chapter 2
Hate
Since Liam's departure, I had found myself seeking solace in work, desperate to escape the haunting memories that lingered in every corner of our home. The house, once filled with laughter and warmth, now felt like a hollow shell, a constant reminder of what I had lost. Every room, every piece of furniture, seemed to hold a memory of Liam, and I couldn't bear the thought of being alone with my thoughts.
I remembered the way Liam would stand by the door, his eyes fixed on the driveway, waiting for my return. The moment I stepped out of the car, he would burst into a fit of excitement, bouncing up and down on his feet, his arms outstretched, begging to be swept up in my arms. His slender frame fit perfectly against my muscular build, and I would lift him up, feeling his warmth and love as he wrapped his arms around my neck.
Liam had been a petite man, standing at just 5'3", with a delicate features and a fragile appearance that belied his fierce spirit. It was a characteristic common to all gers, who seemed to embody a quiet strength and resilience despite their slender builds. But now, our home was empty, devoid of Liam's bright smile and infectious laughter. All that remained was the crushing loneliness and the memories of our time together, memories that I couldn't erase no matter how hard I tried.
I glared at Rachel, my disdain for her palpable. She was the last person I wanted to see, especially in my own home. Her presence seemed to suffocate me, reminding me of the pain she had caused Liam and me.
"What do you want, Rachel?" I asked gruffly, trying to keep my emotions in check.
She sat in my sitting room, looking smug and confident, as if she owned the place. Her eyes sparkled with a self-assured glint, and her red lips curled into a sly smile.
"Oh, Mark, your mother told me you left work early today, so I thought I'd drop by and ask you out," she said, her voice dripping with sweetness.
I felt a wave of revulsion wash over me. Rachel was the reason my mother had never approved of Liam and me. She was the one my mother wanted me to marry, but I would rather die than spend my life with her.
"No need, I'm going out with Damien tonight," I replied curtly, trying to dismiss her.
But Rachel didn't take the hint. She stood up and sauntered over to me, her eyes locked on mine. Her fingers brushed against my chest, sending a shiver of disgust down my spine.
"How will we get married if we don't get to know each other?" she cooed, her voice dripping with insincerity.
I recoiled from her touch, my anger boiling over. "I'll never marry you, Rachel. Now get out of my house. I need some air."
I grabbed my car keys and headed for the door, desperate to escape her toxic presence. Rachel was beautiful, but her beauty was only skin-deep. I knew she had a hidden agenda, and I suspected she might be connected to Liam's disappearance. The thought sent a chill down my spine, and I knew I had to get away from her before I lost my temper completely.