Chapter 21 #3
Liam starts pacing, running his hands through his hair, breathing too fast. “You’re all acting like I did something wrong,” he snaps, voice rising. “I had a plan. I always had a plan. She just… complicated it by not wanting the same things at the same time.”
“By not wanting kids at nineteen?” Olivia scoffs back. “How unreasonable of her.”
He whirls on her. “Don’t twist this!” he shouts. “She loves me. I know she does. And love means compromise. Love means you don’t just walk away when things get hard.”
Noah takes a step forward. “You don’t get to rewrite reality to justify what you did.”
Liam laughs, short, sharp, unhinged. “Reality?” he says. “Reality is I’m standing here, and she’s still mine. You all think you can decide for her? You think you know what she needs better than I do?”
His eyes flick toward the hallway, wild and searching, like he can feel my presence. “She just needs time. She’ll understand. She always does.”
“That’s enough,” Olivia says coldly. “You don’t love her. You want to own her.”
Liam’s jaw tightens. “I want what’s mine,” he mutters. “I want the life I was promised.”
The room goes dead silent.
And in that silence, the most terrifying thing becomes clear… he truly believes he’s the victim.
I think that confession is what killed me the most. Knots arise in my stomach and I feel my chest and face heat with anger. “Get out.”
My voice cuts through the room like a blade as I step fully into view. “Get out of our house, Liam.”
Every head snaps toward me. The air goes dead still.
Liam’s face crumples the moment he sees me, panic, obsession, desperation all colliding. He takes a step forward instinctively. “Please,” he begs, voice breaking, “just let me explain. You don’t understand… I can fix this. We can fix this.”
“No!” I snap, taking a step closer, my voice hard and final. “There is nothing to explain. There is no we. You are not fixing anything. You are not part of my life anymore. Get out… now.”
Liam freezes, his eyes wild, pupils blown, like he can’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. His hands twitch at his sides as if he wants to grab me, but he knows instinctively he can’t.
“Isabel…” he starts, voice pleading, low and dangerous. “You don’t understand –”
“I understand perfectly,” I cut him off, my chest rising with controlled fury. “I understand that you are dangerous, selfish, and incapable of love. And I understand that I am not yours to take or own.”
His face twists, rage and panic mixing in a terrifying mask. He takes a step forward, then stops, almost laughing like the world has betrayed him. “You’ll see,” he hisses. "You'll come back. You always do.”
I raise my chin, meeting his gaze without flinching. “Not this time. Not ever. Leave. Or I'll call the police.”
For the first time, the manic energy in him falters. He glares at me, lips pressed tight, then slowly turns and stalks toward the door, muttering threats under his breath.
“And you know, my biggest regret wasn’t falling for you.
It was thinking that you truly fell for me too.
And you want to know the sad part of all of this?
I forgive you, even though I know if our roles were reversed you wouldn’t forgive me.
That is what gives me the strength to not cry a single fucking tear for you.
To know that I am the bigger person and that I know I gave our relationship my all, and it still somehow wasn’t enough for you.
This is not a me problem, this is a you problem.
I’ll be okay at the end of this, but I’m not so sure you will.
And honestly, the fucked up part is I get hurt whether I stay or leave, so I am choosing to leave ” I walked back into the bedroom, with my head held high because I know that I will be okay.
The door slams behind him, and silence floods the room. My hands are shaking, my heart racing, but I am standing. I am free.
The silence after the door slams is almost deafening. I sink onto the couch, my body trembling, heart hammering so hard it hurts. My hands are still shaking, and every inch of me feels raw, exposed, but I am alive, and he’s gone.
Oliver kneels in front of me, hands warm on my shoulders. “You’re okay. You’re safe. He’s gone,” he says softly. His calm steadiness seeps into me like sunlight through a storm.
Olivia crouches beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, pressing my head against her chest. “You did that. You stood up to him. You told him no,” she whispers. “That’s brave, Bella. So damn brave.”
I take a shaky breath, letting it out slowly. “I… I can’t believe it’s over,” I admit, tears welling again not from fear this time, but from relief. From the weight of finally letting go. “I actually told him to leave. And he listened. He actually left.”
“Because you deserve better,” Noah says, voice steady, grounding me. “Because you’re not a possession. You’re not anyone’s property. You’re you. And you’re enough.”
I finally let myself lean back, letting my body relax for the first time in hours. The adrenaline, the fear, the rage, it starts to drain away. I let my friends hold me, let them anchor me. The storm has passed, and for the first time in a long time, I can breathe.