Chapter 3

3.

My stubbornness exhausted Liam's patience.

He was in a rush to get to a red carpet event in Los Angeles, so he dropped one sentence: "Calm down by yourself first."

That was his way of solving problems: leaving me to deal with my emotions alone.

A few days later, I signed a contract to transfer my shop.

"Chloe, your flower shop in SoHo is doing so well, why are you quitting?"

"Because I'm leaving New York."

Liam and I were both Southerners, from Savannah, Georgia.

Years ago, for his acting dream, we traveled north to New York.

At first, we were poor. We lived in a semi-basement in Brooklyn where the window was only half above ground. Pedestrians' shoes were constantly flashing through our field of view.

Winter in New York was bone-chilling. That old radiator short-circuited and caught fire in the middle of the night. Liam borrowed a friend's car and drove five hours through a snowstorm from the set to get back to me.

That day, he held me, crying like a child.

"Chloe, I’m useless right now. But I’ll be famous. I’ll make lots and lots of money, and we’ll buy a big house right next to Central Park!"

I couldn't help it.

I was someone with extreme anxiety regarding intimate relationships.

And Liam happened to be an actor.

His job required filming many intimate scenes, stuffing his soul into another identity, and imagining falling in love with others as the character.

Once, he filmed an intense make-out scene with an actress.

It was the scene where the male and female leads' emotions reached their peak.

The two kissed until they were crying, unable to stop hugging and kissing even after the director yelled "Cut."

In the end, they both fell onto the bed, bodies pressed together, tearing at each other's clothes.

The parts after that weren't in the script.

It was a subconscious reaction after true feelings spilled over.

The director couldn't stop clapping. "Good! That addition was great. Looks like real emotion."

Coincidentally, that day was Liam's birthday, and I had come specifically with a gift to find him.

Honestly, seeing that scene made me feel sick.

But there was nothing I could do.

It was his job.

Even getting angry made me look unreasonable.

My lack of security made me anxious and sensitive.

While Liam was showering, I checked his phone.

I got caught.

He was furious.

"Chloe, are you sick? Don't you have your own things to do?"

Liam questioned me like that, seeming to forget that he was the one who coaxed me into quitting my job to come here, saying he just liked having me by his side and wanted to take care of me forever.

Seven years had passed. His career was climbing step by step, but our love was like that old radiator―completely broken.

To relieve my anxiety, I opened that flower shop.

I used it to stop myself from thinking: Who is Liam kissing today? Do those intimate scenes make him feel something?