Chapter 7: Deceiver

Kael's POV

It's been 1 week when our argument happened, and we're good after that, we continuously talked each other everyday after my work is over. Now it's rest day and I am going to his house, believing that we're already on good terms; but we're not.

My hands were shaking.

I don't even know how I managed to walk away as quietly as I did, like my body had gone into autopilot. I just left. I didn't say anything, didn't even let out a single sound. But now, sitting on this couch just outside our bedroom, all I could hear was the muffled sounds from inside.

Liam. And another guy.

They're still at it, like nothing else matters, like I don't matter. I don't even know how long I've been sitting here, staring at the floor. My mind feels like it's unraveling. I can't process this. I can't understand how the hell I got here—again.

Just a week ago, we had that huge argument. I forgave him. Again. I let him manipulate me into thinking he was sorry, that he'd actually change, that he wanted me and only me.

What a fucking joke.

I thought about walking in there, throwing them both out, screaming at Liam right then and there. But I couldn't do it. I'm too tired. I'm too fucking exhausted to fight. So I wait. I wait here for them to finish like I'm some kind of guest in my own life, waiting for my turn to be heard.

When the door finally opens, I don't even bother looking up right away. I hear Liam scrambling around, trying to pull his clothes on as fast as he can. Pathetic. He's panicking, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Kael, I—"

"Don't," I cut him off. My voice comes out flat, but inside I feel like I'm about to explode. "Don't you dare say a fucking word."

He freezes, standing there half-dressed, his mouth hanging open. I don't even have to look at him to know the exact expression on his face: guilty, terrified, scrambling for some kind of excuse. But not this time. This time, I'm done.

I stand up slowly, and it feels like all the rage, the disappointment, the pain I've been holding onto just bubbles up to the surface. I feel it rising, ready to spill over, and there's nothing stopping it now.

"You know what's funny?" I start, my voice somehow calm, too calm. "I actually believed you. After everything you put me through, I believed you when you said you'd change. I forgave you, Liam. I gave you another chance, even though I knew I probably shouldn't have. I thought, 'Maybe this time will be different.'"

He starts to say something, but I don't let him. "No," I snap, cutting him off again. "You don't get to talk. You've said enough."

I start pacing, the anger in me burning hotter with every word. "Do you even understand what you've done? Do you even care? After everything, after all the fights, the apologies, the promises... I gave you everything, Liam. I gave you all of me. And you repay me by screwing some random guy in our bed?"

I can see him squirming now, out of the corner of my eye. He's trying to figure out what to say, how to twist this in his favor, but I'm not giving him an inch.

"I could've walked in there," I continue, my voice rising. "I could've interrupted you two, dragged your ass out of bed, made a scene. But you're not even worth it. I'm so tired, Liam. I'm so fucking tired. I'm tired of you, tired of the lies, tired of feeling like I'm the one who's crazy for caring too much."

My breathing is coming faster now. I can't stop the words from coming out, can't stop the flood of everything I've been holding back for too damn long.

"You made me feel like I was the problem. Every time I told you how I felt, every time I opened up, you twisted it around. Made me feel like I was overreacting, like I was the one who needed to change. But it was you. All along, it was you."

I stop pacing and finally look him dead in the eye. "You've been lying to me, Liam. You've been cheating on me, betraying me, and then you had the nerve to stand there and say you loved me. That you wanted me. You don't love me. You never did."

He's pale now, his eyes wide, and he looks like he's about to say something, but I don't care. His words don't matter anymore.

"Shut up," I snap again, not giving him a chance. "You don't get to speak. Not this time."

I take a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady, but it's hard. The pain is too much. "You've made me feel like I was nothing. Over and over again. I kept forgiving you, kept thinking that maybe if I loved you hard enough, you'd change. But you didn't. And now... now I see exactly who you are."

I wipe at my eyes roughly. I'm not going to cry. Not in front of him. Not again.

"I don't even know why I'm still standing here, talking to you," I say, my voice trembling with anger. "I should've walked out the second I saw what you were doing. But no, here I am, still trying to make sense of it, still trying to understand why the hell I wasted so much time on you."

I grab my bag from the couch. I can't be here anymore. I need to get out before I lose it completely.

"I'm leaving," I say, slinging the bag over my shoulder. "I don't know if I'm ever coming back. I don't even know if I can. But right now, I'm done. I'm done with this, and I'm done with you."

Liam stumbles over his words, trying to say something, probably trying to beg me to stay, but I don't want to hear it. I can't. I turn and head for the door, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Kael, wait—"

I don't. I open the door and step out into the cold night air, not even bothering to look back. I hear him say something else behind me, but it's too late.

I walk down the street, my mind racing. I should feel relief, right? I should feel free. But all I feel is empty. Like the last few years of my life just evaporated into thin air.

I loved him. God, I loved him so much. But love wasn't enough to fix this. Love wasn't enough to fix Liam. And now, I'm left with nothing but the pieces of what I thought we had.

I keep walking, the weight of it all pressing down on me. Maybe I'll be okay eventually. Maybe this was the closure I needed. But for now, all I know is that I can't go back. Not anymore.

I can hear footsteps behind me, fast and desperate. I know exactly who it is, but I don't bother turning around. It's the same damn pattern, isn't it? He fucks up, I catch him, and then here he comes, running after me, saying all the things he thinks I want to hear. But this time... this time it's different.

"Kael! Wait!" Liam's voice calls out, breathless, panicked.

