Chapter 2

02.

I went upstairs and started packing my things.

As I looked around the room, I realized how little I actually owned.

It was pathetic. Seven years together, yet almost nothing in this house was truly mine except my passport and some legal papers.

The closet was full of clothes she had bought for me.

But the style was never mine, and the fit was always slightly off.

Even the tuxedo custom-made for the wedding was a size too small in the shoulders.

The signs were everywhere; I was just too blinded by love to see them.

How do you spend seven years with someone and not know their size?

You don't. Unless your heart is occupied by a ghost.

Wynn Dalton, the man who died ten years ago, was still living in our bedroom.

I took a deep breath, trying to shove the pain down. My phone buzzed. It was Maeve Quinn, the CEO of my firm.

"Liam, have you made up your mind? Are you really turning down the Dubai assignment?"

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime career move. The company is expanding, and I need my best man on the ground. If you land this project..."

"Maeve, stop. I'll go."

I cut her off before she could finish. There was a long silence on the other end.

"Are you sure, Liam?" Maeve asked, her voice cautious.

"This isn't a game. The overseas project is ready to launch. If you get there and tell me you want to come back for Stella..."

"I won't. I'm certain."

Maeve had always trusted my work ethic. Hearing the finality in my voice, she didn't push further.

"Fine. I like that grit. When can you leave?"

"Tomorrow."

She didn't waste time. Within minutes, her assistant sent me the flight confirmation for a one-way ticket to Dubai.

Looking at the screen, I knew the seven-year chapter of my life was officially closed.

I zipped my suitcase and headed for the door. Stella was standing there, blocking the exit.

She saw the suitcase, and for a second, panic flickered in her eyes. She reached out to grab the handle.

"Where are you going?"

"A business trip," I said shortly.

She visibly relaxed. Clearly, she hadn't taken our earlier argument seriously.

She walked over and wrapped her arms around my neck, pouting like she always did when she wanted her way.

"Babe, I'm sorry. I was just overwhelmed today. The wedding was too much, so I postponed it. We can do it another time."

"You know how it is. I'm a public figure. My new album is dropping, and if people see photos of me looking a mess, it'll ruin the launch."

I wondered if she was worried about the launch or protecting the memory of her perfect Wynn.

I thought my heart would ache, but there was nothing. Just a hollow numbness.

I pulled her hands off me and gave her a flat, "Okay."

Her expression brightened instantly. She thought she had won.

She pulled out a glossy envelope and held it up to my face.

"The paparazzi caught some of the drama today. My manager wants me to do a reality show to fix my image."

"I signed you up too. We'll play the perfect couple, show some PDA, and then announce our marriage. It'll be great for PR, right?"

I glanced at the invitation. It was a high-intensity endurance show involving extreme stunts.

I have a congenital heart condition. I can't do things like that.