HER EX-BOYFRIEND’S BROTHER

The city buzzed outside Elena’s apartment window — a thousand lives colliding, chasing, dreaming. But inside, everything was still. Elena Hart curled her fingers around a chipped coffee mug, the warm porcelain grounding her as she stared at the skyline. The early morning light painted the tall glass towers gold, promising a beautiful day. She wanted to believe it. She needed to believe it. She had always loved mornings. New beginnings. Fresh chances. Endless hope. At twenty-five, Elena lived in a world she had built herself — a small apartment tucked away from the chaos of the city, a job she loved at the boutique marketing agency she had fought her way into, and friends who made the bad days bearable. It wasn’t perfect. But it was hers. And then there was Liam. She smiled softly at the thought of him — that boyish grin he wore like a crown, the way his green eyes could undo her with a single glance. Liam Rivers. He had walked into her life two years ago like a hurricane wrapped in charm, and she had been foolish enough — or brave enough — to let herself be swept away. They met at a coffee shop downtown, one of those places where the walls were covered in old vinyl records and the air always smelled of burnt espresso. He had bumped into her — literally — spilling her coffee all over her white blouse. She had expected anger, or at least irritation. But he had laughed. A real, contagious laugh. And somehow, she had laughed too. That was Liam: Larger than life. Impossible to stay mad at. Infuriatingly charming. He had asked her out before the stain on her blouse had even dried. And she had said yes — still laughing, still unsure, still... hopeful. Now, two years later, Elena still remembered the way he had looked at her that first night — as if she were a puzzle he couldn't wait to solve. As if she mattered. It hadn’t all been perfect. There were cracks even then — small ones. Liam loved the chase more than the keeping. He loved adventure but sometimes forgot about the small, quiet moments. He was spontaneous and wild, while Elena craved something steadier. But love — real love — was supposed to weather differences. Wasn’t it? She set the mug down and crossed the small apartment to the closet, pulling out a simple blue sundress. Liam was taking her to brunch today — some fancy place he had picked last-minute, of course — but it didn’t matter. It was him. It was them. She wanted to believe that was enough. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, dragging her from her thoughts. She glanced at the screen and smiled: Liam. > “Hey beautiful. Running late. Again. Don’t kill me. I’ll pick you up in 30. Can’t wait to see you.” She laughed under her breath, typing back quickly: > “Don’t make me wait too long, or I’ll find someone else to take me out.” It was a joke. Mostly. Sliding her phone into her bag, Elena caught her reflection in the mirror. She touched the small scar above her eyebrow — a childhood accident — and smiled at herself, a little sadly. "You’re okay," she whispered to the girl in the glass. "You’re going to be okay." Today would be beautiful. It had to be. And somewhere deep inside, a small, quiet voice — the one she tried not to listen to — whispered: For how long? ---