Chapter 1: The Girl Who Believed In LoveMy name is Ella, and I am 24 years old.And I have loved four men before him.If you had asked me at sixteen what love was, I would have smiled and told you it was everything. It was holding hands after school. It was first kisses. It was forever.I really believed that.The first was Daniel. My first love. Sweet, innocent, with that boyish smile that made my heart race. He held my hand in the hallway of my high school and whispered that we would be forever. He was my first everything. My first kiss, my first date, my first heartbreak. Because forever in high school only lasts until graduation. He left for college and left me with a broken promise and a lesson: first love never lasts.The second was my best friend, Mark. He knew all my secrets. He knew how Daniel broke me. He was there with ice cream at midnight, with jokes when I cried. He knew all my scars, and I thought that was love. I thought love could grow from friendship, from comfort, from safety. So when he kissed me one night, I let him. I tried. For a year, I tried to love my best friend. But I learned the second lesson: you cannot force love to grow where it is only meant to be friendship. We ended awkwardly, painfully, and I lost not just a boyfriend, but my best friend.The third was the almost. Alex. God, Alex. He was charming, mysterious, everything a girl dreams of. He would pull me close and then push me away. He would say "you're special" but never "you're mine." For two years, I lived in the almost. Almost his girlfriend. Almost loved. Almost chosen. I waited for him to finally choose me. He never did. He chose someone else. Lesson three: almost is still nothing. Almost will leave you more empty than never at all.And the fourth? The fourth was Liam. He broke me completely. He was intense, possessive, passionate. At first I thought his jealousy was love. I thought his control was care. I was wrong. So wrong. He taught me that the person who says "I love you" the loudest can be the same person who destroys you quietly. He taught me that love could be a weapon, a prison, a nightmare. When I finally left him, I had nothing left. No tears, no hope, no heart to give.Four heartbreaks. Four lessons.So I told myself I was done. Done with love. Done with men. Done with believing in happy endings and forever promises. I focused on work. I built walls so high no one could ever climb them again.Until that night.My friends forced me to go to a rooftop launch party in the city. I didn't want to go. I stood by the bar, in my simple black dress, holding a glass of wine I didn't want to drink, watching happy couples and thinking how foolish they all were.And then I bumped into him.Literally bumped into him, spilling my wine all over his perfect white shirt.His eyes were colder than winter. His suit was expensive, probably worth more than my rent for three months. His voice could make the whole room go silent.He looked down at his stained shirt, then at me, like I was a problem he didn't want to solve."You are in my way," he said, his voice low and icy.And I, the girl who was done with love, the girl who had nothing left to lose, said something incredibly stupid.I looked right into those cold, beautiful eyes and said, "Then move me."The whole bar went quiet. His friend behind him choked on his drink.And for the first time in years, a man looked at me not with pity, not with lust, not with control — but with curiosity.That was how it started. With me, broken and hopeless and done with love.And him.The man who would teach me that everything I knew about love was wrong.Until it was you.---
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