coming up that Dad needs my participation with. He's been under a lot of stress, and I believe it's getting to him," I remarked, trying to keep a calm voice.

Maya nodded, but her eyes narrowed slightly as she inspected my face.

"So why do you appear like the world has just collapsed? Soph, you are more than capable of managing this."

I hesitated, feeling a familiar knot tighten in my belly.

"It's not just that," I responded gently. "The thing is, Dad will be staying in the same building as Liam while he is in New York. It's not ideal."

Maya nearly dropped her wooden spoon she was holding, her eyes growing wide in surprise.

"What? You have got to be kidding me! Is it the same building? How could this ever happen?"

I shrugged, trying not to show how much it affected me.

"It happened, I think. But the prospect of being so close to Liam again..."

Maya shook her head in disbelief, placing the spoon down and crossed her arms while reclining back.

"No wonder you're feeling this way. There's a lot to contend with."

"Yeah," I groaned, running my fingers over my hair. "It's going to be challenging. But I can't disappoint Dad. He needs me, and I must do this for him."

Maya reached out and squeezed my arm, reassuringly.

"You are stronger than you think, Soph. You'll get over this, even if it means facing Liam again. And who knows. Maybe addressing him may help you find closure."

"Closure," I repeated, the word feeling alien on my tongue. "Maybe you're right. Or maybe it will merely rekindle old pains.

"Either way," Maya remarked with a little smile, "you won't be alone. I'll be here for you no matter what happens."

Her statements were reassuring, however the uncertainty lingered in my mind.

I knew Maya was accurate. I had to be strong for both my father's sake and my own. But the notion of meeting Liam again, being so close to the person who had brought me so much grief, was nearly terrible.

I pushed the thought aside as much as I could and manufactured a smile.

"Thank you, Maya. I appreciate it. Now, what about the pasta? I might need something to keep my mind off things."

Maya grinned, the tension lessening slightly as she returned to the stove. "Coming right up. Let's eat and sort out the rest later."

The next morning, I sat on my bedgazing at the halfpacked luggage in front of me.

I was visiting my dad's new apartment and possibly run into Liam once again, something I wasn't sure I was ready for.

The prospect of seeing him, of perhaps running into him in the corridor or the elevator, wrenched my stomach into knots.

My phone rang on the nightstand, drawing me out of my thoughts. I looked at the computer and saw a message from Ethan.

Hey, how are you holding up?

A little grin pulled at the edges of my mouth.

Ethan had been so wonderful to me over the last several weeks, had a way of making me feel like I wasn’t alone, even when everything around me seemed overpowering.

Me: I’m good, just packing.

His reaction came very instantly.

Ethan: Packing? Are you leaving New York or something?

I grinned and answered.

Me: Lol. No, visiting my dad.

Again, his reaction arrived nearly instantly.

Ethan: Want some company? I can come over if you need assistance or simply someone to chat to.

I paused for a bit, looked around my flat. It was a chaos of clothing, cartons, and halfopened drawers. But the prospect of having Ethan here, of not being alone with my thoughts, was too enticing to pass up.

Me: Sure, it would be nice. I could need the distraction.

Ethan: Be there in 20.

I laid my phone down and glanced around the room again.

It wasn’t just the trash, it was the memories that clung to every nook. I couldn’t help but think of the last time I’d packed up my life like this.. when I left Liam.

A tap at the door shocked me.

I checked the time.. Ethan was early. I hastily brushed a hand through my hair, hoping I didn’t seem as frantic as I felt, and went to open the door.

Ethan was there with a pleasant grin, carrying a tiny bag in his hand.

“I brought snacks,” he added, holding the bag as if it were a peace gift. “Thought you might need a break from all the packing.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle, the strain in my chest relaxing somewhat. “You know me too well.”

His words, so simple but so real, made something within me hurt.

I wasn’t accustomed to this type of support, this kind of kindness.

Liam had never been the soothing kind.. he’d always been aloof, disconnected. But Ethan… he was different. He made me feel secure.

“I appreciate it, really,” I responded, trying to keep my voice calm.

Ethan’s grin was comforting, and he clasped my hand gently. “Of course you do, Soph. You know you can always depend on me.”

We sat in quiet for a minute, our fingers still interlaced, and the air seemed heavy with unspoken words.

