History doesn't repeat itself

I sit in the heavy silence that hangs between us, fully aware of the weight of Liam’s qualms about our relationship. Our past, with its tangled web of emotions and consequences, threatens to unravel the present.

“History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes…” I finally break the silence, hoping to thaw the icicles that had formed between us.

Liam looks at me, his expression softening. “I’ve heard that line before… Mark Twain?”

“That’s right…” I reply, mustering a weak chuckle. “Since you’ve been placing too much importance on the past. Don’t you think those memories are actually a gift?”

“The gift of eternal pain, you mean? Of guilt? Of hate?” Liam chuckles bitterly. “I think those memories serve to remind us of who we are and make us realize the folly of being together, Liv. It’s like trying to merge oil with water—they never will.”