Ethan Reynolds’ childhood friend Chloe Bennett was in a car accident. He protected her with his hands worth two billion dollars, leaving them covered in blood. Everyone was shocked by this. Because I am the girlfriend who has always supported him to where he is today. In the past, even if his hands got a splinter, I would be extremely anxious. But now, seeing his hands covered in blood, I remain completely indifferent. Ethan explained to me, “The situation was critical, I couldn’t just watch her get hurt.” He added, “Chloe and I grew up together. If something happened to her, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.” He continued, “I know what you’re thinking, but my relationship with Chloe isn’t as inappropriate as you imagine. I was just acting on instinct, protecting a kind and vulnerable girl in a moment of crisis.” As a violinist, he certainly knew how precious his hands were. This man who didn’t even care about himself for a childhood friend—I no longer want him. ***** My boyfriend Ethan hadn’t come home for five consecutive days, staying by Chloe’s hospital bed without leaving her side. I sat alone in our empty house, quietly watching the sunset. When the phone rang, I was still picturing how anxiously he had protected Chloe during the accident. Ethan said on the phone, “Emily, Chloe has a slight fever, so I won’t be coming home tonight. Get some sleep early.” After telling me this, he hung up immediately without waiting for my response. Just then, Chloe sent me a voice message. Her soft, sweet voice said, “Bestie, are you coming to the Golden Abyss Club? Ethan is here too.” A second later, she quickly recalled the voice message and texted, “Emily, I’m sorry, I sent that to the wrong person.” She included a playful emoji. I laughed coldly, thinking, “She has a fever but can go to a club?” I looked up at our photo in the living room, unconsciously biting my lip, still unwilling to believe that my boyfriend of many years would betray me. However, an uneasy feeling was gradually rising within me. Without another word, I grabbed my car keys, went downstairs, and drove straight to the Golden Abyss Club. I searched each private room for Ethan. In the deepest room, I pushed the door open slightly and saw the man I had been waiting for five days. Ethan was sitting on the couch, with Chloe practically glued to his side. Under the dim lights, men and women filled the room in an intimate atmosphere. Suddenly, someone stopped the music, took the microphone and shouted, “Ethan is a famous violinist whose hands are reportedly worth two billion dollars! Would Ethan be willing to peel a pineapple with his bare hands for Chloe?” Ethan responded loudly, “I’m willing!” The entire place erupted in excitement. I thought to myself, Ethan seems to have forgotten that to protect his hands from the slightest injury, I had taken care of all the housework. Even if he got a tiny cut on his finger, I would be terrified. But now, he first let his hands bleed to protect Chloe, and now he’s willing to peel a pineapple with his bare hands for her. I gently closed the door of the private room at the Golden Abyss Club, shutting out the noisy sounds from inside. Walking out of the club, I called my mother, Margaret Carson, back. “Mom, I agree to be with Julian Wells, the man you arranged for me when I was young.” On the other end of the phone, Margaret wept with joy, “That’s wonderful! Emily, we’ll come pick you up right away.” I immediately interrupted her, “Mom, give me some time. I want to say proper goodbyes to my friends here.” Margaret readily agreed. Ethan isn’t the only one with childhood friends; I have mine too. That man I loved for five years—I’ve decided I don’t want him anymore.