I keep walking, ignoring him. The night air is cool, and each step I take feels like another piece of him being peeled away from my life. It's freeing, even though the ache in my chest hasn't quite gone away yet.

"Kael, please!" he says again, closer now. "Just stop for a second."

I sigh, slowing down but not stopping. "What do you want, Liam?" I ask, my voice flat, void of emotion. It's like I don't even care anymore, and maybe I don't.

Liam catches up, panting slightly, trying to pull himself together. He looks like hell—his hair a mess, his clothes hastily thrown on. There's a wild, desperate look in his eyes, like he's just realized how badly he screwed up. But I don't care anymore. Not this time.

"Kael, let's just talk, please," he says, reaching out as if he's going to grab my arm but stopping himself at the last second. "I'm sorry. I really am. I messed up, okay? I was stupid, and I don't even know why I did it, but..."

I cut him off, turning to face him. "You don't know why you did it?" I laugh, the sound bitter and harsh. "That's your excuse? You 'don't know why'? Seriously, Liam?"

He flinches at the tone, but I don't care. I'm done playing nice. "You want to talk? Fine, let's talk," I say, crossing my arms and glaring at him. "Let's talk about how you've been fucking around behind my back. Let's talk about how I caught you in our bed with another guy, and now you want to stand here and act like you're the victim."

"I'm not trying to—"

"Shut up, Liam," I snap, cutting him off. "I'm not in the mood to hear your bullshit excuses. Not anymore."

He looks down, his shoulders slumping. "I know I messed up, but I love you, Kael. I really do. It was a mistake. I don't even care about that other guy—it meant nothing."

I roll my eyes. "Right. It 'meant nothing.' Funny how every cheater says that. You expect me to believe that, after everything?"

He starts stammering again, trying to find the right words, but I'm not giving him the satisfaction of a heartfelt apology. No, not this time.

"Liam, just stop," I say, holding up a hand. "You've said enough. You had your chance. You had eight months of chances. And you know what? I've been asking myself the real question—why the hell was I even with you for that long?"

Liam looks up at me, confused. "What are you talking about?"

I laugh again, but this time, it's more mocking. "Look at yourself, Liam. Seriously, just look at you. Do you have any idea how ridiculous you look right now? Chasing me down the street after cheating on me, acting like I'm just going to forgive you because you say a few sorrys?"

He opens his mouth, but I'm not done. Not even close.

"You know, I've been thinking about it," I continue, taking a step toward him, my tone dripping with sarcasm. "And honestly, I'm not even sure what I ever saw in you. I mean, look at you. You're what? 5'9" on a good day? Maybe 5'8" if we're being honest. You don't even have the decency to work out or take care of yourself. And don't get me started on your clothes, Liam. You dress like you raided a clearance bin from 2006. It's like you stopped caring the moment we started dating."

His face flushes red, and for once, he's speechless.

"And your hair," I say, shaking my head with mock pity. "Jesus, what the hell happened there? Did you just give up, or are you trying to start a new trend of 'I don't care enough to run a comb through it'? You look like you're auditioning for a homeless version of a boy band."

"Kael, that's not fair—"

"Fair?" I laugh again, louder this time. "You want to talk about fair? You're standing here, trying to guilt me into taking you back after you cheated on me—again—and you want to talk about fair? I've been nothing but good to you. I've put up with your bullshit for months, let you make me feel like I was the one who wasn't enough, when all along it was you who was a fucking disaster."

He's silent now, his face red with embarrassment, but I'm not stopping.

"Honestly, Liam, I should be embarrassed for even giving you the time of day," I continue, my voice sharp. "I don't even know what I was thinking. You? You had the audacity to cheat on me, and I was out here thinking you were actually worth it. But look at you. Really, look at yourself."

I step back and gesture at him with a smirk. "No style, no ambition, no loyalty. You're like a walking ad for wasted potential. And you really thought you could get away with this?"

Liam's face is twisted in a mix of anger and shame now, but I can see it in his eyes—he's still trying to figure out how to salvage this. He thinks I'll cave. He always thinks I'll cave.

"I don't know what to say, Kael," he finally mumbles, his voice weak.

"That's because there's nothing to say, Liam. Nothing you say matters anymore," I reply coldly. "You could've had everything with me, but instead, you chose to fuck it up. And for what? For some random guy who doesn't even mean anything to you?"

"I made a mistake," he says again, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know why I did it. I swear, I don't—"

"Of course, you don't know," I snap. "Because you don't think. You never think. You just do whatever the hell you want and expect me to clean up the mess. Well, guess what? I'm done cleaning up after you. I'm done with you."

He stands there, looking lost, like a little boy who just got told he can't have candy. For a moment, I almost feel sorry for him. But then I remember what he did, what I saw, and all the pity evaporates.

"You know what the worst part is?" I say, my voice quieter now, but still firm. "I actually cared about you. I really, really did. But now... I'm just wondering what the hell I was thinking. I mean, look at you, Liam. Look at yourself. You've got nothing going for you, and you have the nerve to cheat on me? You should be on your knees thanking me for even giving you the time of day."

I watch as his face crumbles, the realization finally hitting him. But I don't care. Not anymore.

"I'm done," I say firmly, turning away from him. "I'm not wasting any more of my time on you. I've got better things to do than listen to your pathetic excuses."

I start walking again, and this time, I don't stop when he calls after me. His voice is smaller now, more desperate, but I'm already gone.

For the first time in months, I feel free. I feel like I can finally breathe without him suffocating me. And as I walk away, I can't help but laugh a little to myself.

What the hell was I thinking?