"You're finally back," Liam says in a very disturbing tone of voice as I walk in. "Is it true?"

"What is?" Not knowing how to answer right away, I feign ignorance of the subject.

Wrong move, I'm fully aware, but my intelligence seems limited at the moment. I'm sure he's talking about my visit at the precinct. He must've learned everything by now. Slowly, I pace towards the couch, avoiding eye contact with him, and drop my handbag on the table.

"I told you I'd tell you everything when I come back. And here I am, Liam." I stand up straight, staring at him.

Liam strides over and seizes my slender arms into a tight grip. "Did you drop the charges against that bastard?" His voice is shockingly harsh, his burning gaze aflame.

"I . . . No." A deep frown appears on my face. "I only gave my full statement and—"

Yes, I technically dropped the charges.

Seeing my face and hesitation, Liam discerns the situation and slowly releases me from his grip, looking so disappointed. It breaks my heart because he's the only one who knows my story with Jeremy.

"I can't believe this," he mutters in a gentle yet pissed off voice. He looks betrayed and hurt. "So you sneaked out while I was still asleep, left me a senseless note and went all the way to the station—"

"Let me explain, Liam," I interrupt him urgently. "I have a reason to do what I did, trust me." I look at him imploringly, hoping to make him understand me somehow.

"What is it, Kira? What's so important for you to let that imbecile out of where he deserves to be?" he yells.

I close my eyes to let the echoes of his voice dissipate.

"Liam, I know you're angry, but if you give me a chance, I'll explain everything. You don't need to shout." I try to reason with him as calmly as possible, for I know it's my fault and I don't have the right to be angry.

"Then how do you expect me to react, Kira!" he thunders. A shrill of fear runs through me at the sight of his darkened eyes. "The man who took you by force, traumatized you, and even tried to hurt you again! If you saw yourself that night you'd understand how I feel right now. He deserves worse than being in a jail that you save him from, so don't tell me to calm down!"

"Liam, can you just hear me out before you say anything more?" I raise my voice just to make him see my desperation for his attention.

He gives me a stern look before sighing to reclaim his composure. I mirror his breath and some silence settles in as he takes a seat on the sofa. Eyes away from me, he rests his elbows on his knees, and his jaw tightens in an unusual fashion that makes me wary to even talk to him.

But we must talk for this to end.

I walk closer and squat in front of him. He stays still without looking at me, his breathing erratic. As adamant as I can be, I force my way into his gaze, urging him to look at me. He finally does, and it kills me to see the anger replacing the flames of passion I have been seeing lately.

"Liam, I didn't want to set him free, I swear," I start, my voice soft and guarded.

"But you did," Liam coolly remarks, staring at me directly in the eyes. I inhale sharply. "Sergeant Connor said that your new statement suggested he didn't want to harm you, isn't that the truth? And for that reason he's going to be released very soon and no justice will be served for what he did to you!"

It feels like a hot nail in my heart as he speaks of justice. Maybe I shouldn't have done what I did, but would it make me feel okay knowing I hid some crucial information about Jeremy's last visit here? I only did what I thought was right so I can't change the outcome—whatever it is.

"I'm sorry if it feels so wrong for me to tell the police what really happened. I'm the person who wanted him to pay so badly, Liam, but if I failed to do it at the time he committed the crime two years ago, do you think they'll punish him for it right now? Yeah, maybe if I lied and said he tried to rape me again then they would give him the sentence he deserves! But that didn't happen. And I believe he's sick—" I pause when Liam huffs a very wicked laugh.

"What did you say?" he asks crisply, and I feel a heavy pang on my chest.

He thinks I'm lying, doesn't he?

"You know what," Liam utters, his thumb rubbing his chin in thoughtfulness. "I'm starting to wonder what your relationship with him really is. I'm not sure what that bastard is to you."

"What do you mean?" I frown, my insides twitching at this weird feeling that I can't quite decipher.

Anger, rage, fear? What is he implying?

Liam paces closer to me and his fury has made him unrecognizable. "Could it be that you two had something and all that story about rape—"

"Shut up!" I land a heavy slap on his cheek. His eyes widen and I'm trembling with anger. "I know you're fucking angry but don't you dare disrespect me, Liam!"

