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CHAPTER 61 — “The Woman Who Stayed”
Last Updated:
2026-01-08 14:37:48
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The Man I Was Meant to Hate CHAPTER 61 — “The Woman Who Stayed”
Liam's POVAnd somebody has just reminded me why. The woman does not even stir when Ava sees her. She is standing in the middle of the street as she always was, merely a part of the morning traffic, open cafe door, and that odour of burnt coffee. Her coat is plain, her hair is gathered in, she is not holding a phone, and she has no hurry in her eyes.Ava’s steps slow.I sense it even before she is going to say something. That tiny shift in her body. Her fingers squeeze me and then relax. She does not appear scared, and that is what frightens me.“Liam,” she whispers. “She’s been watching.”I follow Ava’s gaze. The woman looks directly at me without any compromise. No smile, no threat. Only a glance, as though she has already made her mind up and now is waiting till the world catches up.All instincts declare: get in front of Ava. End this now. We swore to ourselves normal. Coffee. A walk. Quiet.Normal never lasts.“Do you know her?” I ask.Ava shakes her head. “But she knows me.” T
The Man I Was Meant to Hate CHAPTER 60 — “Almost Normal”
Ava's POVThe coffee smells real.That’s the first thing I notice as I push open the glass door and step inside. Warm. Bitter. Comforting. Not sharp like smoke. Not cold like metal. Just coffee.For a moment, I stopped walking.My body doesn’t trust this. It waits for shouting. Sirens. Someone grabbed my arm and pulled me back into the dark.Nothing happens.People stand in line. A woman laughs at her phone. A man argues with the barista about oat milk. Life keeps going like it never almost crushed me.Liam’s hand tightens around mine.“You okay?” he asks quietly.I nod, even though my chest feels strange. Light. Heavy. Both.“I think so,” I say. “It just feels… loud.”He gives a small smile. “Normal can be loud.”That word still feels new in my mouth. Normal.We step into line together. Our shoulders brush. His thumb moves slowly over my knuckles like he’s counting something. Like he’s making sure I’m real.No guards today.No agents watching from across the street. No cars idling to
The Man I Was Meant to Hate CHAPTER 59 — “Rylan’s Reckoning”
Rylan's POV I haven't slept in two days. Not any sleep that really makes you forget things. I can still hear his voice, Ethan, every time I close my eyes; he is always one step ahead, calm, sharp. He always trusts me to keep up. I didn’t. And that is the fact I keep circling round in, as though I could look at it from enough angles, it would be softened. It doesn’t.Silence there is in my apartment that makes the skin itch. There is a hum of the city beyond, and the rain and traffic pounding on the fire exit. I am sitting at the small window table, with my laptop open and with the screen blazing with lines of code and folders that no longer ought to be.But they do. Since Ethan never believed in one concealment. Neither should I.I rub my face and lean back in the chair. My weight is creaking the wood. I feel older than I should. Guilt does that. It also gets into your bones, and it does not want to go. I regret, I say to nobody. Or maybe to him.The last time I saw Ethan, he smiled
The Man I Was Meant to Hate CHAPTER 58 — “The Anonymous Tip”
Ava's POVThe email arrives at 6:42 p.m.I knew the exact time because I was watching the clock on the microwave, waiting for it to beep so Liam would stop pretending he knew what he was doing in the kitchen.The subject line is blank. No greeting. No signature. Just one sentence in the body: “YOU FORGOT ONE CONTRACT.”My fingers go cold around my phone. The kitchen smells like something burned and something sweet at the same time. Butter, maybe. Or sugar. Or panic. Liam is standing over the stove, wooden spoon in hand, staring into the pan like it personally betrayed him.Is it supposed to look like that? he asks, without turning.I don’t answer. My heart is already running. Then I read the sentence again. Slowly. Like if I stare hard enough, the words will explain themselves.You forgot one contract.I didn’t. I couldn’t have. I burned it. I watched the paper curl and blacken. I watched the ink disappear. I made sure. I made damn sure.“Ava?” Liam glances over his shoulder. Hey. Are
The Man I Was Meant to Hate CHAPTER 57 — “What He Almost Lost”
Liam's POVInstead, I did not inform her of how much I was about to leave. Not right away.The following morning, following the message, the house was silent once again, but was completely different compared to yesterday. Not calm. Watchful. And even the air appeared to be listening.Ava has her legs brought up, and she is sitting with her back to the couch. She is clearing a box of old stuff we got out of storage, papers, photos, fragments of a life that outlived fire and the truth.I watch her from the doorway. This--this--it is all that I nearly left.She lifts a photo and squints. Why do I appear as I am judging the camera? she says.I laugh softly. “You always look like that.”She smiles, and it strikes me in the chest.I move into the room and sit next to her. Our shoulders touch. Simple. Familiar. Safe, for now.She glances at me. “You’ve been quiet.”I shrug. “Just thinking.”She gazes at my face just as she always does when she is certain there is more. “About what?”I don’t
The Man I Was Meant to Hate CHAPTER 56 — “ The Quiet Morning”
Ava's POVI woke up because of the light. It slides under the thin curtains and lies across the bed as it is part of it. No alarms. No shouting outside. None of those sharp jerks of fear at my breast, and for a few seconds, I don’t move. I just breathe. Liam sits next to me, facing the window, one of his arms folded under his pillow. His expression is placid in a manner never seen before. Not guarded. Not alert. Just resting. This is new. Then I stand there and allow myself to touch it. The weight of the blanket. The comfort of another body near mine. The muffled sound of the house rising around us. No sirens. No footsteps. No time running out in my head. My body believes it for the first time. I slid out of bed and crept into the kitchen. The floor is cold again. The same cracked ceiling. The same crooked table. But this morning it is different. I prepare coffee and stand in front of the window as it brews. Grass is glittering with dew outside. A dog of a neighbour barks,
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