It was my first time staying over at my boyfriend’s place. In the middle of the night, his ex-girlfriend suddenly unlocked the front door and barged right into the bedroom. I could feel his body go completely rigid. The room plunged into a dead silence. "Ethan." Her voice was hoarse, thick with tears. Yet he acted as if nothing had happened. Pinning my wrists down, he casually leaned in and continued kissing me. 1 Bang! The front door slammed shut exactly as I expected, the sound echoing endlessly in the quiet night. I heard my own strained voice ask, "How does she know your door code..." Ethan paused, then continued kissing my jaw, his voice so light it was almost a whisper. "After we broke up... I forgot to change it." "Is that so?" I instinctively turned my face away, dodging his touch. He froze for a second, then cupped my face, his thumb brushing against my skin as he offered a careless promise. "It's the truth." Meeting his pitch-black eyes—which held absolutely no trace of lust—I suddenly couldn't find the words to say anything at all. In a daze, my mind drifted to Mia, the ex-girlfriend who had just left. This afternoon, she had deliberately sent me a harassing text message: “He’s just my leftovers. Do you want to bet? If I just crook my finger, he’ll come running right back to me.” Ethan had been sitting right next to me when I received it. Seeing the message, his expression remained completely indifferent, as if it had nothing to do with him. I was the only one silently seething. It wasn't that I was genuinely afraid of Ethan being stolen away. I wouldn't get jealous over an ex's baseless provocation or question my relationship with him over it. I just felt a little defensive on his behalf. And... my heart ached for him. Later, just as I was about to say something, Ethan suddenly leaned in and kissed me without a word. His voice was husky, muffled, and inexplicably coaxing. "Babe... don't go home tonight." Ethan usually had a very cold, aloof personality. We rarely even kissed. This was the first time he had ever called me "babe" with such intimacy, the first time he had made such a physical demand. I didn't refuse. I just didn't expect Mia to walk in on us. Her face had turned deathly pale. She even looked a bit pitiful. But throughout the entire ordeal, Ethan never once glanced at her. Was he too afraid to look... Or couldn't he bear to? A sudden crack of thunder brought my thoughts snapping back to reality. A bright flash of lightning streaked past the window, illuminating Ethan’s pale, cold face. "It's raining," I murmured unconsciously. Ethan abruptly went still. He darted a quick glance out the window, his indifferent eyes flickering with emotions I couldn't read. I stared at him blankly. Having been together for a while now, no matter how well he hid it, I could easily see through the look in his eyes. He was worried. Worried about Mia, who might be out there getting drenched in the rain. And he was regretting. Regretting that he was spending tonight with me. 2 A chilling sensation started in my chest and instantly swept through my entire body. My fingertips trembled as I violently shoved him away. Ethan snapped out of his daze and shifted his gaze back to me. I saw my own pathetic, disheveled reflection in his pupils and lowered my head. "Go wait outside. I need to get dressed." A complex look crossed his face, but he didn't say anything. He left the room in silence. When I finished getting ready and walked out of the bedroom, I saw Ethan standing by the front door. He held an umbrella in one hand and his phone in the other, dialing a number over and over. As the automated voice repeatedly informed him that the other party's phone was turned off, the anxiety and agitation on his face grew undeniable. I stared at him, numb. I took a step, didn't notice what was in front of me, and tripped. My knee smashed brutally against the sharp corner of the coffee table. The bone-deep pain made me gasp. Not wanting Ethan to notice, I swallowed the pain and quickly sat down on the sofa nearby. Hearing the commotion, Ethan turned his head hesitantly. When he saw me, his thin lips pressed into a tight line. It took him a long time to finally speak. "The rain is too heavy. Her mental state wasn't great when she left. I can't let anything happen to her." A piercing pain radiated from my knee. I bit my lip, a plea almost slipping past my teeth: Can you just not go? "I'm sorry, Chloe." He didn't hesitate for a second. The last few strings holding my sanity together completely snapped. The last shred of pride in my heart crumbled. I forced myself to stand up and limped toward