, replaying his words, his touch, his lies. Was it all an act? The twenty years of friendship, the promises, the lov

my door with a bouquet of my f

se some cheering up," he said, hi

g against his. I forced a small smile.

that you're here alone," he said, his voice laced with that practi

nd, the old Ava, the one who loved him more than anything, wanted to believe him. But

almost beautiful. It was an a

putting the lilies in a vase. "

came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. "Let's g

y body tense. I felt like a trait

about forgetting some important files at the office and left him in my a

told her everything, she didn't say "I told you so," even though she'd

s showed hundreds of calls and texts between Liam and Clara, going back over two years. Hotel r

Clara's public profile on the city's architecture board. I stared at her bio, a

ame as mine.

ere they for me? Or were they for her? The rare first-edition book on modernist architecture, the vin

nd numb. Liam was still there, wat

our files?" he

knew. "Liam," I said, my voice quiet,

used. "Tell yo

y heart pounding. "Anythi

his. "Ava, I know you've been distant. If this is about me working too much,

e unwavering, and swore on his life. The

me. The last remnants of my l

lling my hands awa

aw the truth. I saw everythi