---- Chapter 11 11 Liam stared at the CCTV footage, a loop of Maya walking away. She knew. She must have known everything. For weeks. Months, even. All those times he'd lied, all those clandestine meetings with Ava. Maya had been watching, observing, planning. His stomach twisted with a fresh wave of nausea. He remembered her quiet smiles, her withdrawn silences. He'd dismissed it as moods, as her being "sensitive." He'd been a fool. A blind, arrogant fool. He thought of her parents' bitter divorce, the infidelity that had scarred her. He had sworn to her, on their wedding day, that he would never put her through that. "| can forgive many things, Liam, but not deceit." Her words echoed in his mind, a relentless torment. He replayed their entire relationship. Her initial reluctance, her fear of being hurt. His persistent pursuit, his grand gestures, the kidney donation, the rare book. He had worn her down, convinced her of his sincerity. ---- And then, he had betrayed that hard-won trust in the most careless, cruel way imaginable. Why? The thrill of the new? Ava's youth, her blatant admiration? The influence of Marc and his other friends, with their cynical views on monogamy, their endless parade of mistresses? "Men like us, Liam, we operate by different rules." Marc's voice, insidious, enabling. Or was it just boredom? Complacency? Had he taken Maya for granted, so sure of her love, so confident in his ability to manage his double life? He had believed his own hype. Believed he was untouchable. He had thought he could have it all. His perfect wife, his exciting affair. He saw now, with horrifying clarity, that he had chosen. And he had chosen ruin. Maya's strength, her quiet determination - he had always admired it. Now, it was turned against him, a formidable weapon. She wasn't the type for tearful confrontations, for screaming matches. Her parents' divorce had been a public circus. She would never repeat that. She had warned him, and when he broke his vow, she acted. Cleanly. Decisively. Irreparably. Vanished. ---- He understood now. She hadn't just left to punish him. She had left to save herself. To reclaim her identity, her peace. Far from him, far from the life he had poisoned. And she had planned it so he couldn't stop her. So he couldn't find her, plead, manipulate his way back in. "No," he whispered, a defiant rage building amidst the despair. "| will find you, Maya. | will make this right. | won't let you go." But even as he said it, a cold dread told him it was already too late.