Liam and I had been together for five years.

We bought this apartment two years ago, our future home.

It was an old building, and the apartment wasn't big, but I didn't care.

We were just ordinary people with ordinary jobs.

Having our own place in this city was already a miracle.

My parents died a long time ago.

All I ever wanted was a happy family.

In our most intimate moments, Liam swore he would give me that happiness.

And I, like a fool, believed him.

Every piece of furniture in here, we picked out together.

The flowers on the balcony, I tended them myself.

I poured all my love into this place, making it the warm, cozy home I'd always dreamed of.

But just like the old wiring in the walls, our relationship had been decaying for a long time.

Hidden beneath the surface of what I thought were perfect, happy days was a ticking time bomb.

I calmly picked up the photo album I used to treasure so much.

It held every picture of us from the last five years.

He used to joke that we'd pass it down to our kids someday.

Now, it turned to ash in my hands in less than a second.

The fire was growing, a roaring beast.

It consumed the bedroom door, the mattress, the curtains, and then it rushed towards me.

My only escape was the window.

I scrambled out onto the air conditioning unit outside.

My hands gripped the burning hot window frame.

I knew I wasn't safe yet.

This was the fifth floor.

Not terribly high, but I was pregnant.

If I fell, there was no telling what would happen.

A crowd had gathered below, mostly neighbors.

I even recognized a few faces.

When they saw me climb out, they started to panic.

"Hold on tight!"

"Don't let go!"

"We called the fire department!"

Even though some of them were practically strangers, they were terrified for me.

But Liam, the man I had spent nearly two thousand days and nights with, could be so cold.

A bitter smile touched my lips.

I was learning the hard way what it meant to love the wrong person.

With so many people calling, Ryan at the station finally realized something was wrong.

One or two calls could be a prank.

But this many, each more frantic than the last, made even him nervous.

But Liam had used his authority as Captain to take almost the entire crew to Lily.

Even if Ryan wanted to respond, he had no one to go with him.

The neighbors below waited and waited, but no fire truck came.

And up on the ledge, I was starting to wobble.

The pain in my stomach made my face go pale.

My body wouldn't stop shaking.

Blisters were forming on my palms.

I couldn't hold on.

As everyone below screamed, I lost my grip.

I fell backwards...

In that dizzying moment, I thought about when Liam and I first met.

It was through a mutual friend, and we just clicked instantly.

Neither of us liked spicy food or anything too overpowering.

We both loved movies and documentaries, plants and animals.

I used to think Liam and I were soulmates.

I foolishly assumed he thought so, too.

After all, he was always so thoughtful, so caring.

He even stood at my parents' graves and swore he would love me for the rest of his life.

It never once occurred to me that there was someone else in his heart.

Everyone said Liam was crazy about me.

And I was naive enough to believe it.

Until Lily, his high school sweetheart, came back from living abroad.

One night, late, during a thunderstorm, she called him.

Liam was already asleep, but he shot out of bed, ignoring my pleas, and threw on his clothes to go to her.

Maybe that should have been my first clue.

Maybe I should have seen right then how important she was to him.

But instead, I believed his flimsy excuse that she was depressed and he was her only lifeline.

It was so obvious now.

Lily could have seen a doctor.

She could have taken medication.

What was she doing calling someone else's fiancé?

And it was always late at night.

A man and a woman, all alone.

I can't believe I ever thought nothing was going on.

Then, with Liam's encouragement, Lily added me on social media.

The two of them became even more brazen, insisting they were just friends and that they were trying to be transparent so I wouldn't worry.

But this "innocent" and "kind" Lily, as Liam called her, would "accidentally" send me suggestive photos.

Sometimes it was a picture of a movie screen they were watching together.

Sometimes it was Liam's back as he cooked for her.

Sometimes it was his face, asleep on her couch, with their hands clasped together.

I fought with Liam constantly over those pictures.

But every time, he would just rub his temples wearily, like I was the one being unreasonable.

"Chloe, I'm just so tired."

"I'm just trying to keep Lily from killing herself, that's all."

"There's nothing going on between us."

"Can you please just stop?"

Thinking about how he acted after she died, it was obvious there was "something going on."

He was willing to kill me and his own child for her.

Reborn into this hell, pushed to the edge by him all over again.

There wasn't a shred of doubt left in my mind.

Liam never loved me.

I chose the wrong man.

I guess I was lucky.