him, tears instantly blurring my vision. "Ethan, you really do owe me an apology." I took a deep breath, haphazardly wiping my tears away with the back of my hand. "If you never let her go, why did you even get together with me?" "Am I just a convenience? A rebound to pass the time?" When I said the word "rebound," my voice choked up. But I still looked up at him, stubbornly wanting an answer I already knew. Suddenly, my balance gave out, and I swayed to the side. Ethan caught me by the waist with quick reflexes. "What happened to your leg?" I looked at him and said nothing. Ethan’s eyes darkened. Without a word, he scooped me up into his arms and set me down on the sofa. After grabbing the first-aid kit, he slowly rolled up my pant leg. The careful, gentle way he did it made me freeze for a moment. My right knee was completely swollen, and a large patch of skin was scraped raw. Bright red blood was trailing down the curve of my calf. It looked gruesome. Even I didn't realize it was this bad. Ethan’s frown deepened. He took out some antiseptic to clean the wound, his voice raspy. "Bear with it." The next second, a stinging cold hit my knee. The pain was so sharp that I instantly clamped down on his arm, my nails digging deep into his skin. Ethan didn't make a sound, just let me grip him. When he finally finished cleaning the wound, he pulled out a tube of ointment, but it was clearly empty. "I'll go downstairs and buy some." He stood up. I fiercely grabbed his arm, my eyes turning red. He paused, his long eyelashes casting shadows over his eyes, looking almost tender. "There's a pharmacy right downstairs. Ten minutes, max. I'll be right back." 3 Three minutes, five minutes... Ten minutes... When I checked my phone again, I realized I had been waiting for almost three hours. My knee had long since gone numb from the pain. My throat was suddenly incredibly dry. There was a glass of water not too far away. I lifted my knee, moving with stiff, sluggish motions. A seemingly simple task took me nearly three minutes to accomplish. When I finally picked up the glass and took large, desperate gulps, I realized the hot water Ethan had poured for me before leaving had gone completely cold. Just wait a little longer. Just a little longer. When another hour passed, I started calling and texting Ethan repeatedly. He didn't answer a single call. He didn't reply to a single text. The look in my eyes slowly died, settling into a heavy, ashen calmness. I don't know how much time passed before I received another harassing text from Mia. It was two lines of text and a photo of Ethan brewing hot tea in a hotel kitchen. In the photo, Ethan was completely soaked—both his hair and his clothes. He had taken an umbrella when he left, yet he was still drenched. Even though he looked like a mess, the expression on his face in the photo was relaxed and peaceful. “He told me he hasn't touched you yet. Tonight was supposed to be your first time, right?” “Heh. When he and I first got together...” 4 It was 3:00 AM when Ethan finally returned. With a click, the wall sconce by the entryway flicked on. The dim, yellow light spilled downward, casting shadows over his pale, emotionless face. "Why are you still awake?" He looked surprised to see me sitting rigidly on the sofa. My hand tightened around my phone, and I watched him in silence. "I waited in line to buy a cheesecake for our breakfast tomorrow." He lifted the box in his hand and calmly placed it in the fridge. "You know that bakery only opens in the middle of the night. The line is pretty crazy." His tone was as indifferent as ever, acting as if absolutely nothing had happened. Seeing that I wasn't speaking, Ethan frowned slightly and slowly walked over to the sofa. "What's wrong?" He stared at me for a long moment before carefully lifting my leg onto his lap. He lowered his head to inspect it. "Does your knee still hurt?" From this angle, I could see his pitch-black hair brushing against the nape of his neck, smooth and glossy. Like it had just been washed and blow-dried. The words Mia had sent suddenly rushed back into my ears, piercing and arrogant, as if exploding right next to me. Embarrassment, humiliation, and rage utterly annihilated all my defenses. Suppressing the tremors racking my body, I pulled my leg off his lap, deliberately avoiding his intimate gesture. Ethan paused, momentarily stunned. "It's too late today. My knee is injured, so I'll borrow your sofa for the night. Tomorrow, I'll wire you the money for the stay." Ethan's eyes finally darkened, and he looked at me with a chilling expression. "Chloe, what exactly are you throwing