He shuts his eyes tightly before he says, "I'm sorry, Kira. I really am, and that came out wrong. I'm going back to the hotel." He steps away from me and reaches for his car keys on the table.

What? Fear engulfs my every fiber when he edges away.

"You're leaving me?" I ask like a timid child, my heart thumping crazily, and I think I'm scared. "Are you, Liam?"

"Never," he replies.

"Liam—"

"Later, Kira. I don't want to do or say anything I may regret," he interrupts, freezing me in my tracks as I'm about to approach him. "I think I may have to leave Los Angeles by tomorrow, so I better start getting myself ready. It's office matters."

"What do you mean?" Horror spikes through me. "Are you going back to London?"

God, no. He's leaving.

He sighs heavily, giving me a concerned look for a change. "A friend of mine is hospitalized in New York, and I have business matters to attend over there. It hasn't been a good morning for a number of reasons. I'll call you later, Kira. It's best we take our time to process."

But I don't need any time. I have nothing to prove! I want to scream to his face but I may look clingy and it's the last image I want for myself.

"Okay. As you wish, Liam," I reply.

Maybe a break is what he needs, I decide.

After Liam's departure, I sit idly with the TV as my grand companion. Time seems to be going slowly. I do nothing; I just sit and wait, feeling no energy to do otherwise. And then it suddenly occurs to me, sometime later, that maybe I should just call him since it's been more than two hours already.

What if he decides it's over? I can't help but wonder.

I try to focus on the Tv. I've been hearing Daisy's annoying giggles in The Great Gatsby, and yet I don't even know which part I am. I love this movie, and the book too, but I still don't understand why Jay had to love that girl so much, like an idiot, that it cost his own life.

I think the story would've been better if it was depicted from Gatsby's point of view, right? Well, whatever. Tired of Gatsby's misfortune, I reach for my phone and call Doctor Snape. It's been a while and I think I need someone to talk to.

She answers right away and I find a smile of relief to hear her voice and all the jokes about my trip and the dream guy I met. I tell her about the new advancement in my nightmares, and she listens attentively as though we're once again on our therapy sessions.

"When did you have these advancements?" she asks softly, her grandma-like voice assuring.

"Um, just a few days ago after my return from Miami. I curl my legs up on the couch.

"Hmm, I see," she hums, and a soft sigh couples her breath. "Tell me more about the people you saw. Can you recognize any of them, Kira? Even vaguely?"

"Apart from Mom and Dad, there was a woman and his son," I reply truthfully. "But I don't think I recall their faces as I should. Not really."

When it hits eight I reach for a pair of old jeans, T-shirt, and a long cardigan and put them on. I just wear the slippers and grab my car keys while praying hard that none of what I'm starting to imagine is real. It only takes a few minutes for me to hit the road, and slide the Old-Benny to Beverly Hills.

"Talk to him. If he can't reach you, try to reach out to him." I recall Dr. Snape's words and I think she's right.

If Liam is leaving today, then we have to fix things before it's too late.

I run straight to his suite when I arrive at Four Seasons, but to my horror, I don't get any reply from my knocks. How can he be out at this hour? I pant heavily.

Now what? I take a moment to think, and I eventually get the answer.

I make a direct inquiry at the reception desk, hoping to hear something positive. I just want us to stop fighting. I want to know where we stand and whether this relationship has any future.

"He checked out this afternoon, it says," the receptionist tells me, her eyes fixed on the screen of her computer attentively.

No, Liam can't do that to me.

"Can you please check again? Maybe it's someone else," I insist with my finger crossed, praying for some miracle.

She looks at the screen again, and then up at me. "It's Liam Darcy, right?" she asks, and I nod. "He's really left. He even returned the rental car, according to the record."

No! He can't do this to me. I feel a stab in my heart, and I'm suddenly feeling numb to even stand properly. He left. The words replay in my head, driving me nuts. He can't leave me, can he? I lean onto the reception desk to balance my stance.

"Are you okay?" the receptionist kindly asks.

"Um, yeah. Well, did he say where he was going, maybe?" I ask desperately while I know perfectly well what a senseless question it is.

"No, he didn't," she answers with a weak smile.

"Any flight reservation, maybe?" I ask yet again, and at least this one kind of makes sense.

"No, I'm afraid not," she utters, smiling tightly.

Oh God!

"Okay, thank you," I manage to say with difficulty.