Chapter 3

By the time I arrived at the restaurant, everyone else was already there.

Ethan's gaze lingered on my scraped palms for a heartbeat, then darted away.

"Claire, over here! Saved you a seat."

Chloe waved me over with a smile.

Eight years ago, I'd tripped during a race with her, and she'd reached out to me with the same smile.

Only back then, her smile was clear and open.

Now, there was something behind her eyes I couldn't read.

"Claire, the pie Ethan gave today—it should've been yours. Let me toast you as an apology."

A single, carefully vague sentence that turned every head in the room toward me.

"What the hell? Claire's so desperate for Ethan she's snatching gifts he gave Chloe?"

"Chloe's talking about that pecan pie she posted, right? That's obviously a meet-the-parents kind of gift!"

"Everyone at the company knows Ethan and Chloe grew up together. They're meant to be. Who does Claire think she is? She should take a good look in the mirror!"

Because of Ethan's secrecy, no one at the company knew we were together.

This wasn't the first time I'd heard remarks like these.

But Ethan had never once set the record straight.

And this time, he furrowed his brow and snapped.

"Enough!"

His voice wasn't loud, but the room went silent instantly.

Something stirred deep in my chest, uncontrollable, and I reached for the iodine swab on the table.

But nothing happened.

Ethan only glanced at me in passing before turning to take the wine glass from Chloe's hand.

"You're on your period. You can't drink."

He signaled a waiter, who set down a cup of hot ginger tea and a hand warmer.

"Drink this. Warm your stomach."

The room erupted all over again.

I lifted my hand and tossed the iodine swab into the trash.

Chloe's face flushed pink, as if she'd been rouged.

"Claire, then let me use tea instead."

She raised her cup again, but I blocked her hand.

"I can't drink either."

Her eyes instantly welled with tears.

"Claire, you still won't forgive me?"

Seeing her distress, Ethan finally turned to me.

"Claire, it's Thanksgiving. Everyone's here. Don't ruin the mood."

I looked at him steadily.

"I'm on my period too."

In the early days, he'd even remarked how fitting it was that Chloe and I were such close friends—so close that our cycles synced up.

But at some point, he'd only remembered hers.

Ethan's gaze sharpened.

But Chloe let out a small sob beside him, and the hesitation in his eyes vanished completely.

"One drink won't kill you."

One drink won't kill you.

When I was on my period, he said one drink wouldn't kill me.

When Chloe was on her period, he had ginger tea and a hand warmer ready.

Love and indifference—it had been obvious all along.

I picked up the glass.

"Fine. I'll drink."

Consider it a funeral toast for the three of us.

Ethan's fingers twitched, but in the end, they just curled into a fist.

The alcohol slid down my throat.

My lower abdomen seized immediately, and my stomach cramped right along with it.

I forced my spine straight.

"I'm tired. I'm leaving."

At the door, my legs finally gave out. I stumbled and collapsed.

The next second, I fell into a familiar pair of arms.

"How are you in this much pain?"

Ethan's brow creased deep as he guided me to a nearby lounge area.

"Drink some warm milk."

He pressed a cup of warm milk into my hands—heated to exactly the temperature I liked.

"Let me drive you home—"

His phone blared to life.

On the other end, Chloe's voice came through, frantic and pleading.

"Ethan, my mom got to Boston early—she's about to arrive at the station—"

Before she'd even finished, he was already grabbing his coat.

"I'm on my way."

He took a few steps, then stopped, turning back to look at me with something like hesitation.

"Let me pick her up first, then I'll come back for you. Chloe's situation is more urgent."

Of course. Her situation was always more urgent. I was always an afterthought.

Even though I was the one who was supposed to be his girlfriend.

I sipped the milk and said nothing. Quietly, I submitted my resignation.

Then I called a cab home.

This time, I wasn't going to wait.