Chapter 3: The Morning After

I hung up the phone, turning down Ava’s offer to come over and keep me company.

Sadly, the memories from last night kept replaying in my mind.

The way his strong arms held me close, his warm breath against my skin, and the sweet, whispered promises that made the bed frame rattle all night.

I shook my head sharply, trying to push the thoughts away. I curled up on my bed, hugging my knees to my chest.

My mind kept flipping between the Ethan who used to be so kind to me when we were kids and the cold, careless Ethan from today.

I only managed to fall into a fitful sleep as dawn broke. Ethan hadn’t sent a single message all night.

Once, when I got drunk and disappeared for a few hours, Ethan had nearly lost his mind trying to reach me.

After that, he insisted we say goodnight every evening, just so he knew I was safe. It had become our habit, a small, comforting ritual.

It was funny how even habits built over years could be shattered in a single night. Maybe this was for the best. We were bound to drift apart eventually.

For a moment, I considered confronting him, even if it meant ruining my own reputation. However, my family’s business still relied on his father’s influence. I couldn’t afford to be reckless.

No, the best I could do was quietly pull away, bit by bit, until we became nothing more than distant memories to each other.

The next morning, I felt myself being pulled into a warm, firm embrace. I jolted awake, my heart racing.

The first thing I saw was the familiar curve of a defined jawline, the hint of stubble against smooth skin.

It was Ethan.

I had forgotten that he knew the passcode to my house and that no one, not even my parents or the housekeeper, Mrs. Triton, would stop him from coming in.

Noticing I was awake, Ethan chuckled softly, leaning in to blow gently into my ear.

I yelped, pushing him away and scrambling to the far side of the bed.

He followed, wrapping his arms around me from behind.

"What’s wrong? Don’t want me anymore?" he teased, his lips brushing my neck. "After the way you were moaning last night, don’t tell me you’re not up for another round."

I clamped my mouth shut, refusing to respond, and my entire body tensed against his touch.

Ethan sighed, pretending to be annoyed. "You didn’t even say goodnight to me last night. Do you know how worried that makes me? I’ll let it slide this time, but you still need to make it up to me. I think you should use that pretty little mouth of yours and—"

I shoved him off with all the strength I had, my heart pounding with a confusing mix of anger and betrayal.

Ethan’s expression darkened, clearly irritated. "What’s with the attitude? Is this about me not taking you to prom? About not being your date?"

I stayed silent, refusing to meet his gaze. Ethan smirked, assuming he had figured it out.

"Let me guess, Ava told you, right? You’re mad because I took Sylvia to the dance? Seriously? She didn’t have a date, and I was just helping her out. What’s there to be jealous about?"

Every word he said only made my blood boil, but I bit my tongue, unwilling to let him see how much he had hurt me. I threw off the covers and got out of bed, making my way downstairs without a word.

The house felt strangely empty with just Mrs. Triton moving quietly in the kitchen.

A moment later, Ethan followed me down, his face darkening as he realized I was still ignoring him. Normally, a cold shoulder from me would have set off a full-on silent war between us, but now, with Sylvia in the picture, he seemed more willing to tolerate my mood.

"Fine, fine. If you don’t want to talk, at least have some breakfast." He shoved a plate of maple pancakes toward me. "You always said you loved the ones my chef makes."

I pushed the plate away, reaching for the simple bowl of cereal Mrs. Triton had set out for me instead.

Ethan’s jaw tightened, his forced smile freezing on his face.

"What’s your problem?" he snapped, his voice sharp.

I let out a long, tired sigh. "I’m not upset. Why don’t you go hang out with Sylvia?"

Ethan scoffed, slamming the pancake plate onto the table, the sound of shattering porcelain echoing through the kitchen.

"So, this really is about Sylvia, huh?" he spat. "You think you have a right to act all hurt? Just because we slept together once, you think that gives you a say in my life?"

The shattered pieces scattered across the tile floor, and I flinched at the sound, my whole body trembling. Hot tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them.

Ethan’s eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting my sudden breakdown.

"Hey, hey. Don’t cry," he muttered, reaching out awkwardly. "Did I scare you? I didn’t mean to—"

However, before he could finish, his phone buzzed on the counter. He glanced at the screen, and his expression instantly hardened. Without another word, he straightened, clearly more interested in his phone than my tears.

"I have something important to take care of," he said, grabbing his jacket. "Just... calm down. Not everything is about you, alright?"

With that, he walked out, leaving me alone in the echoing silence of the empty kitchen.