Chapter 2
540 Words
Ethan emerges from the shower, drying his hair.
Elena glanced up at him. "Your phone went off."
He grabbed it in a flash.
"Who is it?" she asked casually, though her eyes were glued to his face.
"Work thing."
His tone was breezy, fingers flying across the screen—but that tiny smirk stabbed her heart like a needle.
Ethan ruffled her hair. "Go soak in the tub. I added essential oils."
She nodded, nails biting into her palms to stop the tears until she turned away.
Steam rose thick in the bathroom as they finally fell.
Time blurred before his voice floated through the door, still tender. "Don't overdo it, you'll faint."
"Mm," she managed through clenched teeth, throat burning with unshed sobs.
Why did his care feel so real when those texts to someone else existed?
Pulling herself up from the tub, her foot slipped,"Thud!" She hit the tiles hard.
"Ah!"
The door flew open. "What happened? Are you hurt?" Ethan burst in, panic sharp in his voice.
Before she could whimper, a saccharine female ringtone blared from his pocket. The kind you save for one person. It sliced through the steamy silence like a knife.
He answered in a heartbeat, frown deepening. "Hello? Right. On my way."
"Ethan, it hurts." Elena grabbed his sleeve, eyes wet, the throbbing in her knee mirroring the ache in her chest.
His gaze darted away. "Company emergency. Can't delay."
He hauled her onto the bed and bolted—his damp shirt clinging to his chest as he called over his shoulder, "Put some ointment on it. I'll be back soon."
The door slammed. Staring at her swollen foot, Elena let out a hollow laugh.
Once, he'd turned the house upside down over a mosquito bite.
Now? A fall didn't even warrant a second glance. Maybe he'd seen the injury—just didn't care enough to let it compete with whoever was on that call.
The bedroom felt cavernous in his absence.
She'd sat frozen until a searing pain shot through her ankle—now purpling with bruises. Dialing his number, all she got was the robotic drone: "The call couldn't be connected."
Hobbling downstairs, she trembled through the cab ride.
ER lights burned into the night, harsh and blinding. Her heart stalled.
There, by the flowerbed, stood Ethan, his back to her.
He stood there, still in his home clothes, next to a young woman in a nurse's uniform.
Her head was bowed, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs.
Ethan's hand hovered, uncertain, before clumsily patting her back.
Elena's breath caught.
How long had it been since she'd seen him like this?
The Ethan she knew after college was always steady. Unshakable. Even with her, he hardly ever seemed this flustered.
Nurse's uniform. Lila.
The two words exploded in her mind—a deafening crash.
Suddenly, those cringe-worthy roleplays, the icy stethoscope—it all clicked. Horribly. He wasn’t looking for something new—he was molding her into someone else’s shadow.
With a sigh, he yanked the woman close, crushing her against his chest as she sniffled.
Then his lips brushed her hair—soft, lingering.
Her ankle throbbed, but the pain faded to nothing as she dragged herself forward.
"Ethan."
- Writer
