Hazel's POV
Hazel woke to the soft light of dawn streaming through her window, her fingers still tingling from the memory of Liam's touch. Last night had been a moment she never expected—raw, quiet, and strangely comforting. But with the beauty of their reconnection came the inevitable shadow of everything they hadn't said.
Her phone buzzed again. A message from Ava:
"Breakfast or breakdown? Pick one. I'm bringing coffee."
Hazel replied with a smile and dragged herself out of bed. She wasn't ready to dissect last night yet—not until she could look at it without her heart fluttering.
***
Ava dropped a paper bag and two lattes on Hazel's table. "Alright. Spill. Was it romantic? Did he cry? Did *you* cry?"
Hazel laughed, though the knot in her stomach said otherwise. "It was emotional. And he showed me a painting."
Ava took a sip and narrowed her eyes. "A painting? That's Liam's version of a love letter."
"It was me. He painted me." Hazel's voice was soft. "But not how I used to be—how I am now."
"That's huge, Hazel." Ava's tone turned serious. "You realize what that means, right? He's still in love with you. Maybe he never stopped."
Hazel hesitated. "That's what scares me."
Ava leaned in. "Then maybe it's time you stop running from it. Or at least, from yourself."
***
Later that day, Hazel wandered into the gallery again. She hadn't planned to go, but her feet carried her there like muscle memory.
She found Liam in his studio, paint smudged across his hands, canvas after canvas leaning against the walls.
He looked up, startled. "Hey. Didn't think I'd see you so soon."
"I wanted to ask you something," Hazel said, walking in slowly.
Liam wiped his hands on a cloth, eyes steady. "Anything."
Hazel paused in front of him. "Back thenwhen it all ended-you disappeared. No warning, no closure. Why?"
Liam's jaw tightened. He sat on the edge of the table, the weight of the question settling between them.
"I didn't know how to stay," he finally said. "We were young, Hazel. I was scared. Of loving you too much. Of losing myself in it. Of not being enough for what you deserved."
"You never gave me the chance to decide," she said, voice trembling. "You left, and I had to put myself back together without knowing why I was broken."
"I know." He stepped closer. "And I've regretted it every day since."
Silence fell, thick and heavy.
Then Hazel asked the question that had haunted her: "Did you ever stop loving me?"
Liam's answer was immediate. "Never."
Her chest ached with the truth of it. "Then don't walk away this time. If we're going to do this again, I need to know it's real."
He reached for her hand. "It always was. I just didn't know how to hold onto it. But I do now—if you'll let me try."
Hazel didn't speak. She simply leaned forward, resting her head against his shoulder.
Maybe they couldn't change the past but they could face it together now.