Chapter 3

It was nearly one in the morning when I got home.

After washing up, my phone started blowing up with notifications.

Chloe had sent a string of texts, every single one loaded with exclamation marks.

[Did you see her Instagram?!]

[Scarlett just posted pictures with Ethan!]

[I swear he's using her 'illness' to live out his fantasy with her!]

I opened Instagram.

Scarlett had posted a carousel of nine photos from her party.

The center photo was of her and Ethan, taken inside her family's living room.

Ethan was holding her in his arms, the tenderness in his eyes practically spilling through the screen.

Her caption read:

[Thank you, hubby, for being there for every single one of my birthdays.]

The comment section was filled with replies calling them "couple goals" and "pure love."

Everyone was playing along with this grand performance. And I was the invisible bystander everyone chose to ignore.

What hurt the most was the way Ethan looked at Scarlett in that photo.

I knew that look all too well.

Five years ago, when he was chasing me, he used to look at me the exact same way.

Intense. Gentle. As if the entire world ceased to exist except for her.

I stared at the screen, zooming in on his face.

His eyes were filled with Scarlett's reflection. There wasn't room for another soul in his gaze.

A dazed thought crossed my mind: Did he ever truly love me?

Chloe texted again: [Are you okay?]

I typed a few words, deleted them, and typed again.

Finally, I just sent: [I'm fine.]

The next day, Ethan came back to our apartment.

"Scarlett found some old photos of Julian yesterday and spiraled," he explained. "Her emotions are completely volatile right now. Her doctor said this week is critical, and she can't be exposed to any more stress."

He paused, watching me carefully. "I'm going to stay at her place for the next week. Just until she stabilizes, then I'll come back."

He stood there, waiting for my reaction.

In the past, I would have cried, felt hurt, and asked, *What about me?*

Today, I merely nodded. "Okay."

Ethan visibly relaxed, letting out a relieved breath as he reached over to wrap an arm around my shoulder.

"I knew you'd understand, Nora. You're always so sensible."

I looked at him, feeling as though broken glass was lodged in my throat.

"Ethan."

"Let's break up."

His arm froze around my shoulders. He let out an exasperated sigh.

"Throwing another tantrum? Look, I know last night was hard on you. Go buy whatever you want today. Use my card. Consider it my way of making it up to you, alright?"

He looked down at me, his eyes filled with impatience and lazy dismissiveness.

He used to care when I was hurt. He used to panic and hold me.

Now, all he did was toss compensation at me, like throwing candy at a whining child.

"I want us to get our marriage license on my birthday," I said evenly. "And have the wedding."

The faint smile on Ethan’s face vanished.

"Nora, you know damn well I can't marry you right now. Just because of one stupid kiss last night, you're going to push me like this?"

His words hit me like heavy stones, and I braced myself for the pain.

To my surprise, I felt nothing.

"I'm staying at Scarlett's for the next few days," Ethan said, turning toward the door. "Take some time to cool off."

With that, he walked out without looking back.