Chapter 3

"No."

"Then let me see the phone."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I said so."

I stepped around the coffee table and lunged toward him.

He backed up until his spine hit the shoe cabinet near the entryway.

"Maya!"

I reached for his pocket.

He grabbed my wrist. His grip was so tight that a sharp pain shot up my arm, making me gasp.

"Let go of me!"

"Stop acting crazy!"

"Ethan, let go!"

His fingers clamped down like steel handcuffs. His knuckles were white.

He was terrified of what I would find in that phone.

And the more terrified he was, the more desperately I needed to see it.

"Maya!" he roared, and shoved me away with all his strength.

I stumbled back, losing my balance. My back slammed hard against the drywall, and the impact knocked the wind out of me.

He stood at the entryway, his chest heaving, his hand squeezing his phone as if his life depended on it.

We stared at each other. Neither of us said a word.

After what felt like an eternity, he broke eye contact.

"I'm going out," he muttered, his voice dropping.

"We both need to cool down."

He grabbed his jacket, opened the door, and slammed it behind him.

The loud bang echoed through the empty apartment. I slid down the wall and sat on the cold floor.

I sat there for a long time, until the sunlight faded and the apartment plunged into total darkness.

Finally, I dragged myself up and looked for my phone.

I scrolled to "Mom" and dialed.

She picked up on the second ring.

"Maya? Sweetie, why are you calling so late?"

Hearing her warm, familiar voice, my eyes instantly stung with tears.

"Mom," I choked out, my throat tight. "The wedding is canceled."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Ethan went to the hotel and canceled it. He didn't tell me. I just found out today."

Silence stretched over the line for a few seconds. Then, my mom's voice exploded with rage.

"What does he mean he canceled it? Who does he think he is? Did you two get into a fight?"

"No."

"Then why on earth did he do that?"

"He said it’s a waste of money."

I leaned back against the sofa, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"He said he already told his parents. He told me to tell you guys."

"That is absolute bullshit!"

My mom rarely swore, but she was livid now.

"A waste of money? Who was the one begging to have a big wedding in the first place? Who insisted on giving you a beautiful ceremony? And now he claims it’s a waste of money?"

I couldn't find the words to reply.

"Maya, tell me the truth. Is there something else going on?"

"I don't know."

"I tried to look at his phone. He wouldn't let me, and then... he shoved me."

"He shoved you?! That bastard! You stay right there. I'm calling your dad. We are coming over right now!"

"Mom, no, you don't have to—"

"Don't tell me what to do! You stay in that apartment and don't go anywhere! We're only a few miles away. We'll be there in ten minutes."

The line went dead.

I tossed my phone onto the couch, stood up, and walked into the bedroom.

On the nightstand sat a framed photo of us from our trip to Savannah last year.

He had his arm wrapped tightly around my shoulder, and I was leaning into his chest, both of us laughing so hard our eyes were squinted shut.

On the back of the photo, he had written in his messy handwriting: *Maya & Ethan, Forever.*

Forever.

How long exactly was "forever"?

I threw open the closet, grabbed his clothes, and began ripping them off the hangers, throwing them onto the bed one by one.

His t-shirts, his button-downs, his jackets.

When I was done, his side of the closet was completely bare, and his clothes formed a messy mountain on the mattress.

I sat down next to the pile, staring at it blankly.

Then, I stood up and walked into the study.

There was an iPad on the desk. It belonged to Ethan, but he usually left it at home for casual use.

I knew the passcode. It was the same as his phone—the date we officially started dating.

I unlocked the iPad.

The screen lit up with his usual apps. His Snapchat and iMessage were synced.