On the screen, pictures started playing.
It was all photos that Liam had taken of me, from age fifteen to age twenty–five.
He and I had had a lot of good times.
When he took my picture, he always said I was his muse, the source of his inspiration.
I had enjoyed being in his photos.
He was always so focused on me, his world was just me.
But later, I started working hard.
He started his studio, and his focus began to shift.
I didn’t know that all of this was happening.
He started saying that my poses were boring, and that I looked bad.
He stopped wanting to take photos of me, or with me.
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His photos were all of Sarah, with the same focus he used to have on me.
And it wasn’t just work.
I started hating myself for not being fun anymore.
I was watching him slip away from me.
It was then that I finally understood. I wasn’t boring, I was still me.
It was his world, a new person had come into it, and they were more interesting than I was.
The memories were like the photos, one after the other.
Until, the photos on the screen stopped on our wedding photo.
Liam walked slowly towards me, wearing a matching suit.
He was staring at me as he spoke, “Chloe, let’s get married again, please?”
“Let’s have a real wedding. I will plan everything.”
All of those photos had me all emotional, but not for him.
I shook myself, and broke the spell.
“Liam, it’s over. Please, just let me go, let us go.”
Liam’s face went stiff. “I don’t want to lose you, why are you being so cruel?”
“Can’t you forgive me? Just once?”
I shook my head. “I’ve forgiven you way too many times already.”
“For the years that you didn’t see me in your camera, I lost count.”
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“That’s why you always think that I’ll forgive you.”
“And that’s why I suffered, doubting myself and making myself miserable.”
Liam was about to say more, but my alarm went off.