Ethan took a big breath as he turned around to face me, his eyes exploring my face as if attempting to judge my response.

"Sophie...I..." he continued, his voice quiet. "Don't you think we should...go out? Officially?"

My heart skipped a beat at his words.

"Since you are divorced, can I pursue you?"Ethan leaned forward, his face sincere.

"I mean, like...on a date. Just you and me. No more 'hanging out' or anything. An real, official date."

He stopped, allowing me a minute to comprehend his remarks.

I swallowed hard, the knots in my gut twisting harder. "Ethan, I...I'm not sure I'm ready for that.”

Ethan's hand had slipped from my own, his fingers delicately tracing the curve of my jaw, his eyes riveted upon mine. His lips, so near to mine, were barely parted, his breath mixing with mine.

I could feel the heat of his body, the intensity of his stare.

"Soph, I...I know there's a link between us. I'm sure you feel it too."

His words hovered in the air, a subtle cry for understanding.

"Why don't we...why don't we try it?" He murmured, looking at me.

My heartbeat sped and thumped fiercely in my chest.

But the doorbell rang, its sound cutting over the heavy atmosphere before I could respond.

Ethan swiftly pulled back, the anger in his eyes dimming as he recovered his control.

I could feel my cheeks burning as I turned away, the air between us suddenly packed with unsaid tension.

"Oh, hey Maya!" Ethan yelled out when the front door opened, the sound of Maya's happy voice filling the room.

"Did I interrupt something?" she inquired, grinning at me as she went inside.

Ethan laughed, attempting to play it off. "Just a friendly chat," he added, his grin somewhat strained.

Maya lifted an eyebrow at Ethan's statement, her gaze moving between us. "Uh huh. A 'friendly' talk. Sure."

I rolled my eyes at Maya's mocking. "It's not what you think, Maya," I emphasized. "We were just talking."

Maya gave me a knowing glance. "Whatever you say, Soph. So, what's this about packing? You moving out or something?"

"No," I responded, motioning at the jumble of boxes. "It's about my dad's gala thing I told you yesterday”

"Well, I didn't realize you'd be leaving soon," Maya remarked, gazing at her watch. "I was just going to chill out here for a bit, maybe nap on your couch or something."

Ethan cleared his throat, pulling our attention back to him. "If Sophie's got a busy day ahead, maybe I can take you out for some lunch, Maya?" he offered, his gaze moving towards me.

Maya’s face brightened up. "Oh, I'm always up for a free meal. And hey, I'll even let you select the place.”

As Ethan and Maya rose up to depart, Maya flashed me a cheeky wink.

As the door closed behind them, the stillness in the flat seemed to accentuate the tangle of ideas pouring in my head.

Ethan’s comments remained, refusing to be put away.

A date. An actual date. It shouldn’t have been such a huge issue, but it was.

The reality was, I hadn’t gone on a proper date since Liam.

I wasn’t even sure I knew how to anymore. And as much as I admired Ethan..his generosity, his warmth..there was still a part of me that was caught in the past, chained to memories of a guy who had never truly been mine.

I groaned, running a hand through my hair as I slid back into the sofa.

What was I doing? Why was I still letting Liam rule so much of my life, even now?

I grabbed the closest article of clothes and shoved it into the luggage, fury rising up within me.

I wanted to break free of him, to go on, but every stride forward seemed to be greeted by an unseen barrier, a reminder of what I had lost.. or maybe, never truly had.

The sound of my phone vibrating again took me from my thoughts.

I grabbed for it, halfexpecting another message from Ethan. Instead, it was a notice from my calendar..a reminder about the gala.

I moaned inwardly. The gala.

Another function where I’d have to put on a brave face, smile at people who knew nothing about the anguish within me, and pretend that everything was just perfect.

I arrived at the Imperial Towers.

The Gabsons owned this enormous, opulent building in the center of New York.

The structure was a shining example of contemporary design, its glass exterior reflecting the activity of the city below.

In essence, it was the type of location that was only affordable for the wealthy.

I had a sudden wave of fear as soon as I got out of my vehicle.

I was with Liam when I was last here, and we were both living in our own ignorant bubbles. Those were better days.

My pulse raced at the notion of entering that building and realizing he may be just a