To celebrate Stella Montgomery’s promotion and raise, Ethan Wright took the two of us high-altitude skydiving. I never expected our parachutes to get tangled in mid-air. Without a second of hesitation, Ethan cut my parachute strap. It caused me to descend entirely too fast, and the brutal impact of the landing shattered my heel ligaments, forcing me to say goodbye to my figure skating career forever. I asked Ethan why he didn’t save me. He held a terrified, crying Stella in his arms, comforting her flawlessly, before replying to me with chilling coldness: "It was Stella's first time skydiving. She has no experience. Of course I had to save her first. Besides, you're fine. Why are you throwing such a massive tantrum?" I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I simply went home and wrote the incident down in my blue leather journal. This was the thirtieth time I had forgiven Ethan Wright. 1 "Maya Caldwell, right? I heard you practically free-fell from fifty feet up." "I don't know whether to call you incredibly lucky or just insanely tough. You actually walked into the hospital by yourself. Thank God it's just torn ligaments." The ER doctor shook his head in disbelief, muttering as he applied the cooling ointment to my foot. I offered a bitter smile. Stella had started crying before her feet even touched the grass. Ethan had been by her side the entire time, speaking in soft, gentle whispers. From beginning to end, he hadn't looked at me once. My right ankle was swollen to twice its normal size, but I couldn't feel the pain. "Doctor, how long will it take to heal?" His expression turned serious. "It won't take too long to recover, but even when it's completely healed, there will be lingering joint weakness. You likely won't be able to perform any high-impact, flexible movements ever again." "It's a real shame. You're so young." With a look of deep pity, the doctor sighed heavily and left the room. The World Figure Skating Championships were just around the corner. I had been preparing for this for three years. I trained relentlessly every single day, accumulating countless bruises on my body, all just to secure a top spot on the podium. But the doctor's words were a death sentence for my career. Years of blood, sweat, and tears vanished into thin air. I sat frozen on the hospital bed, my body instantly drained of all its strength. Right then, Ethan walked into the room, with Stella following closely behind him. He looked at me with a face full of manufactured worry. "Maya, why didn't you tell me you were coming to the hospital? You had me looking everywhere for you." I unconsciously gripped the metal bedrail. My knuckles turned white. Ethan was the skydiving club’s ace instructor. He was fully capable of perfectly resolving any mid-air entanglement. But he chose his "white moonlight" without a second thought. Even now, his words from the drop zone echoed in my mind. "It was Stella's first time skydiving. She has no experience. Of course I had to save her first. Besides, you're fine. Why are you throwing such a massive tantrum?" But the truth was, he could have saved both me and Stella. And I wouldn't have been injured at all. Seeing my lack of response, Ethan stepped closer and reached for my hand. I dodged his touch. He froze, his face instantly darkening. "I said I was sorry, okay? I'm apologizing to you. Are you satisfied now?" "Every time something minor happens, you give me the silent treatment and throw a fit. It gets exhausting for me too, you know." Ethan's words were like a needle, violently stabbing into my heart. He had no idea that the consequences of his "minor thing" meant I could never be an athlete again. Stella put on a pitiful, teary-eyed expression. "I'm so sorry, Maya. This is all my fault. You can ask me for any compensation you want, just please don't blame Ethan." Before I could even open my mouth. Ethan immediately shifted back to comforting her. "Stella, you're too kind. It's not your fault, you don't need to apologize to her." Watching their sickeningly intimate display, a heavy wave of grievance washed over me. Somehow, I was the one in the wrong. My face remained perfectly calm. "Can you two leave? I'm tired and I want to rest." Stella looked awkward, then suddenly clutched her chest, her face twisting in pain. "Ethan... my chest hurts so much." Ethan panicked. He quickly supported her weight and practically carried her out of the room, shouting loudly for a nurse. His frantic anxiety was a stark contrast to the cold annoyance he had just