a tantrum about?" "A tantrum?" I repeated, looking up at him. "Ethan, where exactly did you go tonight?" Ethan's eyelashes fluttered, but he didn't meet my eyes. "I went to buy you medicine, and then I went to wait in line for the cake." "So, where is the medicine?" Ethan didn't speak. "Tonight, I called you exactly fifty-eight times and sent you one hundred and five text messages." "Before you left, you poured me a glass of hot water. You said it would take ten minutes to cool down, just in time for me to drink it when you got back." "I don't know if she's okay or not, but my leg... it hurts a lot." The room was dim. Ethan's face was practically devoid of emotion, save for his fingers slightly curling, rubbing the seam of his pants back and forth. That meant he was irritated and wanted a cigarette. I blinked, forcing down the burning sensation in my eyes. I stared at his aloof face, biting my lip until I tasted blood, before finally forcing the words out. "Ethan, let's break up." Almost instantly, Ethan grabbed my wrist, his voice deep. "I refuse." 5 "I can explain," he said. "The medicine fell into a storm drain on the way to buy the cake. My phone got smashed too, so I couldn't receive any messages." Dead silence filled the air. I just stared straight at him. Ethan's frown deepened. He raised a hand, roughly unbuttoned the top of his shirt, and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it. I had tried to persuade him to quit smoking many times before, but he never listened. Makes sense. Why would he care about anything I had to say? It wasn't until the smell of menthol smoke dissipated that I heard his hoarse voice. "I'm sorry." "If you're apologizing for abandoning me to go find her, I don't accept it," I said softly. Ethan looked stunned. This was the first time I had ever read defeat in his expression. "She is, after all... an old college classmate." "Just a college classmate?" I tried my best to regulate my emotions, asking in the calmest voice possible. Ethan was silent for a long time before answering. "A few days ago, her parents called me. They said she bought a plane ticket and flew here all by herself. If something happened to her, I wouldn't know how to explain it to her family." "Chloe, I've never thought about getting back together with her, you—" Before he could finish, I pulled up the harassing texts and photos Mia had just sent me and shoved the screen in his face. He froze. "If you just went to find her, why are your clothes and hair all wet? What happened between you two?" "If you never thought about getting back together with her, why did you feel the need to prove your loyalty by telling her you hadn't touched me yet?" I tried so hard to hold it in, but my voice still cracked with a hoarse, crying tone. "Ethan, what am I to you?" Looking at his pale, silent face, seemingly unable to offer a rebuttal, I suddenly felt the urge to laugh. In a flash, so many details I had deliberately ignored in the past became crystal clear. Ethan was the one who pursued me first. He had transferred to corporate headquarters two years ago. We had handled the same project several times and were surprisingly in sync at work. We often pulled all-nighters together, and the dynamic between us had subtly shifted. So when he made the first move, I didn't think about it for long and quickly agreed. During our year together, apart from his somewhat aloof personality, Ethan treated me very well. He never deliberately hid his past either. I knew he had an ex-girlfriend of five years. They were each other's first loves and broke up a year after college. To say I didn't care at all would be a lie, but holding onto it felt like I was just punishing myself. I had asked him why they broke up. Ethan's answer was simple and calm: "She and I weren't suitable." At the time, he had added, "Chloe, I think you and I are very suitable." In all fairness, he sounded very sincere. But my heart had sunk like a stone. The word "suitable" should be a compliment for people in love, but an inexplicable wave of irritation had sprouted in my chest. Did he pursue me because he liked me, or just because I was "suitable"? Perhaps sensing my emotional shift, Ethan didn't say anything more at the time. He just let out a low sigh, pressed his lips to mine, and said somewhat helplessly, "Chloe, don't overthink it." As our breathing grew heavier, I naturally wrapped my arms around his neck. But Ethan abruptly pushed me away, lowering his gaze, lost in thought. After a long silence, he somewhat stiffly reached out and ruffled my hair. "Chloe, we have a long future ahead of us." I didn't think much