Chapter Eleven: Unsubscribed Hearts

The morning light spilled over Emery's desk, illuminating the half-finished draft of her latest column. Unsubscribed Hearts. The title felt fitting—like a declaration, a question, a plea.

She took a deep breath and hit send.

The words were out in the world now, raw and unfiltered. Vulnerable.

Liam was waiting for her outside the office when she stepped out. His smile was warm, but his eyes carried something heavier today.

"Talk to me," Emery said, sensing the storm.

He hesitated, then said, "It's your ex."

Emery's stomach twisted.

"Emily called me last night. She's upset — about the story, about us. She thinks you're moving on too fast. And…" Liam's voice faltered. "She wants answers."

Emery's heart pounded. Emily — the woman Liam had loved before, the one he'd never quite gotten over. Their presence had been a shadow over the last few weeks, growing longer.

"I didn't know," Emery whispered.

"Neither did I," Liam said, squeezing her hand. "But we need to face this."

Later that day, they met Emily at a quiet café, the air thick with tension.

Emily's eyes were fierce but hurt. "I'm not here to fight," she said, voice steady. "But I need to understand. Who is she? What do you want?"

Liam looked at Emery. "Emery and I… we're figuring it out. It's messy. It's real."

Emily nodded slowly. "I see that. But you're both going to get hurt."

"We already are," Emery admitted.

The conversation stretched long into the afternoon, peeling back old wounds and raw feelings.

Emily shared her heartbreak, the confusion of watching Liam move on.

Emery shared her fears — of being a replacement, of not being enough.

Liam listened, caught between two women he cared for deeply.

Afterward, Emery and Liam walked in silence.

"It's complicated," Emery said finally.

"Yeah," Liam agreed. "But maybe that's what makes it real."

She looked at him, searching.

"Are we ready for this? For all of it?"

He smiled, a little tired but certain. "I think we don't have a choice. Real love isn't tidy."

That night, Emery wrote the last lines of her column:

"Love isn't something you subscribe to once and forget about. It's a series of messy, beautiful, terrifying decisions. It's the courage to stay, to fight, to forgive — even when the algorithm tries to pull you away. And sometimes, it's about learning to unsubscribe from the past to make room for something new."

She hit publish and closed her laptop.

Liam was waiting on her balcony when she stepped outside, city lights stretching before them.

"Ready for the next chapter?" he asked.

She smiled, leaning into him. "As ready as I'll ever be."