Chapter 2

I buried myself in work at the office for hours.

It wasn't until the floor lights began turning off automatically that I realized it was already nine in the evening.

A coworker packing up nearby praised my dedication.

"Ever since you started looking after your boyfriend, it's been ages since we've seen you work this late."

I let out a quiet sigh. I couldn't tell her that I was intentionally drowning myself in spreadsheets just to stop the image of Ethan wiping Chloe's tears from looping in my mind.

I checked my phone. A single message from Ethan popped up on Snapchat, asking why I wasn't home yet.

Back when his condition was at its worst, if he woke up and didn't see me, he would spiral into a full-blown panic.

Dozens of calls, non-stop texts, sometimes even showing up at my office with bloodshot eyes, shaking violently.

Today, throughout an entire afternoon, he had sent only one casual text.

I locked my screen, gathered my coat, and left with my colleague.

When I reached the apartment, the living room light was on.

Takeout containers sat on the kitchen counter, completely cold.

Ethan was nowhere to be seen.

I dialed his FaceTime.

He answered almost instantly, his voice soft and gentle.

"Why didn't you text me back?"

"My dad wasn't feeling well, so I came over to his place to take care of him tonight."

"I packed your dinner and left it on the counter. Make sure you eat."

I said nothing, my eyes drifting over the containers.

Ethan was severely allergic to eggplant. Yet the eggplant parmesan from the Italian restaurant was half-eaten.

Someone had shared that dinner with him.

The lighting on his end of the screen was dim.

I stared at Ethan's handsome face for a long time. Just as I parted my lips to speak, a woman’s coquettish giggle drifted through the speaker.

"Your hands are so cold..."

It was Chloe's voice.

I knew she made that sound on purpose. That was just who she was.

Loud, arrogant, and recklessly entitled.

That was why, years ago, the moment she found out I had a quiet crush on Ethan, she immediately confessed to him first to snatch him away.

That was why, after faking her death for three years, she was still brazenly confident that Ethan would drop everything for her.

And that was why she deliberately made her presence known to me, the current girlfriend.

The silence between us turned suffocatingly awkward.

"Nora, don't get the wrong idea," Ethan scrambled to explain, panic bleeding into his tone. "That was just... the TV in my dad's room."

A sharp, stabbing pain twisted in my chest.

I could clearly see the headboard behind him belonged to a luxury hotel room, not his father's house.

But what was the point of calling him out?

"Right."

"I'm tired. I'm hanging up."

Sensing the dead chill in my voice, Ethan rubbed his neck awkwardly.

"Get some rest, then. When I get home tomorrow, there's something I need to talk to you about..."

Was he finally going to confess?

I let out a bitter, silent laugh.

Opening the takeout, I tried to force down a bite.

But the rice was stiff and cold, and the congealed grease made my stomach churn violently.

I dry-heaved over the sink.

Turning back, I threw the entire bag of ruined food straight into the trash.

A sudden thought crossed my mind.

I pulled out my phone and logged into a burner Instagram account I had created years ago, back when I was secretly in love with Ethan from afar.

I refreshed the feed. Sure enough, a post appeared that was hidden from my primary account.

Ethan had posted a photo of his hand intertwined with Chloe's.

The caption read:

So glad I waited for you.

Posted this afternoon.

Right after I had walked out the door.

The comments section was an avalanche of congratulations.

True love always finds a way back! Wishing you two eternal happiness!

That was Ethan's best friend. The very guy who had once gotten down on his knees, begging me through tears to climb onto the ledge and pull Ethan down before he jumped.

I knew it had to be Chloe. The second she came back, you're completely healed.

That was Ethan's therapist. The man who had sternly told me that healing Ethan required nothing but boundless, selfless patience from me.

Now that Chloe is back, when are you breaking things off with that other girl?

That was Ethan's father. The same man who had once wept at Ethan's bedside, calling me the savior of their entire family.

It turned out everyone knew Chloe was his one true love.

I was nothing more than a convenient, disposable crutch to lean on through their tragedy.

I bit down on my lip until it bled, my trembling fingers sliding across the glass screen.

Right beneath Ethan's father's comment, I typed a reply:

We're breaking up right now.

I step aside to fulfill your wishes.

Dropping the phone, I finally collapsed onto the floor, curling into a ball as the dam broke, sobbing until I couldn't breathe.