Chapter 3

Before I could even respond to Ethan' s outrageous demand, Tiffany, who had been watching us with growing suspicion, stormed over. Her face was a mask of fury. "What are you two whispering about?" she shrieked.

Then, her hand flew out and slapped me hard across the cheek. The sting was sharp, shocking.

"Stay away from him, Sarah!" she spat. "He's with me now!"

Ethan, instead of defending me or questioning Tiffany's violence, immediately pulled Tiffany behind him. "Tiff, calm down," he said, but his eyes on me were cold. "Sarah was just being dramatic about her letter. It's fine." He completely dismissed the assault, siding with Tiffany without a second thought.

I touched my stinging cheek, a cold resolve hardening inside me. I would watch them destroy themselves. I wouldn't lift a finger. "Fine," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "Keep the letter, Ethan. I'll get a new one from the university." I turned and walked away, leaving them to their toxic bubble.

I went to Northwood. I threw myself into computer science, the logic and precision a welcome antidote to the chaos of my past life. I excelled.

Ethan and Tiffany, as expected, got married in a hurry, a small, sad affair by all accounts. They both worked at the auto parts plant. The life he thought would save her.

Ethan started sending letters. Not love letters, but demands. Money for a new car, money because Tiffany wanted a new couch, money because he felt he deserved it.

His tone was always controlling, laced with reminders of our "past" and his supposed sacrifices. I ignored them all, filing them away as evidence of his unchanging nature.

I didn't go back to my hometown for years. The memories were too raw, the risk too great. Eventually, I moved my parents to Austin with me, where my tech startup was beginning to flourish. I built a new life, a safe life, far from the shadows of Ethan Carter.

Four years passed. My company was a success. I was married to Mark Davidson, a kind, intelligent software engineer who loved me for me, not for what I could do for him.

We had a beautiful son, and I was pregnant with our second child. Life was good, stable, something I never thought I' d experience again.

Then, my grandmother fell ill. She lived back in my hometown. I had to go. Mark came with me, our son, Leo, toddling between us.

We ran into Ethan and Tiffany at the local diner. The contrast was stark. I wore a simple but elegant dress, my slight baby bump visible.

Mark was handsome and well-dressed, holding Leo' s hand. Ethan and Tiffany looked... worn. Their clothes were faded, their faces etched with a weariness that went beyond their years. The factory life had taken its toll.

Ethan saw me first. His jaw dropped. He stared, his eyes raking over me, then Mark, then Leo. Disbelief warred with a strange, possessive glint. Tiffany just looked bitter, her gaze lingering on my clothes, my small designer handbag.