They Spoke French To Hide It, Not Knowing I Understood Chapter 01

They Spoke French To Hide It, Not Knowing I Understood Chapter 01

I nicked my finger chopping vegetables and turned on instinct to call for my boyfriend Ethan Hale to grab a BandAid.

On the couch, he sat shoulder to shoulder with Nova Young, locked into their game.

“Oh my god, I died again?!”

“Guess you still need me to carry you!”

She collapsed against his shoulder laughing. He didn’t pull away—just smirked and nudged her head.

The words died in my throat.

When he first went abroad and couldn’t stomach the food, I flew to France every two weeks to cook for him. The ticket stubs stacked into a thick pile.

Then Nova started coming over for meals. Slowly, she took over his couch, his weekends, and the space that used to be mine.

I bought movie tickets; he dragged me to whatever Nova recommended instead, said her taste was never wrong.

I stayed up calculating the time difference to text him late at night. He didn’t reply—but he left a dozen comments under her post in the same breath.

I took time off and flew over to surprise him for his birthday. He told me he already had plans with Nova and left me stranded at the airport in tendegree weather.

Ethan always said long distance couldn’t touch what we’d built in twenty years.

But watching them laugh together, I realized—Nova wedged between us felt farther than the five thousand miles I crossed to get here.

I turned back, wrapped my finger in a paper towel, and kept chopping.

The onions stung until my eyes burned. That was when I made the decision.

This was the last time I’d come to France for Ethan.

***

By the time the food hit the table, they still hadn’t moved.

“Could your positioning be any worse?”

“You’re the one who charged in first. Ever heard of teamwork?”

They bickered over the game, voices heated, but their bodies kept drifting closer.

Nova’s leg pressed against his. Ethan’s arm rested casually on the couch behind her.

I stood at the table staring at the spread. Every dish was his favorite.

I’d added extra cayenne to the chicken because he loved the heat. I’d caramelized the ribs with brown sugar because he’d once mentioned, offhand, that Nova had a sweet tooth.

I could still hear the careless way he’d said it, “Nova could live on sugar alone.”

She caught the scent, dragged Ethan to the table, and scanned the food.

“Elara, you’re a total lifesaver! I’d literally starve before touching that sad dining hall food. Thank god you’re here.”

“Ethan, how is your life this good? If I were a guy, I’d fight you for her.”

Ethan glanced at me and raised an eyebrow. “Jealous? She’s mine.”

I didn’t answer. I ladled myself some soup.

“Ellie, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

He ruffled my hair. “Must be that time of the month, right? It’s almost the end.”

Nova grabbed a rib, took a bite, and grinned at Ethan.

“Dude, that’s my cycle. Elara’s is midmonth. Can you at least pretend to be a decent boyfriend?”

The spoon slipped from my hand and clinked against the bowl.

In that split second, I remembered the periodtracking app I’d glimpsed on his phone last month, the little pink flower pinned to the final days.

He’d said he’d tapped it by accident. I’d believed him.

Nova seemed to catch the shift. She switched to French and said to Ethan, 　　“Crap, is she actually mad?”

Ethan hesitated, then answered in French too. “That’s just how she is. She gets possessive.”

Nova let out a soft laugh. “So if she ever found out you unhooked my bra strap to win that match, would she cry?”

I picked up my spoon and cut through the words. 　　“I’m certified in French. You don’t need to talk behind my back.”

I’d thrown myself into the language—drilled pronunciation, applied for an exchange program—all to be close to him in France.

Now every syllable landed like a blade, perfectly clear.

The air above the table went still.

“And one more thing. You said I’m too possessive. So tell me—what do you call a girl who crashes every single date I have with my boyfriend, on every single holiday?”

Nova’s smile froze for a beat before snapping back into place.

“Come on, Ethan and I are just buddies. Same interests—sports, games. It’s not that easy to make friends this far from home.”

I smiled. “So I should thank you? Thank you for crashing every meal, for taking my seat, for drinking out of his mug?”

Ethan set his fork down.

“Ellie, she came all this way to have dinner. Do you really have to turn it into a whole thing?”

I looked him in the eye, and almost laughed.

“I fly seven hours every two weeks just to cook for you. So tell me—what do you call that, a quick commute?”

“She lives in a dorm twenty minutes away on foot, and you’re already defending her?”

Nova pursed her lips. “Fine, fine, I’ll go. Don’t fight over me.”

“You two finally get a night alone. I should’ve read the room.”

She made a show of standing. Ethan caught her arm and pressed her back down. 　　“Stay.”

Then he turned to me, voice sharp. “Elara, can you not throw attitude every time you show up? Act like an adult for once.”

My eyes fixed on his hand wrapped around her arm. Something tightened in my chest.

I stood. “Fine. I’m immature. I’m unreasonable. Is that what you want to hear?”

“In that case, I won’t bother coming anymore.”