Chapter 2

"Chloe, listen to me. It's completely normal for young couples to fight."

Ethan’s mother called me the morning after I moved back into my own tiny studio apartment.

"Mrs. Miller, we aren't just fighting. We broke up."

"Oh, come on, why talk about breaking up? You two have been together for five years. Ethan told me everything. It’s just a misunderstanding. Hailey is just a junior colleague at his firm. He has always treated her like a little sister."

A little sister. A little sister who wears his matching couple's windbreaker. A little sister who goes to the restaurant his girlfriend had been dying to try.

"Mrs. Miller, did he tell you he didn't even show up in Miami for the holidays?"

"He said there was traffic. He got delayed on the road."

"He was in California with Hailey. He never had any intention of coming to Miami."

There was a heavy pause on the other end of the line.

"Chloe, don't overthink things. Ethan isn't that kind of guy. You’re just being too narrow-minded. I’ve told you so many times, men have to socialize for work. You need to be more understanding."

Holding the phone, a wave of exhaustion washed over me.

"Mrs. Miller, I'm not being narrow-minded. I'm just done caring."

I hung up, and a stream of notifications popped up on my screen.

The first was from Amber, an acquaintance we both knew but weren't very close to:

"Chloe, Ethan mentioned you guys are having a rough patch? He seems really devastated. You two should talk it out. Five years of history is too precious to throw away."

The second was from Tyler, Ethan's college roommate:

"Hey, Chloe. Ethan is just terrible with his words, but he has a good heart. I’m sure he didn't mean any harm. Don't take it too hard on him."

The third was from Hailey:

"Chloe, I heard you and Ethan had a fight? The other day in California was really just a coincidence. Ethan just helped me drive for a bit. I bought that windbreaker online myself, it really has nothing to do with him. Please don't misunderstand, I've always seen Ethan as a brother."

It ended with a puppy-dog eyes emoji.

I took screenshots of all three messages and sent them to Maya.

Maya instantly replied with a voice note: "On the way? California to Miami is thousands of miles—she calls that on the way? And she bought the couple's windbreaker herself? Just to wear one? What is she doing with the other one, keeping it in a shrine?"

Before I could text back, another notification popped up.

It was from an unsaved number, formatted like a group message. Looking at our chat history, she seemed to be Hailey's coworker who had added me once but never spoke to me.

The message read: "Hailey, did that girl finally pack her bags and leave? Does this mean you’re finally official now? Hahaha."

Right after came a notification: "This message was deleted."

She had sent it to the wrong person.

I took a screenshot.

My finger hovered over the screen for three seconds before I saved the image to my camera roll.

Maya called me. "Why did you go quiet?"

"Someone just sent me a message."

"Who?"

"One of Hailey's coworkers. Sent by mistake. Asking if Hailey is finally 'official' now."

The line went dead quiet for a long time.

"Chloe, if you take this screenshot to Ethan, what do you think he’ll say? Take a guess."

I thought about it. "He’ll say they were just joking."

"And then?"

"And then he’ll say I'm too sensitive, taking a stupid joke so seriously."

"And then?"

"And then he'll ask me if I don't even trust him anymore."

Maya let out a dry laugh that sounded sadder than crying.

"Chloe, you've memorized his script better than a lawyer memorizes the law. Do you know what that means?"

"It means he has said it too many times."

"It means he trained you to never question him. Even when you have the evidence right in front of you, your first instinct isn't anger. It’s making up excuses for him."

I set my phone on the table, staring at the screenshot of the deleted message.

The coworker's profile picture was a cute, pink cartoon cat.

The person who sent that message probably never realized that on the other side of the screen, I was a real, breathing human being with feelings.

Maya's voice came through the speaker. "Are you crying?"

"No. I'm just wondering."

"About what?"

"When did I start believing that even being hurt was my own fault?"