Chapter 3 The Truth Comes Out

LIA'S POV

The morning of the family dinner, I woke up with a feeling of dread so heavy it was hard to breathe. Chloe had been calling and texting for two days straight. I had ignored every single one. I didn't know what to say. How do you tell your little sister you married her fiancé first?

Liam texted at noon: "Car at 5:30. Wear something simple. We present a united front."

I didn't reply. I spent the day cleaning my tiny apartment over the café, trying to keep my hands busy. I scrubbed the already-clean counters and rearranged the books on my shelf. Nothing helped.

At 5:15, I put on a simple blue dress. I didn't wear the necklace. I left it in its box on the bed, the tiny "L & L" hidden away.

The same black car picked me up. Liam was inside, scrolling through his phone. He looked up when I got in. His eyes scanned my empty neckline, but he said nothing.

"Have you spoken to Chloe?" he asked as the car pulled away.

"No," I said, looking out the window. "You?"

"She's confused. Hurt. She deserves the truth from us, together."

"And what is the truth, Liam?" I finally turned to look at him. "The version where we're giving things a second chance? That's the lie we're selling, right?"

His expression was unreadable. "It's the story that causes the least damage."

"To who? To you?"

"To everyone," he said, his voice low. "Including you."

We didn't speak the rest of the way. My parents live in the same house we grew up in. The sight of the porch light, the tidy garden, usually filled me with comfort. Tonight, it felt like the entrance to a courtroom.

We could hear voices from inside—my dad's laugh, my mom's cheerful tone. Liam's hand found mine as we walked to the door. His grip was firm, almost reassuring. It was an act, I reminded myself. All of it was an act.

"Ready?" he asked, his thumb brushing over my knuckles for just a second.

"No."

He rang the bell.

My mom opened the door, her smile bright until she saw our joined hands. Her eyes widened. "Lia? Liam? What's going on?"

Chloe appeared behind her. Her face was pale, her eyes red. She had been crying.

"Hi Mom," I said, my voice thin. "Can we come in?"

We all moved into the living room, an awkward parade. My dad stood up from his chair, his friendly smile fading as he felt the tension in the room.

"What's all this?" he asked, looking from me to Liam to Chloe.

Liam took a small breath. He was the picture of calm. "There's something we need to tell you all. Something important about Lia and me."

Chloe crossed her arms, looking at the floor. She already knew.

"Five years ago," Liam began, his voice clear and steady, "Lia and I met in college. We fell in love quickly. Impulsively. We eloped."

My mother gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. My father just stared, stunned.

"It was a secret," I added, forcing the words out. "We were young. We didn't tell anyone."

"Why?" my dad asked, his voice thick with confusion.

"Because we knew it was a mistake," Liam said, and the way he said it—so flat, so final—made my heart clench. "We were different people. We wanted different things. After a year, we separated. Lia left."

He made it sound so simple, so clinical. He left out the fights, the tears, the night I told him I couldn't do it anymore and his shattered expression. He left out the love that had been real, before it curdled into something else.

"I never stopped loving him," I said quietly. The line felt strange in my mouth, but it was part of the script. "And when we reconnected recently… we realized we wanted to try again. To do it right this time."

The room was silent. My mom looked devastated. My dad looked lost.

Chloe finally looked up, her eyes brimming with fresh tears. "And what about me, Liam?" Her voice shook. "You asked me to marry you. You said I was your future. Was that a lie?"

Liam let go of my hand and took a step toward Chloe. "No, Chloe. What I feel for you is real. But my past with Lia… it's complicated. I should have told you. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" she whispered. "You let me fall in love with you while you were still married to my sister?"

"We've been legally separated for years," Liam said. "The divorce was final a long time ago."

This was news to me. He’d never mentioned finalizing it. I guess he’d been busy building his empire.

"So what happens now?" my dad asked, his voice weary. "What does this mean?"

"It means," Liam said, turning to include everyone, "that Lia and I are going to take some time. We're going to live together, to see if this can work. To see if our second chance is real."

"Live together?" my mom echoed, horrified.

"It's the only way to know," I said, repeating the lines we'd unspoken but agreed upon. "We owe it to ourselves."

Chloe let out a broken sound. "I can't believe this. I can't be here."

She turned and ran up the stairs. A second later, her bedroom door slammed.

The sound seemed to break the spell. My mom started crying quietly. My dad put his arm around her, looking at Liam with a new, cold anger.

"I think you should both leave," my dad said, his voice low. "You've dropped a bomb on this family. We need time."

Liam simply nodded. "I understand. Thank you for hearing us out."

He took my elbow and guided me toward the door. I felt numb. We had done it. We had told the story. We had broken my sister's heart and my parents' trust.

Outside in the cool night air, I pulled away from him.

"Divorced?" I asked. "You never told me it was final."

"Does it matter?" he asked, opening the car door for me.

"Yes. It matters."

He waited until the car started moving before he spoke again, his voice quiet in the dark backseat.

"The papers were signed four years ago. I kept the last box of your things. I thought about sending it to you a hundred times."

I remembered that box. Old t-shirts, a favorite mug, a photo album. I had left it all behind.

"Why didn't you?"

"Because sending it would mean it was really over," he said, looking straight ahead. "And some part of me wasn't ready to admit that. Not until I saw you again and realized the woman who left me was gone. Now I'm just dealing with the stranger who took her place."

The words were meant to hurt, and they did. I looked out the window at the passing streetlights, blinking back hot tears.

The car didn't take me home. It pulled up to a tall, modern building downtown—a luxury condominium with a doorman.

"Where are we?"

"My place," Liam said, getting out. "The contract states cohabitation. This is where we live together now. Your things from the café will be brought here tomorrow."

I sat frozen in the seat. This was moving too fast.

He leaned back into the car. His face was shadowed. "This is the deal, Lia. You signed it. You don't get to run away this time."

I had no choice. I got out of the car and followed him into the gleaming lobby, into the elevator, up to the 25th floor. His apartment was what I expected—all cool colors, expensive art, and a stunning view of the city. It was beautiful and completely soulless.

He showed me to a guest room. It was pristine, like a hotel.

"Get some sleep," he said from the doorway. "Tomorrow, we start our new life. Such as it is."

He closed the door softly behind him.

I stood in the middle of the quiet, unfamiliar room, hugging myself. Down the hall was the man I had loved and left, the man who was now my jailer. Downstairs, my family was in pieces. And my sister, my bright, happy sister, was upstairs in her old bedroom, crying over the same man.

This wasn't a second chance. This was a sentence. And I had no one to blame but myself.