Chapter 4

Lily clapped back instantly: [People without kids shouldn't interfere with those of us who do! Are you blind? Can't you see the hospital's official stamp on the report?]

The frustration that had been building up in my chest was mostly cleared by Lily’s reply.

I hummed a little tune and spent a busy afternoon working.

Later, I took a picture of the soothing flowers a certain someone had sent to my office and posted it on my Snapchat story:

[It feels so good to have someone caring for me.]

Out of nowhere, Ethan left a comment:

[Is lying to yourself that comforting? Just don't go around telling people I sent those to you.]

In his eyes, I was that worthless.

I didn't reply.

While waiting for my ride after work, a familiar car pulled up right in front of me.

A frustrated Ethan rolled down the window. "Get in."

I stood still. "I called an Uber."

"I'm not asking. Get in."

Sighing, I cancelled my ride.

I instinctively walked to the passenger side, but after he glared at me, I quietly got into the back seat.

Ethan drove incredibly fast. The wind cut through the open window like a knife.

While waiting at a red light, he habitually pulled out a cigarette, but after glancing at my flat stomach through the rearview mirror, he put it away.

"You can't keep this baby. I can compensate you for what happened that night, but I won't be responsible for a child's future."

I gently stroked my belly, my heart aching.

"You make it sound like I forced myself on you that night. Let me say it again: I don't need you to take responsibility, and the baby isn't yours."

Ethan swore under his breath and slammed his hand on the steering wheel, honking the horn loudly.

"You're still acting at a time like this? I don't think you have enough charm to make any other guy look at you."

He looked at me through the rearview mirror, his eyes filled with endless mockery.

My pale, tired face was reflected in the window. I didn't care to argue with him.

Since we were kids, Ethan was always the golden boy. He was tall, handsome, studious, and great at sports.

The girls chasing him could line up from our doorsteps to the school gates. Even my breakfasts were supplied by his fangirls.

Because I looked so average, they collectively agreed that I wasn't a threat.

When I first started passing their love letters to him, Ethan was shocked.

"Hey, why are you giving me these? I don't like you, don't do this."

Wearing my thick glasses, I told him honestly, "I didn't write them. Someone else asked me to give them to you."

"Good." He let out a long sigh of relief. "Let me make this clear. Don't get any ideas about me. To me, you're basically genderless."

I felt a pang of sadness, but I still spent the next three years quietly following behind him.

It wasn't until high school, when we were in the same class, that things changed.

After his basketball games, he would walk a long way just to ask for my water bottle.

"Give me a sip. I'm dying of thirst."

The setting sun hit his sweaty face, making him look incredibly bright.

For the first time, my ears flushed red, and I refused.

"Why not? Don't be so stingy to your bro."

He unreasonable snatched it away and gulped it down.

When I got the bottle back, I hid in a corner where no one was looking and took a sip from where his lips had touched.

That was the moment I realized I liked him.

But he didn't like me.

I started caring about my appearance, tried taking off my glasses, and clumsily put on makeup that made me look like a clown.

He mocked me mercilessly. "So ugly."

Later, I intentionally threw away over fifty points on my SATs just to make sure I went to college in the same city as him.

I played games of Truth or Dare just to confess to him under the guise of a joke. I threw drunken tantrums and dropped hints constantly.

But all I got in return was his disdain and malicious teasing from our mutual friends.

The final straw was at my birthday party three months ago.

I had gone out to buy cold medicine for him, and when I returned to the private room, I heard his friends making bets through the door: