Sierra's POV
Was I really just the thief standing between him and Veronica, stealing the happiness that should’ve been theirs?
I broke down. I screamed, I lost control, I completely fell apart.
Refusing to accept any of it, I smashed everything in the house. I clawed at Liam’s face until it bled.
Yet he didn’t move. He just stood there and let me unleash all of my rage.
But before my anger had even burned out, his phone buzzed again.
It was a new message.
A 5 a.m. plane ticket and pregnancy report.
Then came Veronica’s shaky and miserable voice, echoing through the dead-silent night again and again.
“Liam, I don’t want to pressure you, but I’m pregnant. I’m right next door. I need you to choose between us. I’m not like Sierra. I have nothing. If you don’t come talk to me when the sun comes up, I’ll die with this baby in front of you.”
The man who was always calm panicked.
The same Liam, who never wavered at my questions, who showed no reaction to my tears, suddenly lost all reason when it came to Veronica.
And just like that, he rushed to her.
I slumped against the wall, exhausted and hollow, and whispered, “Liam, if you walk out that door today, there will never be a way back for us.”
There, he stopped, but only for a second. Then he walked out without even looking back.
The driver grimaced, lit a cigarette, then, remembering my condition, quickly put it out. He sighed helplessly and remarked, “You can never predict people’s hearts.”
He was right. People were unpredictable, and fate was even more so.
If the story had ended there, then at worst, it would’ve been a breakup. Painful, yes, but after some crying, after enough time, I would’ve healed.
But that night, fate played the cruelest joke on me.
I called my dad and told him Liam had hurt me, that I couldn’t stay anymore, that I wanted to come back home, back to them.
My dad panicked. He got in the car immediately, driving through the night to pick me up.
But the snowstorm was too heavy. The mountain roads were too dangerous.
And on the way to me, he crashed.
The car was destroyed, and my dad died on the spot.
Just how unfair this world was.
A man as cold and faithless as Liam got to live, yet the person who loved me the most was taken away.
By the time I got the call and rushed to the scene, all that was left was a body covered in a white sheet, waiting to be pushed into the cremation chamber.
They told me his injuries were too horrible, so they didn’t want me to see him. They simply advised me to stay strong.
But he was my father. The man who loved me, protected me, and put me first for my entire life.
How could I ever be afraid of him?
Ignoring their advice, I tore away the sheet.
But what I saw wasn’t even a face, just blood and ruined flesh. No features left. Even the skull was shattered beyond recognition.
I couldn't describe what I felt then. It was like my mind slipped out of my body as if I drifted into a world far, far away, a world where there was no pain, no death, no betrayal, no tears.
Later, I went to see a psychologist. He told me I was experiencing dissociation, a severe psychological condition. He suggested I get treatment as soon as possible.
But my mother fell apart before I could even take care of myself.
My father’s death broke her completely. She became unrecognizable— confused, unstable.
The gentle, graceful woman she used to be had lost control whenever she saw me now. She hit me. She cursed me. She spat on my face.
Once, she cried and screamed at me.
