Chapter 3

Sophie starts a TikTok account and posts daily videos documenting her "therapy journey" with Ethan.

In the clips, Ethan stumbles through words like a toddler learning to speak, and Sophie coaches him with exaggerated patience.

She even posts a video of Ethan, his ears bright red, leaning in and giving her a shy kiss on the cheek.

The comments go wild. She's his salvation. They're soulmates. This is the purest love story I've ever seen.

Claire is ready to put her fist through a wall.

"That two-faced snake is doing this on purpose! You're Ethan's actual girlfriend, and she's posting this stuff to make it look like he's hers!"

"It doesn't matter." I squeeze Claire's hand. "I don't care anymore."

The words barely leave my mouth when Sophie's text lights up my phone.

[Audrey, don't get the wrong idea~ Kissing is part of the treatment process. The doctor says appropriate physical intimacy helps break down his emotional barriers. Our relationship is totally pure!]

[By the way… you two never kissed in eight years? He's so adorably awkward about it, like a teenage boy on his first date lol]

Eight years together, and Ethan never once touched me.

He watched his parents get brutalized and murdered. Any kind of physical contact made him physically sick — panic, nausea, total shutdown.

So I was careful. I walked on eggshells. I never once asked for the kind of closeness that normal couples take for granted.

Now I know what he looks like when he kisses someone.

Shy. Reverent. Almost tender.

Just not with me.

A few days later, Ethan shows up at my door.

I think he's finally going to explain. Maybe apologize. Say something — anything — that acknowledges what he's put me through.

The first words out of his mouth: "Audrey, take Sophie's assignment in South America."

Eight years. His first sentence spoken directly to me.

And it's for her.

"Your company has a project in South America… they're selecting people for a field assignment. Sophie got picked, but…" He struggles through the words. "It's remote and rough out there. She doesn't want to go."

"So you want me to go instead?"

There's no emotion in my chest. No flutter at finally hearing his voice directed at me. Just ice. "Do you even know what that assignment means? It's a three-year post. Closed site. No coming home."

"Think of it as… doing it for me."

He pushes the words out one by one. "If Sophie leaves, what happens to my treatment? I'm so close to being fully recovered. If she goes now… it all falls apart."

"Then go with her. If you can't bear to let her leave, follow her."

"You know my health won't allow—"

"That's not my problem." I cut him off. "I'm resigning next month. I'm not going to South America."

Right on cue, Sophie appears behind him, sniffling on command.

"Ethan, don't pressure Audrey. If she doesn't want to go, that's fine. I can take the assignment. I just… worry about your recovery…"

Ethan's voice goes cold and hard. "Audrey, Sophie is willing to sacrifice everything for me. You're supposed to be my girlfriend — why can't you?"

"Oh, so now you remember I'm your girlfriend?"

I point at Sophie. "I'm your girlfriend, but you're openly living with her. I'm your girlfriend, but in eight years you never said one word to me — then she shows up and you're magically cured?"

"Tell me the truth, Ethan." My voice turns cold. "Have you two been sleeping together this whole time?"

"Enough!"

His expression hardens. His anger leaves him speechless. His hands do the talking instead:

[There's nothing between Sophie and me. You want to be angry at someone, be angry at me. But don't drag her name through the mud.]

[I know you're upset about the wedding. But I told you — I just want to get better first, then we'll get married. It's not like I'm refusing to marry you. Why are you so desperate to get married?]

[And let's not rewrite history. You're the one who threw yourself at me. You insisted on being together. You told me you could handle anything. Remember?]

Every word lands like a punch to the gut.

I stare at the man in front of me. The last shred of hope dies inside me.

"Ethan. Do you really — honestly — not know why I insisted on being with you?"

He blinks. Something uncertain crosses his face.

I laugh. Quiet. Bitter.

He really has forgotten.