End of a beginning

Amelia's heart hammered against her chest, each beat thumping loud, as if it was going to jump out of her chest. Her footsteps slowed as she approached Liam's room, a sudden, inexplicable feeling of horror cursing through her body. The closer she got, the more the chaotic mess of clothes on the floor caught her eye, feminine clothes, lingeries, heels, purse, thrown carelessly, all of them leading her to one door— Liam's room.

Her breath hitched, as she stopped in her tracks, her mind racing wildly. No. This can't be happening.

Liam had been working late for days, as there was much work in the company, and he drowned himself in his business. He shouldn't be home yet, he was supposed to be in the office right now, she thought. She had planned this evening so carefully, wanting it to be perfect for him, for them, after all it was both their anniversary and his birthday. She had wanted to surprise him with a special night, to show him how much she cared, how much she loved and appreciated the little time they'd spent together.

But now, everything was smashing and crumbling before her eyes.

She moved quickly, unable to stop herself, prompted by a mixture of confusion and an unshakable feeling in the pit of her stomach. The air was thick, the room closing in, as the sounds grew louder — a mixture of heavy breath and moans, unmistakable and too familiar to ignore.

“Babe, you love going hard on me..” a familiar voice said, followed by a giggle.

“Who asked you to be too sweet, hmm?” Another familiar voice followed, his voice unmistakable.

Liam? Amelia clutched her chest, pausing in her tracks.

“What if she finds out about us? Will you tell her the truth?”

“Not yet, I still need to get her to sign the documents, after that, I'll dump her. I don't love her a bit, she's not as beautiful as you are, you give me what I want.” He chuckled.

Amelia's legs felt wobbly, as she couldn't believe what she just heard, not being able to hold it anymore, she quickly reached for the doorknob. It turned effortlessly, and she opened the door, it felt like the ground beneath her gave away.

There, on the bed, with the room shrouded in a haze of intimacy, were Liam and her step sister, Valencia.

Liam, the man she had been dating for three years, the man who had promised her forever, was with her sister. Her own step sister, even when knowing their relationship wasn't good. Amelia's breath caught in her throat, her entire body trembling as she stood frozen in the doorway. She stared, unable to comprehend the scene, as the image in front of her didn't make sense. Liam was on top of Valencia, kissing her with a passion that made her stomach churn. The sight of them so entwined, the sounds of their breathless whisper, shattered all her reality.

She clutched her chest tightly, her heart twisting painful like she was being poked by thousands of invisible needles.

“Liam?” She called, her voice barely a whisper, raw with disbelief.

Their movements stopped for a second and they turned their head towards the door. Amelia's face burning with anger, and tears brimming in her eyes as they threatened to fall. Her grip on the doorframe tightened as it felt like the only thing holding her upright.

Liam's eyes widened, his face momentarily blank, then a flicker of realization passed across his feature and he instantly pushed away from Valencia. He sat up straighter and ran his hands through his hair, in a futile way to regain composure.

“Amelia….it's not what you think,” he tried to defend, his voice strained but lacking the remorse Amelia had hoped for.

“Not what I think?” her voice broke, her breath catching in her throat, as she fought back her tears. “Y–you’re in bed with my sister…Liam, how could you?”

Valencia, still naked on the bed, looked up at Amelia, a sneer curling at the corner of her lips. “Amelia dear, he wouldn't have done this if you hadn't been so stingy with opening your legs for him. Liam is a man, he needed something more….real, right Liam?” She said, moving close to him.

Amelia hands clenched into fists, her nails digging deeply into her flesh, her chest tightening as the betrayal slammed into her with full force. Although her relationship with Valencia wasn't smooth, she couldn't believe she would go to this extent to hurt her.

“Liam, how could you do this to me, after everything?” She whispered, the pain in her chest almost unbearable.

“Amelia, believe me, it just…it was just a mistake.” he said, as though his words were rehearsed.

“A mistake?” Amelia choked out a laugh, a sound so humorless and bitter. “A mistake? Are you telling me you didn't know what you were doing? You've been sleeping with her, and this is just a mistake?”

