Chapter 4

Ethan's expression shifted.

He let go of the suitcase and straightened up.

"Chloe, why are you being so combative tonight?"

"How did Mia wrong you? She booked the restaurant! She picked out your gifts! Just because of one cake where we forgot your allergy, you treat her like garbage?"

"Helped me?" I let out a dry laugh. "What did she help me with?"

"She planned our anniversary!"

"Was that anniversary for the two of you, or for me?"

"You—" He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Can you stop making mountains out of molehills? Mia and I are just friends! She’s your best friend! Why do you always twist things into something dirty?"

"Friends? Do friends talk behind my back in a hospital room with your mother?"

He blinked. "Talk about what?"

"The day I brought soup to the hospital, I heard it with my own ears. Your mom told Mia she wished Mia was your girlfriend."

Ethan stiffened.

Then he mumbled, "My mom was just joking. Mia didn't take it seriously... Besides, she went to visit my mom for your sake!"

"For my sake?" I repeated the words slowly, finding them absurd. "If it was for my sake, why didn't she invite me to go with her?"

Ethan went silent for a few seconds.

"I didn't want you overthinking things."

"Were you afraid I'd overthink, or did you know deep down how hurtful it was to me?"

He didn't answer.

I leaned down and zipped up the suitcase.

"Ethan, it’s been five years. You can't remember my favorite food. You can't remember my lethal allergy..."

"Yet you remember Mia’s weak stomach. You remember she loves mango crepes. You even remember she’s on a diet."

"That’s only because she talks about it all the time—"

"Because you spend more time with her than you do with me."

My words sliced through the room like a cold blade.

Ethan stood frozen, his mouth opening and closing without producing a sound.

After a long silence, he let out a heavy sigh, his tone softening.

"Fine, fine. I didn't think things through tonight. Don't leave. It's too late. We'll talk about this tomorrow."

I looked into his eyes. "Ethan, do you think I'm negotiating with you?"

"Then what do you want?"

"We're done. Let's break up."

Ethan blinked, his brows pulling together in disbelief.

"Chloe, are you seriously threatening to break up over this? Mia is your best friend—"

"Yes. Even you know she’s *my* best friend, not your girlfriend."

The room fell dead quiet.

Ethan stood there, his frustration turning into cold annoyance.

He stared at me for a moment before speaking.

"Fine. Go run home to your parents if you want. Cool off on your own."

He walked to the bedroom door, pulled it open, and glanced back at me.

"When you're ready to be rational, we'll talk."

He stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

I stood alone in the living room, feeling as if I was the crazy one throwing a pointless fit.

A quiet laugh escaped my throat.

The suitcase rested by my feet.

I pulled the handle up and walked out into the hallway.

As the elevator descended, my phone vibrated.

Ethan: [Text me when you get to your parents'. I'll call you tomorrow.]

I didn't reply.

Stepping out of the building, the midnight wind hit me.

For the first time, August air felt cold enough to make my teeth chatter.

Standing by the curb waiting for an Uber, my phone buzzed again.

Ethan: [Whatever. If you don't want to talk, don't. Get some sleep. Stop overthinking.]

*Stop overthinking.*

I stared at the screen, then slipped the phone deep into my pocket.