Kylie’s POV
I looked through the window and I saw him
I knew he would come.
Not because he warned me. Not because he asked. But because Liam never learned how to let go quietly. He always arrived like a storm that believed it still owned the sky.
I was still standing by the window when I felt it—that familiar tightening in my chest. The city below looked calm. Too calm. I pressed a hand to my stomach without thinking, a habit I hadn’t yet learned how to hide from people yet.
The knock came once.
Firm. Confident. Like he lived here.
I didn’t open the door immediately. I counted to ten. Then to twenty. I told myself I didn’t owe him anything. Not my time. Not my fear. Not my past.
When I finally opened the door, he was there. Liam. Exactly the way memory preserves people you shouldn’