I returned home and took down all the photos from the wall, forcefully tearing the picture of Ethan and me in half. At that moment, my heart felt like it had been struck hard, even the slightest breath causing me unbearable pain. Looking up, I noticed that the calendar marked today as the fifth Christmas anniversary of Ethan’s and my relationship. However, he had completely forgotten about it. I gently tore off that page of the calendar, threw it in the trash, and patted my face, comforting myself: “It’s okay, I’m about to leave anyway, none of this matters anymore.” Then, I saw the next page of the calendar, marking tomorrow as the finals of the city violin competition. My heart sank. Right now, Ethan was drunk at the bar, clearly having forgotten that tomorrow was the most important day of his life. In the past, I would always remind him the day before important events about what was coming up and what he should do. But now, looking back, I only felt emptiness. So I turned off my phone and went back to my room. The next day, I was awakened by a splash of water and opened my eyes to see a furious Ethan. He yanked me out of bed and demanded, “Emily Carson, why didn’t you tell me earlier about such an important day?” It was the first time I’d seen him so angry. The man standing in front of me seemed somewhat unfamiliar. Fighting back the sadness in my heart, I replied calmly, “I called you.” Ethan checked his call history and fell silent when he saw I had called him over twenty times. He covered his face with both hands, showing an expression of deep regret. Suddenly, with reddened eyes, he said to me in an innocent tone, “Emily, what should I do? I can’t participate in the competition now, and I can’t win the championship to propose to you.” Hearing this, I froze. I remembered Ethan’s promise: “Emily, once I win the championship, I’ll definitely marry you.” That was because I had once said I would only marry a champion. But at this moment, I suddenly realized that perhaps he didn’t truly want to marry me—he just wanted to win the championship. Just then, the doorbell rang. Ethan went to answer it, and when I walked out, I saw Chloe nestled in his arms. This sight made me feel like I didn’t matter to him at all. When Ethan saw me come out of the room, he immediately pushed Chloe away, his face showing some guilt, but more excitement. He rushed over, grabbed my shoulders, and exclaimed, “Emily, Chloe says she has a solution! The organizer is her relative, and I can compete now!” Chloe, standing behind Ethan, gave me a challenging look, as if declaring war. She raised an eyebrow and said, “But Ethan, I really like your villa. Can I move in?” At these words, Ethan’s excited face instantly turned pale, and he looked at me tentatively. His eyes were full of hesitation. I smiled with resignation and said calmly, “It’s fine, I don’t mind.” Ethan’s face lit up with joy again. He pinched my cheek affectionately and said, “I knew my Emily is the softest-hearted and would always think of my career.” Seeing this, Chloe immediately interrupted Ethan’s gesture and whined, “Ethan, my luggage is so heavy.” As they turned to leave, I vigorously wiped the cheek he had pinched, a wave of bitterness rising in my heart. For his career, I had given up my own. I was tired and didn’t want to give anymore.
The relationship between the three of us was naturally very tense. I quietly packed my belongings, planning to move out in several trips. That day, Ethan came home looking confused. He snatched the clothes from my hands and demanded, “What are you packing for?” I had already prepared my excuse and replied calmly, “I’m making room for Chloe’s things. She seems to have quite a lot of luggage.” I continued, “Besides, she’s your benefactor now. She can help your career reach new heights. We can’t mistreat her.” Ethan, who had been half-suspicious, immediately changed his expression upon hearing the second part. He personally threw the remaining clothes from the closet into my suitcase. With an undisguised smile on his face, he said, “Right, these useless clothes of yours are just in the way.” As soon as he said this, my hands noticeably paused mid-fold. I still remembered when Ethan and I first got together, he had specially built me a spacious closet, declaring, “Fill it up! I love seeing you in new clothes.” But now, those same clothes he once praised as beautiful had become “useless things” in his words. At that moment, tears welled up in my eyes, nearly spilling over. After Chloe moved in, she often ordered me around like the lady of the house, commanding me to bring her coffee and water. Not wanting to waste energy arguing with her before I left, I complied with everything. But I forgot that someone looking for faults would never be satisfied no matter what I did. The coffee I brought her was either too cold or too hot in her hands. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and poured the lukewarm coffee—that she had been complaining about—all over her. Chloe screamed, “Ahhhhh!” In that instant, I felt like my eardrums would burst. Ethan, who had just returned home, rushed in after hearing the noise. Seeing Chloe with her hair soaked and screaming, he immediately understood what had happened. Without a word, he violently pushed me to the ground. As I fell, my waist hit the sharp corner of the coffee table, making me grimace in pain. Intense pain instantly swept through my body. My face turned pale, and cold sweat broke out on my forehead. However, Ethan patiently comforted Chloe, completely ignoring me lying on the floor. At that moment, my determination to leave grew even stronger. Ethan helped Chloe dry her wet hair with a towel, repeatedly saying, “You’ve suffered here.” He had no idea that I was the one being tormented. Chloe, speaking in a high-pitched voice and with a tearful tone, hid in his arms and complained, “Ethan, I know Emily doesn’t like me and wants me gone, but she shouldn’t pour water on me!” She continued, “Thank goodness you came back, or I would have been done for today!” Ethan, already angry, completely lost it after hearing this. He shouted, “Done for? How would you be done for? I’d like to see who dares to make you leave!” His gaze intentionally flickered toward me, and I knew exactly what he meant. Seeing me still on the floor, Ethan threw the towel at me and scolded, “Emily, I never thought you could be so inconsiderate. She’s an honored guest in our home. How could you do this?” Each of his rebukes and insults stabbed at my heart. I looked at them coldly, forcing myself to stand despite the severe pain in my waist. Before leaving, I said one last thing: “Ethan, I never thought you’d be this kind of man.” After the car accident, I never shared a bed with Ethan again. In the guest room, I lifted my shirt in front of the mirror to check the bruise on my waist, which had swollen significantly. Just then, the door opened and Ethan walked in, wrapping his arm around my waist. His distinctive scent washed over me, making my stomach churn. He whispered in my ear, “Emily, I didn’t mean to push you. It’s just that Chloe is very important to me right now.” I didn’t want to hear any more. I pushed him away and said dismissively, “I know. I understand.” After showing him out, I immediately contacted a moving company and bought a plane ticket to Portland. Early the next morning, I dug out a box I had kept hidden away. Inside was my prize-winning design from college—a crystal silk dress. I had spent a week designing it from scratch, from the fabric to the style. It was my most precious possession. The next second, the door swung open. Chloe leaned against the doorframe, eyeing the dress with narrowed eyes. “Well, that’s a nice dress. Give it to me,” she said softly. She reached out to grab it, but I quickly moved away. I warned her coldly, “Don’t push your luck.” Chloe remained unfazed, moving closer to taunt me. “Ethan is mine. Don’t get too comfortable.” Her words made me laugh. With an eerily calm voice, I said, “Don’t worry, I’m leaving him.” I thought she would leave it at that, but my laughter seemed to infuriate her. She snatched the dress from my hands and ran out the door. I chased after her. She stopped by the swimming pool, and as she turned around, she used her momentum to slap me hard across the face. Caught off guard, I stumbled backward toward the pool. I quickly tried to stop myself—I couldn’t swim. Chloe said coldly, “When are you leaving? I’m getting impatient.” Then she asked, “Tell me, if we both fell in the water, who would he save?” The next moment, she grabbed my throat, giving me no chance to react. Terrified, I grabbed her hands, but it was useless. Her blood-red eyes were filled with murderous intent. I finally understood—she truly wanted to kill me. I couldn’t breathe. My face turned red, veins bulging in my neck and forehead. My lungs felt like they were about to burst. My oxygen-deprived brain was in chaos, but I had only one thought: I can’t die! My survival instinct kicked in, and I struggled violently. With one strong pull, we both fell into the pool behind me. As we fell, I thought I heard Ethan’s voice. I hit the bottom of the pool hard, water rushing painfully into my nose. I desperately thrashed around trying to surface, finally gasping for fresh air, only to sink again a second later. This happened repeatedly until my strength began to fade. Later, I saw Ethan jump into the water, immediately swimming toward Chloe. He rescued the unconscious Chloe, carried her without hesitation, and rushed her to the hospital in his car. In that moment, I realized I was no longer Ethan’s priority. I was drowning, and no one came to save me. Finally, my strength completely gave out. I stopped struggling and let myself sink to the bottom. Just as I was about to close my eyes, a rope with a rock tied to it dropped into the water. Instinctively, I grabbed it. My neighbor, sweating profusely, pulled me out of the pool and asked worriedly, “Emily, do you need to go to the hospital?” I had no strength to speak. I glanced at the parking space nearby—it was empty. I waved my hand and forced a smile, saying, “I’ll be fine after some rest.” I fished my ruined dress out of the pool. For the first time, I felt utterly helpless. I knelt on the ground clutching the dress and broke down in tears. By evening, I had changed into clean clothes. Before leaving, I blocked and deleted all contact information for Ethan and Chloe, snapped my SIM card in half, threw it in the trash, and replaced it with a new one. Finally, carrying my suitcase, I walked out of the villa that had held five years of happy memories and headed to the airport without looking back.
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