shown me. It was like looking at two completely different people. The next day, I went back to our apartment and opened the blue journal. Every time Ethan did something that profoundly disappointed me, I wrote it down. Then, I would forgive him and pretend nothing happened. The day the journal was full would be the day I finally left him. There were only three pages left. Not long after, the sound of a key turning in the lock echoed from the front door. It was Ethan. Seeing me sitting in the living room, his tone was slightly panicked. "Why didn't you call me when you were discharged?" He unnaturally adjusted his jacket collar, as if trying to hide something. But I had already seen the faint smear of red lipstick on his shirt. "I figured you were busy," I said flatly. At that moment, my best friend Harper texted me. Ethan's eyes fell on my glowing phone screen. He looked confused. "Maya, when did you change your lock screen? Hasn't it always been that photo of us?" Every time I forgave Ethan... I stripped a little piece of him out of my life. That way, when the time came to leave, it wouldn't feel like I was losing everything all at once. "I'd used that photo for too long," I said expressionlessly. "I just wanted a change of mood." Ethan sensed that something was off. His face softened. He reached out and grabbed my hand, his voice dipping into an intimate, gentle tone. "Maya, I know what I said yesterday was harsh. It won't happen again. Forgive me, please?" He was always like this. He genuinely believed that the moment he apologized, everything was magically fixed. I pulled my hand back and gave a detached nod. "Okay." Ethan frowned slightly, clearly unsatisfied with my lukewarm reaction. If this were any other day, he would have lost his patience. But this time, he actually tried to flatter me. "Haven't you always wanted to drive up to the historic St. Jude's Mission in the mountains to light a candle? I'll take a day off work and drive you up there." Harper had once told me that whoever lights a candle at that historic mission with a sincere heart gets their wishes granted. I used to beg Ethan to take me. But he would just look at me with intense annoyance. "That stuff is a complete tourist trap. Only idiots believe in it. You're a grown woman, why are you so childish?" But then, his white moonlight, Stella, returned from out of state. I never brought the mission up again. "My foot is injured, it's not convenient," I replied. "Maybe next time." Ethan looked disappointed, but he didn't push it. He tossed his jacket onto the sofa and walked into the bathroom to shower. A few minutes later, his phone buzzed with a text notification. Curious, I picked it up. It was from Stella. "Ethan, I'm all ready! When are you coming to pick me up?" I swiped the screen, wanting to see what they had talked about earlier. But I hit a lock screen. The passcode had been changed. It was no longer my birthday. I let out a self-deprecating laugh and placed the phone exactly where I found it. Ethan walked out wrapped in a towel, water droplets still clinging to his hair. He checked his phone, then frantically started throwing on his clothes. "Maya, there's an emergency at the club. I'll be back as soon as I handle it." He tossed the excuse over his shoulder and rushed out the door without looking back. I sat there in a daze for a long time. It wasn't until the clinic called to remind me about my bandage change that I finally snapped out of it. I had no appetite. I called an Uber and went to the clinic alone. Before changing the dressing, I had to undergo a painful physical therapy massage. Seeing that I was alone again, the doctor didn't ask any questions. Right then, Stella sent me a photo. She was linking arms intimately with Ethan. The background was the iconic bell tower of St. Jude's Mission. A minute later, the photo was un-sent. I pretended I never saw it, but my entire body felt like it had been plunged into an ice bath. As soon as I got home, Stella posted on her Instagram story. It was a photo of Ethan kneeling in front of the altar, hands clasped together, looking like he was praying deeply for something. The caption read: "I never believed in fate, but right now, you are my god." I knew Stella did it on purpose. I thought I was completely numb to it by now, but my mind was still a chaotic mess. I leaned back against the sofa and fell into a groggy sleep. In my haze, I felt someone gently stroking my cheek. I opened my eyes to see Ethan. He was pulling a warm blanket over my shoulders. "Maya, why