When The Rain Fall

For a while, things felt like they were finally falling into place. Mia and Liam spent more time together, their connection deepening with every shared moment. He painted, she thrived at work, and their late-night talks under the old oak tree became a tradition neither wanted to break.

Then one evening, a new presence entered their world.

Mia was sitting alone at the café near her office, waiting for Liam to meet her after his art class, when a woman slid into the seat across from her. She was tall and striking, with sharp cheekbones and piercing green eyes. Her presence demanded attention, but there was something unsettling about the way she studied Mia, as if trying to read between the lines of her existence.

"You're Mia, right?" the woman asked, her voice smooth but edged with something unreadable.

Mia frowned. "Do I know you?"

The woman smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "No. But I know Liam."

Mia's breath hitched. "Who are you?"

The woman leaned back, crossing her arms. "Eleanor." She let the name hang between them before adding, "Liam's fiancée."

The world tilted. The sounds of the café faded into a dull hum, drowned out by the roaring in Mia's ears.

"That's not possible," she whispered, gripping the edge of the table.

Eleanor arched an eyebrow. "I thought you might say that." She reached into her bag and pulled out a small envelope, sliding it across the table. "If you don't believe me, ask him yourself. But be prepared for the truth."

Mia hesitated, staring at the envelope like it was a ticking bomb. Finally, with trembling fingers, she picked it up and slid out a photograph.

Liam and Eleanor. Standing in front of a courthouse. His arm around her waist, his face unreadable.

Mia couldn't breathe.

That night, she confronted Liam.

He had barely stepped into her apartment when she threw the photograph onto the table between them. "Tell me this isn't real."

Liam's face drained of color. He picked up the picture, his hands shaking slightly. "Mia, I can explain—"

"Don't," she snapped, crossing her arms. "Just tell me the truth."

He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "Eleanor and I… We were engaged. Years ago." His voice was raw, filled with something between regret and exhaustion. "She was the reason I left. I thought I had moved on, but when she found me a few months ago, I—" He hesitated.

"You what?" Mia demanded.

"I met with her," he admitted, barely above a whisper. "To get closure. To finally let go of that part of my life."

Mia felt like the ground beneath her was crumbling. "And did you?"

Liam hesitated too long.

Mia took a step back. "You still love her."

"No," Liam said quickly. "It's not like that."

"Then what is it like?" She searched his face, but he looked as lost as she felt.

Finally, he exhaled. "She told me something, Mia." He swallowed hard. "Something I don't know how to deal with."

Mia's heart pounded. "What?"

Liam met her gaze, his storm-gray eyes filled with something she had never seen before—fear.

"She's pregnant."

The words hit like a tidal wave. Mia staggered back, shaking her head. "No. That's not possible. You told me you hadn't seen her in years."

Liam nodded. "I thought so too. But she says the baby is mine."

Mia's vision blurred. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening.

"She might be lying," Liam added quickly, stepping toward her. "I don't even know if—"

Mia held up a hand. "Stop." She needed space. Air. Time to think.

Liam's face fell. "Mia, please. I love you."

The words felt hollow now.

"Do you?" she whispered. "Because this changes everything."

Liam reached for her, but she took another step back. "I need time, Liam."

And for the first time since he had returned to her life, Mia did what he had once done to her.

She walked away.

The days that followed were agonizing. Mia wanted to believe Liam, to believe that Eleanor's presence in his life didn't change what they had built. But deep down, she knew better.

Love was supposed to be about trust. About choosing each other despite the storms. But how could she trust Liam when his past had come crashing back into their present?

Then one evening, a knock at her door shattered her solitude.

She opened it, expecting Liam. Instead, she found Eleanor.

"May I come in?" Eleanor asked, her expression unreadable.

Mia hesitated before stepping aside.

Eleanor took in the apartment, nodding slightly as if confirming something to herself. Then she turned to Mia.

"I lied," she said simply.

Mia's breath caught. "About what?"

"The baby," Eleanor admitted. "It's not Liam's."

The floor felt unsteady beneath her. "Then why—"

Eleanor met her gaze, something resembling remorse flickering in her green eyes. "Because I wanted him back."

Mia's hands clenched into fists. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Eleanor nodded. "I do. And that's why I'm here." She pulled out a folded piece of paper and set it on the table. "This is my confession. Everything I told you was a lie. If you still love him, don't let me be the reason you walk away."

Mia stared at the letter, her emotions a whirlwind of anger, relief, and uncertainty.

After a long pause, she looked up.

Eleanor was already gone.

The next day, Mia found herself back at the old oak tree.

And there, as if the universe had been waiting for this moment, stood Liam.

Their eyes met, and for the first time in weeks, Mia saw the man she had fallen for—the man who had chosen to stay.

Slowly, she approached.

"Eleanor told me everything," she said softly.

Liam exhaled, his shoulders sagging. "Mia, I—"

She held up a hand. "I need to ask you something."

He nodded. "Anything."

She hesitated, then met his gaze. "If she hadn't told me the truth, would you still have chosen me?"

Liam's expression was pained. "Mia, I was already choosing you. Every single day."

For a long time, she just looked at him, trying to decide if she could believe him. If she could trust again.

Then, finally, she took his hand.

"I want to believe that," she whispered. "I really do."

Liam squeezed her fingers, his voice barely audible. "Then let me prove it."

And as the wind rustled through the old oak tree, Mia realized something.