Chapter 2

"Fifty bucks. Pay up, or I’m calling the cops," I said, checking the time on my phone.

"My time is valuable. I don't have time to play these childish games with you two."

Veronica's smug mask finally slipped. She stepped out from behind Ethan.

"Chloe, what is your problem? You've had a crush on Ethan for four years. Don't act like you didn't know what you were doing. We did you a favor by helping you move on, and you're not even grateful?"

"A favor?" I laughed. "Your favors are remarkably cheap."

"You—!"

"Veronica." Ethan pulled her back, his voice sounding exhausted. "Just stop."

Veronica slapped his hand away, her eyes immediately welling up with tears.

"Ethan Harrison, what is wrong with you? Are you taking her side now? Do you still have feelings for her?"

"No, I don't."

"Then why are you protecting her?"

"I am not protecting her," Ethan muttered, his voice low, as if he were trying to suppress his anger.

Watching them bicker in front of me felt incredibly boring.

I had seen this exact scene too many times. Every time they fought, it was over the same petty things. The only difference was that I used to be Ethan’s therapist. Now, I was the trigger.

I checked my phone again. "Venmo me. Make it quick."

Ethan took a deep breath and pulled out his phone. "I'll send it to you."

Veronica snatched his phone away. "Don't you dare! Why should we give her money? She came here on her own. Nobody forced her!"

"Veronica, stop acting crazy."

"I'm not crazy! Ethan, you tell me right now, whose side are you on?!"

I completely ran out of patience.

"You know what? Forget it." I tossed the bag onto the trash can in the hallway. "Consider the delivery fee a charity donation. After all, you two are pretty pathetic if you need to humiliate others just to feel alive."

With that, I turned around and walked away.

"Chloe!" Ethan called out behind me.

I didn't stop.

Veronica screamed louder, "Why are you calling her? Ethan, you're an asshole!"

Then came Ethan’s frantic explanations, Veronica’s crying, and finally, the slam of a door.

The hallway was long, and the thick carpet muffled my footsteps.

I walked fast, my heels sinking into the carpet like silent thunder.

By the time I reached the elevator, my hands started to shake. It wasn't from sadness. It was a delayed wave of pure fury.

Four years.

An entire four years.

In the fall of my freshman year, I saw Ethan for the first time in the library.

He was sitting by the window, the afternoon sun hitting his face like a painting.

I stood behind the bookshelf and stared at him for ten minutes, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Later, we joined the same college club, swapped Snapchats, and started talking more and more.

I thought we were friends. At least, during the brief periods when he broke up with his girlfriend, we were each other's go-to people.

He would call me at midnight, complaining about what Veronica had done, saying they weren't right for each other, saying he wanted to let go.

I stayed up with him until 3 AM, and then went to class the next morning with dark circles under my eyes.

When he got drunk, he called me. Without hesitation, I ordered an Uber, picked him up, and made sure he got back to his dorm safely.

He told me I was the only one who truly got him. He said I was the most important person in his college life.

And I believed him.

I actually believed him.

But every single time he got back with Veronica, he would block me.

The first time it happened, I cried all night.

By now, I had gotten used to it.

He would always add me back after a month or so, saying "Sorry, Veronica gets jealous."

And I would reply "It's fine," and continue being his emotional trash can.

I kept believing that one day, he would finally see me.

Instead, all I got was a phone call the night before graduation.

"It's completely over between her and me. Let's be together."