Forty-Eight Hours Until I Disappear From His Life Chapter 10

Forty-Eight Hours Until I Disappear From His Life Chapter 10

Ethan’s hand froze in midair.

“can change.”

“You’ve said that before.”

After the first fake car accident, he’d held me and promised he would never go along with their

games again.

The second time, he said Sloane was just blunt and didn’t mean anything by it.

At the store, he’d said he’d only been too harsh and told me to take his card and buy myself something I liked.

Every time, he thought the problem was how he’d handled it.

Never that he hadn’t trusted me in the first place.

Ethan said quietly, “I’ll set the record straight publicly. I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re not a

gold digger.”

“I don’t need that.”

“I can stay here with you.”

“I don’t need that either.”

“Then what do you want me to do?”

His voice finally broke, then he quickly forced it back under control.

“Tell me. Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”

I looked at him.

“I told you plenty of times before.”

I told him those jokes hurt me.

I told him I didn’t like Sloane letting herself into our home whenever she wanted.

I told him to stop using accidents to test our relationship.

I told him I wasn’t with him for his money.

He hadn’t listened once.

Now that I no longer wanted to say anything, he was finally ready to hear me.

“Ethan, I never wanted you to prove anything for me.”

Just wanted my boyfriend to stand beside me when people humiliated me.”

“You didn’t.”

His eyes slowly reddened.

“Give me one more chance.”

“No.”

I answered without hesitation.

Ethan looked as if that single word had pinned him in place.

“You really don’t love me at all anymore?”

“I did.”

I nodded.

“That’s why I put up with it for three years.”

“But I don’t anymore.”

A coworker called my name from nearby.

The project meeting wasn’t over. Everyone was still waiting for me.

I turned to leave. Ethan suddenly reached for my wrist, then released me the instant his fingers

touched me.

“I’ll wait for you. Three years, longer than that, whatever it takes.”

“That’s up to you.”

“You’re never coming back to me, are you?”

I didn’t answer.

Because he already knew.

Ethan stayed in Saudi Arabia for seven days.

He came to the project office every day, but he never tried to stop me again.

On the seventh day, he flew back to New York alone.

Sloane even went to the airport to corner him.

Crying, she told him everyone had blocked her, the fallout had even reached her job, and he was the only person left who could help.

Ethan stepped around her and said only one thing.

“Aren’t you the one who looks down on people for relying on someone else?”

Sloane chased after him for a few steps and fell to the ground.

People nearby recognized her, but no one helped her up.

For years, she’d hidden behind being Ethan’s longtime best friend, using it as license to humiliate

anyone she wanted.

Now that Ethan no longer protected her, those so–called friends were the first to disappear.

Later, she archived everything on Instagram older than six months.

There were no more parties, no more designer bags, and no circle of friends hanging on her every

word.

Three years later, I finished my overseas assignment.

Meridian threw a celebration dinner for me, and Daniel announced my promotion in front of

everyone.

Ethan had someone deliver a box to me,

Inside was the watch, along with a check.

The check was for exactly $15,760, the amount I’d paid back to him three years earlier.

There was a note in the box.

[I never should’ve accepted this money. I’m giving it back.]

I closed the box and had the courier return it to the sender.

That night, the old phone I’d never quite been able to throw away after changing my number lit up.

Ethan had sent a message.

[Are you back in New York?]

I didn’t reply.

The next day, I walked out of the airport pulling my suitcase behind me.

Sunlight spilled over me, warm in exactly the right way.

Among the crowd near the exit, Ethan stood there holding that box.

I saw him.

He saw me too.

But this time, I wasn’t pretending.

I really didn’t turn back.