are you sleeping out here? You'll catch a cold." "Are you done with the club emergency?" I asked flatly. He didn't answer. He just looked at me with deep, manufactured affection. "Guess what I did today?" I forced a tight smile, pretending I didn't know, and shook my head. Ethan pulled a small, golden Saint Christopher medal from his pocket, looking incredibly proud of himself. "I drove all the way up to the mission to get you a blessed protection charm. The priest said that whoever wears this is guaranteed a safe, long, and healthy life." "This way, we can grow old together." I stared at the trinket in his hand. It looked incredibly familiar. Harper had once complained to me about a similar situation. Her ex had come back from a "business trip" and gifted her a blessed charm from a famous church. Later, she found out he had bought it for three dollars at a gas station souvenir stand on his way home. She fought with him for days over it. I had been the one to comfort her, telling her it was the thought that counted. I never expected something so utterly ridiculous to happen to me. Thinking about Stella's Instagram post, I lowered my eyes, my fingers gripping the fabric of my dress tightly. Ethan didn't notice my silence. He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. "Tomorrow is our three-year anniversary. I managed to get a reservation at that French restaurant you've been dying to go to. Are you happy?" I thought he had forgotten. If this were the past, I would have been thrilled. I would have thrown my arms around his neck and acted like a giddy little girl. But now, my heart felt absolutely nothing. After dinner, Ethan seemed exhausted. He collapsed into bed and fell into a deep sleep within minutes. I pulled out the blue journal. I stared at the second-to-last page for a long time, but ultimately decided not to write today's events down. The next day, I made a point to wear the sapphire blue dress Ethan had bought me. He smiled like a lovesick fool as he helped me into the passenger seat. But when we arrived at the restaurant doors, I saw Stella standing there. "Ethan! You took so long." Stella pouted, treating me like I was invisible as she immediately grabbed Ethan's wrist and swung it playfully. Seeing my face drop, Ethan looked incredibly guilty and scrambled to explain. "Maya, Stella has always wanted to try this place. When she heard we got a table, she begged to tag along. I didn't have a chance to tell you." Stella smiled, but her eyes were full of mockery. "Maya is so generous. I'm sure she doesn't mind, right?" I knew arguing was pointless. It would only end with me getting hurt. I just nodded in agreement. We sat down at our reserved table. The waiter handed the menus to Ethan and Stella, asking, "What can I get for you two this evening?" Stella was dressed to the nines, dripping in expensive, flashy jewelry. Compared to her, I looked like a plain, simple assistant tagging along with a wealthy couple. It was no wonder the waiter mistook them for the couple celebrating. Stella looked incredibly smug. She started ordering dishes without asking me, and Ethan just watched her, his eyes full of absolute indulgence. I sat there expressionless. My soul was already dead. The dinner was suffocatingly awkward. I completely lost my appetite. I just sat there, waiting for the torture to end. Suddenly, my mom called. I reached to answer it, but Stella snatched my phone out of my hand. "The restaurant has a strict no-phone policy. You're going to ruin the ambiance for the other guests." I was instantly furious. My mom would never call me during dinner unless it was an absolute emergency. As I reached to snatch it back, Stella purposely loosened her grip. The phone slipped from her fingers and splashed directly into her bowl of hot bisque, splattering soup onto her face. Ethan shot up from his chair, glaring at me furiously. "Stella was just trying to give you a polite reminder! Do you have no basic manners?! If you burned her face, I swear to God I would never forgive you!" I desperately reached into the bowl to grab my phone, but the screen was already completely black. It was dead. Seeing that I was ignoring him, Ethan’s rage flared even hotter. "Apologize to Stella right now!" I slowly raised my head, looking at him in a daze. Meeting his chilling, ruthlessly cold eyes, I felt like I was looking at a complete stranger. Once upon a time, he protected me so fiercely he wouldn't even let me wash dishes with cold water. Stella immediately played the innocent