Chapter 4

Ethan came home at nine the next morning.

I was pulling my suitcase out of the bedroom.

He stopped, then caught my wrist as I passed him. His jaw was dark with stubble, and his eyes were bloodshot from a sleepless night.

I had spent the night waiting in the home we shared.

He had spent it beside Lena's hospital bed.

They had known each other for twenty years. I had been with him for two. I could keep pretending those numbers didn't matter, but his choices had never let me forget.

To him, Lena was a mountain. I had been foolish to think I could ever climb it.

"Ethan," I said, "we're done."

He dropped his forehead onto my shoulder. "I'm exhausted. Don't start a fight right now."

"I'm not fighting."

"Can't this wait until I wake up?"

I almost laughed.

Even my breakup had to wait until it was convenient for him.

"Go to sleep," I said. "I won't bother you again."

He straightened. The fatigue cleared from his face. "What does that mean?"

I pulled my wrist free.

His expression hardened. "I told you what happened. What else was I supposed to do? It was one birthday. You get one every year. Lena is your best friend too. Was I supposed to leave her alone at the hospital?"

He always made the choice sound inevitable after he made it.

But Lena had parents. She had relatives and friends. Ethan could have called any of them. He could have checked on her, made sure someone came, then returned to the promise he had made me.

Instead, he stayed all night because when Lena needed something, every other commitment disappeared.

I used to argue until my throat hurt. That morning, I felt only calm.

"I don't want anything from you," I said. "I just want to leave."

He stared at me as if waiting for the next line – the threat, the demand, the condition he could meet.

There wasn't one.

I took my suitcase and walked out.

He followed me as far as the elevator.

"You're being emotional," he said. "Stay in the dorm for a few days if you need space, but don't turn this into something bigger than it is."

"How big is it, then? Tell me what size of hurt I'm allowed to leave over."

"That's not what I said."

"You said my birthday happens every year. You said Lena needed you. You said the breakup could wait until after your nap. Every answer means the same thing: what matters to me becomes small the moment it competes with her."

He rubbed both hands over his face. "I am not having this conversation in a hallway."

"Then don't."

I stepped into the elevator. His confidence wavered when I pressed the lobby button.

"Flora."

For one second, hope moved through me on instinct.

Then he said, "Leave your key. I don't want you losing it while you're upset."

I placed the key in his palm. The doors closed between us.