Liam's face flushed but his gaze hardened. “I didn't mean it hurt you, Amelia. But I needed more than what you gave me, I needed sex. Come on, I can't be satisfied with only kisses and hugs, I have desires like this too and you can't fulfill them.”

Amelia's heart shattered, his words didn't only hurt, his tone, the coldness in which he said the words. He didn't feel sorry, remorse or regret for what he'd done.

Her tears fell, but she quickly wiped them away and turned away, her throat closing up, and her body still shaky from grief. There were no more words, she felt like she was losing everything, her love, her trust, her future. Without another glance at them, Amelia turned on her heels and fled the room, her sobs echoing in the empty hallway.

Outside the building, the world seemed distant and cold. The pain was unbearable and searing through her chest, she could feel her knees threatening to give out. She had thought Liam was her get-away, her redemption, the only one she could turn to when her family mistreated her, she even told him about Valencia, she had trusted him and this was his way of paying it back.

The sharp sting of betrayal continued to pierce her, as she wandered, unsure of where to go. Before she knew it, her feet had carried her to the nearest bar.

In a blur of a moment, Amelia found herself in a bar, the loud music, the intoxicating scent of alcohol and perfumes, strangely made her heart ache less. She needed to unwind, anything that could get her mind away from the incidents earlier and coming to the bar was what came to her mind.

“Whiskey,” she called out, her voice hoarse.

The man at the bar didn't ask any questions, he just poured her a drink, sliding it towards her with a flat glaze. She gulped it down in a go, ignoring the sharp burning sensation that traveled down her throat, which offered her a brief numbness.

She ordered another. And another.

As the alcohol clouded her thoughts, she got up about to leave when she stumbled, colliding into the man's chest—a wall of firm muscle beneath a perfectly denim jacket. Her fingers instinctively gripped his jacket, wrinkling the pristine fabric as she blinked up at him, her vision blurring.

“You’re too tall to be a bartender,” she mumbled, swaying slightly, her words slurring. “But you…you smell so divine, hmmmm”

The man’s sharp gaze flickered with faint amusement, though his expression remained impassive. “I’m not a bartender,” he said curtly, attempting to steady her before stepping back. “You’ve had too much. Let me call someone to—”

“No!” she interrupted, clutching at his arm as if letting go would break her. Her tear-streaked face turned up to him, her eyes a mix of defiance and despair. “Don’t push me away. Everyone always pushes me away.”

He froze at the raw emotion in her voice, his jaw tightening. He wasn’t the kind of man who entertained messy entanglements, and this woman reeked of complications. Yet something about her—a fragility buried under layers of pain and stubbornness—held him rooted in place.

Amelia leaned closer, her breath warm against his neck. “You smell so…nice,” she murmured, her fingers tightening on his sleeve. “Don’t go. Just…stay.”

“You don’t even know who I am,” he muttered, his voice a touch harsher than he intended. He tried again to peel her fingers away, but she only wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to meet his gaze. Her lips curled into a mischievous smile.

“And I don’t care,” she said, her voice soft yet teasing. “You’re here. Right now. That’s all I care about.”

The words struck a chord he didn’t want to acknowledge. He knew he should pull away, but her closeness—the warmth of her touch, the faint scent of vanilla lingering on her skin—was disarming. She wasn’t just drunk; she was broken. And somehow, her vulnerability chipped away at his carefully constructed walls.

“Listen,” he began, his voice rough, but before he could finish, her lips brushed his jaw, featherlight yet deliberate. His breath hitched, his hand instinctively moving to her waist to steady her.

“I bet you don’t kiss often,” she teased, her voice barely a whisper. “Too serious for fun, huh? But I could…change that.”

He clenched his jaw, fighting the pull she had on him. “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Maybe,” she admitted, her smile faltering for a moment before returning with a bittersweet edge. “But you’re the only thing tonight that doesn’t feel like it’s falling apart.”

That did it. Something inside him snapped.

Just for tonight, he told himself.

Against his better judgment, he closed the gap between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was far from gentle. Her gasp melted into a moan, her hands tangling in his hair as he pulled her closer, all his carefully honed restraint crumbling in the heat of the moment.