victim. "Ethan, please don't fight with Maya over me. It makes me feel so guilty." They looked deeply, tragically in love. It was like watching a cheap soap opera. Unable to stomach another second of it, I stood up and walked out of the restaurant. By the time I found an AT&T store and bought a new phone, several hours had passed. I hurriedly called my mom back. But the news on the other end of the line left me paralyzed on the sidewalk. "Sweetheart... Grandma is gone." I walked home like a lifeless puppet. Staring at the framed photo of me and my grandma on the windowsill, the tears finally broke through the dam. Because Stella had ruined my phone, and Ethan had delayed me. I missed my very last chance to say goodbye to my grandmother. A while later, Ethan rushed through the front door. "Maya, I'm so sorry, I had no idea that was going to happen—" A deep, visceral disgust flared in my chest. I cut him off. "Get out. I don't want to see your face right now." He froze, then quietly closed the bedroom door and left. Once my emotions finally settled, I opened the blue journal and completely filled out the second-to-last page. For the next few days, I didn't say a single word to Ethan. He was tactful enough to stay quiet, just silently keeping me company in the apartment. He didn't even go to the skydiving club. Then, out of nowhere, Ethan spoke up. "Maya, Stella is hosting a celebration party at a lounge this weekend. She said she wants you to come so she can personally apologize for what happened." It seemed they had coordinated their story. I didn't want to go, but Ethan kept relentlessly nagging me about it. Annoyed by his constant buzzing, and thinking it over, I decided to go just to make things clear once and for all. That night, Ethan took me to a VIP room at an upscale lounge. When he pushed the door open, Stella was sitting there with several of her friends. "Ethan! Finally! We were all waiting for you." Stella completely ignored my existence, grabbed Ethan's arm, and pulled him inside. There was absolutely zero intention of apologizing. I didn't want to cause a massive scene and embarrass Ethan in public, so I gritted my teeth and followed them in. After a few drinks and some karaoke, people started getting bored. Someone suggested playing a game of Dares with a deck of cards. Everyone agreed enthusiastically, and Ethan and I were pulled into the circle. For the first round, one of Stella's friends acted as the "Dealer." He looked around the room and commanded that whoever held the Ace of Spades and the 3 of Hearts had to make out for thirty seconds. The two cards just happened to be in Ethan and Stella's hands. My heart skipped a beat. The dare wasn't strictly mandatory. If you absolutely couldn't do it, you could just drink the penalty shots and move on to the next round. Stella looked at me with a perfectly crafted, awkward smile. Just as she reached for the penalty shots, Ethan stopped her hand. "You're allergic to alcohol, remember? You can't drink that." "But Maya will be so angry..." Ethan brushed it off casually. "It's just a stupid party game. Maya isn't that petty." They locked eyes, and then they kissed. They didn't stop at thirty seconds. They kissed for a full minute before reluctantly pulling apart. The room erupted in cheers and catcalls, acting as if I wasn't sitting right there. Stella shot me a triumphant look, a mocking smirk playing on her lips. She was showing off her ultimate victory. My heart sank to the bottom of the ocean. All I wanted to do was escape. A few rounds later, it was my turn to be the Dealer. Coincidentally, Stella was drawn again, but this time her kissing partner was another guy in the room. Without a second of hesitation, Ethan stepped in and slammed back the penalty shots on her behalf. He had a terrible alcohol tolerance, and after a few heavy pours, he was completely drunk. I made a quick excuse, supported his weight, and left the lounge early. When we got back to the apartment, Ethan held my hand tightly on the bed, mumbling incoherently. I leaned in closer to hear him. "I miss you... I miss you so much every single day... I love you..." "Stella." In that instant, my entire body turned to stone. I trembled uncontrollably. The tears fell silently down my cheeks before I even realized I was crying. I couldn't wrap my head around it. Even when Ethan was black-out drunk, his subconscious was entirely consumed by Stella.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "395017", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel