3
I didn’t speak. He launched into an immediate tirade. “This is what you’re eating?”
I checked my phone. A text from Liam thirty
minutes earlier: “Cook dinner.” Two words,
an order.
I was about to tell him he couldn’t eat the
noodles when I saw him happily devouring his
own meal at the kitchen table.
His expensive suit and watch, juxtaposed with
the cheap takeout container, looked comical.
I’d forgotten. He could eat it. I was just so
worried about him, I’d become hyper–vigilant.
Liam finished his meal just as I took out our
matching mugs.
He glanced up, disgust on his face. “What is
this? It’s hideous. Don’t tell me you expect
me to use that.”
L
“I agree. It’s disgusting,” I said, tossing the
mugs in the trash, right in front of him.
This rotten relationship, too, was going in the
trash.
Liam clearly didn’t expect my response. He
realized, finally, that I was angry.
He strode towards me, wrapping his arms
around my waist, burying his face in my neck.
Like a koala.
Normally, I’d respond, but my hand remained
frozen.
His touch sent shivers down my spine. The
memory of him and Bethany flashed in my
mind, and I felt nauseous again.
I straightened, pulling away. He sensed my
resistance; his tenderness vanished, replaced
by annoyance.
“Kara, don’t be mad. I really had to go. Look,
I got you a gift.” He held up a butterfly
necklace, diamonds glittering under the light.
Except, a few diamonds were missing from
one wing.
I’d seen it on Bethany’s social media.
Her post about her fiancé giving her a “tacky”
butterfly necklace that she threw away; he
then bought her a replacement. The caption
was dripping with smugness.
The photos showed the necklace, perfect,
then discarded in a garbage can.
Liam had retrieved it for me.
He stared at my face. “You’ve been crying?”
I was caught off guard. He pointed to my red,
swollen eyes.
“I was packing, and my eyes got irritated.”
A lame excuse, but I knew Liam wouldn’t
care.
I picked up a matching towel, trying to diffuse the tension. “This towel is ugly too, right?
Let’s throw it out.”
It was pink and blue, embroidered with
cartoon versions of us- a design I’d spent
weeks sourcing.
My subtle resistance seemed to unsettle
Liam. He agreed quietly. “It is pretty ugly.”
Every item in the house was meticulously
chosen, but the effort was wasted, a burden.
Liam frowned, sensing something was off. He kept studying me, then his eyes landed on my
suitcase.
