Chapter 2

The next morning, the sunlight streaming through the window felt harsh and unforgiving. Liam watched Olivia as she moved around the kitchen, humming a cheerful tune while making coffee. Every little thing about her that he used to find endearing now seemed like a carefully constructed performance.

"Morning, sleepyhead," she said, turning with a bright smile. She was wearing one of his old t-shirts, a sight that used to make his heart ache with affection. Now, it just looked like a costume.

"Morning," he replied, his voice flat. He studied the way her eyes didn't quite meet his, the slight flicker of something hidden behind her smile.

He decided to test the waters. "So, who's Alex Reed?" he asked, trying to sound casual as he took the cup of coffee she offered.

Her body tensed for a fraction of a second, so quick he would have missed it if he wasn't looking for it. "Oh, Alex? Just a friend from back home. Why do you ask?" She busied herself with putting the milk away, her back to him.

"His name popped up on your phone last night," Liam said, watching her reflection in the microwave door. "A birthday reminder or something."

"Oh, right! His birthday is coming up," she said, her voice a little too high-pitched. "We've been friends forever. He's like a brother to me."

A brother. The words felt like acid in his ears. He had read the messages. He knew exactly what kind of "brother" Alex was to her. The lie was so effortless, so smooth. It made him sick.

Later that day, while Olivia was out shopping, Liam gave in to the gnawing suspicion and opened her laptop. It was a breach of privacy, a line he never thought he'd cross, but he had to know everything. He went straight to her social media accounts.

Her public profile was a gallery of their life together-smiling pictures at the park, cozy dinners, trips they had taken. It was the perfect picture of a happy couple. But then he found it: a second, private account. The username was a combination of her name and Alex's.

The profile picture was of the two of them as teenagers, laughing into the camera. The feed was a shrine to Alex. There were old photos, inside jokes, and posts counting down the days to his birthday. One post from a few weeks ago stood out. It was a picture of a single, perfect rose. The caption read: "He remembered. Seven years, and he still remembered. Some things are just meant to be. #meanttobe #truelove"

Liam's mind reeled. Seven years. They had been together for seven years. Was she talking about him? No, it couldn't be. The post was on her secret account dedicated to Alex. She was celebrating an anniversary with another man, while living with him. The irony was a bitter pill to swallow. She was building a fantasy life with Alex online while living a real, tangible lie with him.

He felt a wave of self-loathing. He had been so blind, so wrapped up in his own love for her that he had missed everything. He had believed her "I love yous," cherished her smiles, and planned a future with a woman who saw him as nothing more than a temporary convenience.

That evening, Olivia came home, flushed and excited, holding up a new dress. "What do you think? For my birthday next week. It's my big 3-0, you know."

Liam stared at her. Her birthday. He had completely forgotten. In the haze of his discovery and heartbreak, it had slipped his mind. The realization hit him hard. Just yesterday, he would have been racked with guilt for forgetting such an important date. He would have scrambled to make it up to her, to plan something special.

But now, he just felt a profound sense of detachment. He knew she hadn't forgotten Alex's birthday. She was counting down the seconds to it. His own forgotten birthday seemed to perfectly summarize their entire relationship: a one-sided effort that she barely registered.

"It's nice," he said, his voice empty of the enthusiasm she expected.

"Just nice?" she pouted. "I thought you'd love it."

"I do," he said, forcing a smile. "You look beautiful." He remembered the elaborate dinner reservation he had made weeks ago at her favorite restaurant, the expensive necklace he had hidden in his closet, ready to be her gift. He had been so excited to celebrate her, to make her feel cherished.

The thought was now just a painful reminder of his own foolishness. All that effort, all that love, was for a woman who was emotionally already with someone else.

He looked at her, so happy and oblivious in her new dress, and a decision solidified in his mind. He would not cancel the reservation. He would not return the necklace. But he wouldn't be giving them to her either. He was done making an effort. He was done trying to please a woman who didn't deserve it. From this moment on, he was just going through the motions until he could finally walk away for good.