Chapter 3

2

Ethan’s face flushed red, then drained of color again.

"I accepted that you couldn't introduce me to your parents," I said, my voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "But why did you lie to me for seven years?"

"Clara..."

"You said you didn't have a habit of posting."

I cut him off.

"Then what were those hundreds of posts?"

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

I grabbed his phone from the nightstand, unlocked it, pulled up his private Instagram grid, and shoved it in front of his face.

"Did your parents force you to post these, too?"

His fingers twitched, wanting to grab the phone back, but I held onto it.

"Tell me, Ethan."

I locked my eyes onto his.

"What was I to you during these seven years?"

I threw the phone back onto his chest.

"Actually, don't answer that. I don't care anymore."

I slid out of bed. My legs felt like jelly, and I had to steady myself against the nightstand for a second. He immediately got up and tried to grab my arm.

"Clara, please don't be like this. Let's sit down and talk."

"I'm going to work."

"You can't go to work in this state. Let me call your boss and get you a sick day."

"No need."

I grabbed my purse and walked out the door.

He kept calling my name behind me, but I never looked back.

The moment the elevator doors slid shut, I collapsed against the wall and finally let out a sob.

I sat on a bench in the park near my office building for hours.

My phone buzzed incessantly.

Ethan was calling, but I didn't answer.

His messages on Snapchat kept popping up:

*Clara, where are you?*

*Don't scare me like this.*

*I am so, so sorry.*

*Please come back, let's talk.*

*I swear I will handle this.*

*Clara, I'm begging you.*

I silenced my phone and opened my chats with my mom.

Just last week, she had sent me a message:

*Clara, sweetheart, what did Ethan say? When are our families going to meet? You’re not getting any younger, it’s time to settle down.*

My reply had been:

*Mom, he's just really busy with work. Let’s wait until this quarter is over.*

My mom had replied:

*Alright, alright. You know best. I just worry about you living out there all by yourself. It’s not easy, but having someone who truly cares for you makes all the difference.*

*Someone who truly cares for me.*

Oh, Ethan certainly cared.

He tracked my period better than I did. He would wake up in the middle of the night to prep a heating pad and make me hot cocoa.

He would stand in line for half an hour every Saturday morning just to get my favorite pastries.

I ended up calling in sick to work and went back to my apartment.

I sat on the couch until late afternoon. Ethan’s messages were still flooding my phone, but I was too drained to even read them.

Around four, my phone rang.

It wasn't Ethan. It was a delivery guy.

"Is this Clara Davis? I have a package for you. Are you home?"

"Yes, I am."

The delivery guy handed me a medium-sized, heavy box.

I checked the sender. It was Amazon.

I opened it. Inside was a sleek black box containing the latest iPhone model.

During dinner a few days ago, I had offhandedly mentioned that the new iPhone's camera looked amazing. He had looked at me and said nothing.

He was always like that.

He never said much, but he would quietly get things done.

That was why I had never doubted him.

How could a man who woke up early every Saturday to buy me breakfast be a liar?

How could a man who stayed up to hold a heating pad against my back be a scammer?

How could a man who remembered every single little thing I liked and never said no to me be a fraud?

Yet, that was exactly how he had fooled me for seven years.

After a long time, I took out my phone and called the delivery driver back.

"Hi, about the package you just dropped off. I got the wrong item. Can I return it?"

"As long as it's unopened, yes. You can just request a return on the app."

"Okay, thank you."

I taped the box back up.

Just then, the front door unlocked.

Ethan stood in the doorway, panting, sweat dripping from his forehead.

He must have run up the stairs. It was a five-story walk-up.

Seeing me, he let out a massive sigh of relief, leaning against the doorframe to catch his breath.

"Clara."

He walked in, his voice strained.

"You scared the hell out of me."

I didn't move.

He dropped to his knees in front of me, looking up at me with bloodshot eyes.

"I know I messed up, Clara. I shouldn't have lied to you. I shouldn't have kept this from you. But I swear, I don't love her. My parents forced me into it. They threatened to cut me off, they threatened their own lives... I really had no choice..."

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