of it then. I assumed he was respecting me, wanting to save the best for after we were engaged. Until Mia showed up. The signs were all there from the start. I was just too in love with him. Love filtered everything out, deluding me into thinking he liked me just as much. Or maybe it wasn't even 'like'. It was just pure, simple suitability. The moment I realized this, I felt as naked and humiliated as if I'd been stripped in public. This humiliation was delivered by his ex-girlfriend, but Ethan had been the one to hand her the knife, eager to please her. I couldn't even imagine what Ethan was like when he was with Mia. Was he as cold and reserved as he was with me? Probably not. 6 I calmly texted my best friend, Harper, telling her Ethan and I had broken up, and asked if she had time to come pick me up tomorrow. I could tell she was shocked, but she didn't ask questions. She just sent a "hug" emoji. She said: I'll come get you. The moment I put my phone down, the world spun, and I found myself scooped up into Ethan's arms. I froze for a few seconds before my face turned ice-cold. "What are you—" Ethan spoke with an unquestionable tone: "Your knee is injured, and the sofa is too small. It's better if you sleep in the bedroom." I pressed my lips tightly together, glaring at him with defensive, wary eyes. Ethan's expression shifted, but he quickly covered it up. "I'll sleep on the sofa tonight. I won't... do anything to you." I paused. I suddenly realized how ridiculous my reaction was. Ethan never liked me to begin with. His attempt to be intimate with me earlier was just him acting out after seeing Mia's provocative text. My defensiveness was completely pointless. "Put me down. I can walk by myself, thank you," I said, looking into his eyes, my tone unnervingly calm. When our eyes met, I thought I saw a flash of hurt in his. I figured I must be seeing things. Ethan didn't say anything else. He set me down in silence, and I didn't look at him again as I limped toward the bedroom. Just as the door clicked shut, I heard his raspy voice. "Chloe." I stopped. Ethan was quiet for a moment before pulling a small box from his pocket and opening it. Inside was a delicate women's ring. "Mia threw it into a storm drain. It was pouring rain, and there were no streetlights. My phone broke by accident. I looked for a long time, and I got soaked. I was afraid you'd overthink it, so I went to a hotel to dry my clothes first." He paused, his breathing seemingly heavier. "She was frantically demanding to know if I was going to propose to you, asking why I touched you. Everything was just chaos in that moment. I don't even remember what I told her." He pressed his lips together, his voice hoarse, but I clearly heard a faint trace of regret in it. "Mia's personality is completely different from yours. She was like this in college—reckless and wild. She won't stop until she turns someone else's world upside down." In college... Those words made my heart physically clench. That was a territory I could never, ever reach. It belonged exclusively to their past. "I've already deleted her number and blocked her. Tomorrow I'll explain things to her parents. They won't bother me about her anymore." I looked up into his eyes, listening to him promise, word by word: "Chloe, she and I are in the past." Perhaps because he didn't get a response for so long, Ethan's eyelashes trembled slightly, and his lips lost a bit more color. It took a long time before he softly said, "Get some rest." I didn't say anything. I just watched quietly as he closed the door. Lying in bed, I closed my eyes but couldn't fall asleep. My mind was a chaotic mess. After hearing those words and seeing that ring, it was impossible to say I felt absolutely nothing. But two images kept flashing back and forth in my mind. One was when Ethan was driving me home early in our relationship. He had suddenly grabbed my hand, his usually cold features softening as he earnestly asked if I wanted to be his girlfriend. The other was Ethan unhesitatingly abandoning me to go find Mia. Can we really... just move past this? Even if things are truly over between them, can my heart move past it? When I woke up the next day and walked out of the bedroom, the first thing I saw was an unopened tube of ointment resting quietly on the table. A belated tube of ointment. I lowered my eyes, ignoring Ethan's slightly complicated gaze, and walked straight toward the front door. The moment my hand touched the doorknob, the door suddenly swung open. Mia's bright, arrogant face barged right into my line of sight.
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