Chapter 2

Liam didn't call until the middle of the night. I was still sifting through shooting material then.

I glanced at my phone on the side, pressed the mute button, and had no intention of answering.

Immediately, a flurry of messages popped up.

"Why aren't you home yet?"

"Where did you go?"

"The flowers I specially picked for you are wilting, where are you? Didn't you say you liked the flowers I gave you?"

Did I need flowers as an apology after the fact?

I turned off the screen, a self-deprecating smirk playing on my lips.

He was always like this: hit me, then offer a sweet treat.

In the past, deeply in love with him, I never saw anything wrong with his behavior. I even rationalized it, convincing myself he truly cared about me.

But now, I was clear-headed. I knew he was just stringing me along.

I was leaving.

In this world, no one is indispensable. Not me, and not Liam.

…

I pulled an all-nighter that day, organizing my portfolio, then slept soundly until three in the afternoon the next day.

I went to my former studio to handle my resignation handover and saw Liam sitting at my old desk, deep in thought.

I wasn't surprised he found me here.

After all, besides home and here, where else would I go?

Hearing footsteps, he turned and saw me.

"What happened last night? You didn't answer your calls, didn't reply to my messages. I thought something terrible had happened to you!"

I cleared my throat, my voice flat. "I went to bed early."

Liam froze, then frowned. He looked at me, puzzled. "What's wrong with you? Why are you so quiet today?"

He was right. In the past, seeing him show up on his own, I would have been overjoyed, practically bouncing off the walls, eager to tell him every little detail of my day.

But now, all I had was silence, so it was natural for him to find it strange.

And he seemed to have forgotten that I'd already broken up with him yesterday. He certainly wouldn't remember how he'd publicly humiliated me.

Before I could interject, he spoke again: "Today marks Harper's third anniversary in our photography circle. She's hosting, let's go together."

I wanted to make an excuse to decline, but as an insider, my absence might lead to unnecessary speculation.

Besides, I wanted a chance to tell everyone that Liam and I were over.

I simply hummed in agreement, stood up, straightened my clothes, and followed him to the hotel.

When we arrived, I realized it wasn't just Harper's friends who were there.

There was a large crowd of Harper's photography fans.

More than a celebration of Harper's three-year anniversary, it felt like a fan meet-and-greet.

I hadn't even entered the door yet, but I could already hear the clamor from the banquet hall.

I instinctively looked for Liam, but he was already gone.

"Looking for Liam? I'll take you."

Ryan, Liam's friend, appeared out of nowhere, leading me straight to a private room on the second floor.

Looking down, Liam's figure appeared on the stage.

He was pushing a giant cake, holding a string of pink and white balloons, making a surprise appearance for Harper.

Below, fans screamed, shouting for them to get married on the spot, even calling Liam "brother-in-law."

Ryan raised an eyebrow at me, then pointed to the two on stage: "See? Don't they make a perfect couple?"

A bitter taste filled my throat.

Yes, they did. A perfect match.