Chapter 3

We pulled into a highway rest stop, and Ethan's phone rang again.

"How did you cut yourself? Don't move, I'm coming right now!"

He put out his cigarette, threw the door open, and hopped back into the driver's seat.

"Ethan, I'm not in the car yet."

He didn't look back.

I walked to the car, and just as my hand touched the rear door handle, the car jolted forward.

The sudden movement threw me to the ground. My knee slammed against the concrete, and the pain made my vision go black.

Years ago, I had sprained my ankle at this very rest stop.

He had carried me on his back for over a mile to the nearest clinic, cursing himself the whole way for letting me get hurt.

Back then, Ethan truly treated me like his entire world.

Now, I lay on the ground right next to his car, and he didn't even bother to open his door.

Ethan hit the brakes, rolled down the window, and stuck his head out, frowning deeply.

"Can't you watch where you're walking? Why did you run into the car?"

I sat on the ground, watching blood seep through my ripped jeans. The pain made my voice shake. "You started driving suddenly."

"Hailey cut her hand slicing peaches. She’s bleeding a lot. I have to get back."

He said this while sitting comfortably in his seat, not even unbuckling his seatbelt.

I looked at him, suddenly remembering when I cut my finger chopping vegetables years ago.

The cut was tiny, but his face had turned pale with fear. He ran out in the middle of the night to buy bandages and antiseptic, holding me afterward and promising he’d never let me cook again.

Now, my knee was scraped raw, and he only saw me as an inconvenience.

"Get in."

He grabbed a handful of napkins and threw them to the back seat.

"Are there any Band-Aids in the glove box?" I asked.

"No."

He answered too quickly.

The glove box wasn't fully closed. I could see a box of waterproof Band-Aids inside, right next to a pair of women's flat shoes.

They were all prepared for Hailey.

Once, the passenger seat and the glove box of this car were filled with my things.

Painkillers, candies, motion sickness patches, and little things he kept just in case I needed them.

Now, those things were gone, replaced entirely by the existence of another woman.

The space I thought securely belonged to me had been given away long ago.

He was terrified Hailey's feet would hurt in heels, terrified she wouldn't find a bandage for her cut, yet he wouldn't even give me a single Band-Aid.

Maybe noticing my jeans turning red with blood, Ethan pulled a pack of wet wipes from his pocket and tossed them back.

It was the brand I used to use.

"Clean it up quickly. Don't ruin the leather. When we get there, go buy some ointment at a pharmacy yourself."

Ethan drove incredibly fast, his phone screen constantly lighting up.

It was flooded with messages from Hailey on Snapchat.

"Ethan, it hurts so bad."

"Where are you?"

He held the steering wheel with one hand and typed with the other.

"Almost there."

He used to never touch his phone while driving.

He used to say my safety was more important than anything.

Now, the person who mattered most was already sitting in his heart.

"Avery," he suddenly said. "When we get to the campus, can you just walk that trail by yourself?"

"Hailey really needs me. I'll drop you off, and you can walk it. Just call me when you're done, and we can end this."

End this.

Eight years of love, spoken from his mouth, felt as light as dust.

"No."

He glared at me through the rearview mirror, raising his voice. "Can you stop being so difficult?"

"Ethan, you promised me. You walk this trail with me, and then we make the decision."

He slammed his hand against the steering wheel.

"Fine! We'll walk! I'll walk it with you! Just don't regret it!"

I looked down at the dried blood on my knee.

I wouldn't regret it.

The person who should regret this was never going to be me.