Chapter 20
“Esme, can you just look at me?” Liam’s voice was soft, wounded, as he stood behind her.
But Esme moved around him like he wasn’t even there, unlocking the café door and stepping
inside without a word.
“Esme, please. Just listen to me.” Liam followed her in, refusing to give up. He watched as she set up the place for the day, flipping on the espresso machine, rinsing cups and plates, every movement efficient and practiced.
Suddenly, a memory hit him–something he’d ignored for years.
“I just want a simple, easy life,” she’d said, wrapped in a blanket, sitting beside him under the stars. Their shoulders touched, and the night air was quiet and warm.
“Esme, whatever life you want, I’ll be there with you,” he’d promised, his voice still boyish and uncertain. They were only in middle school back then.
She’d only smiled at him. “Liam, you’ll never understand.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he’d protested, already anxious.
She thought for a moment, then said quietly, “You’re going to be the next head of Mitchell Corporation. You’ll have to carry your whole family on your shoulders–run the company, marry the perfect wife, have a bunch of kids, and raise them to be the next Mitchell heirs.”
“And me? I don’t want any of that. I just want to run a little café and live a free, happy life with someone romantic.”
He’d grabbed her hand. “Esme, that’s not me. I only want you.”
She’d smiled again, but she never looked him in the eye.
In the end, though, she did fall for him. For him, she changed everything–became the gracious, patient Mrs. Mitchell.
And he… he forgot. He forgot her dreams, forgot that starlit night.
A tear slid down Liam’s cheek, landing on the back of Esme’s hand. She pulled back, finally breaking her silence.
“Liam, we’re divorced. We’re nothing to each other now.”
Her voice was cool, steady–like she’d really moved on.
“Esme, I’m sorry.”
“I know everything now. Joy’s child was never yours. All those lies and rumors about me–l know the truth.”
“The child isn’t yours?” Esme raised an eyebrow. “Then whose is it?”
Liam rushed to explain, “It’s some rich businessman’s. Joy was his mistress, but when she got pregnant, he dumped her. So she drugged me and tried to blame it on me.”
“Esme, Grandma and I have already dealt with her. She won’t bother us again.” He slid a jade bracelet onto her wrist. “Grandma wanted you to have this. She wants you back. You’re the real Mrs. Mitchell.”
Esme frowned, sliding the bracelet off and pressing it into his palm.
“Liam, love is like this bracelet–once it’s broken, it’s broken.”
“No matter how you try to fix it, how much you try to make up for it, the cracks are always there.”
She gave a bitter laugh. “Mr. Mitchell, please leave my café. Someone as important as you doesn’t belong here.”
The bracelet felt heavy in his hand, like it might crush him.
He looked at her, pain in every line of his face. “If I can’t make up for the past, then let me start over. Forget what happened, Esme. Let’s just look forward. Please?”
Esme let out a sharp laugh, anger flickering in her eyes. “Liam, can you stop being ridiculous?”
But he didn’t move. No matter what she said, he kept coming back.
The next day, Esme had barely opened the café when Liam walked in, arms full of roses still wet with morning dew.
“Liam! I don’t want any of that in my shop!”
He just set the flowers on the counter. “Esme, I want some of your homemade pudding.”
He pulled out his black card. “I’ll take fifty.”
Esme leaned against the wall, giving him a tight, sarcastic smile.
“Not for sale.”
On the third day, there were no roses. Instead, Liam showed up with a crew, carrying boxes through the door.
“What are you doing? Stop!” Esme rushed to block the entrance.
Liam held up his hands. “Esme, wait, I just wanted to get you better coffee machines-”
Her face was stone cold. “No. Take your people and go.”
And so it went, day after day, Liam showed up at her café every morning, watched her open up, waited until she closed, always nearby.
Finally, Esme snapped. When the last customer left, she dragged Liam inside, her face blazing with anger.
“Liam, are you serious? Are you really still playing these childish games?”
