Chapter 34

Nine years ago.

My phone buzzes with a notification, jolting me awake from another sleepless night. For two years now, sleep has been elusive.

I blame Ethan. My heart and mind refuse to settle when he's not around. The restlessness started when he left for university. During term time, I barely sleep—but when he’s home for breaks, I sleep like a baby.

Groaning, I grab my phone. The notification sends a jolt of excitement through me.

I paid someone to install a tracking app that alerts me whenever Ethan is nearby. Right now, it’s telling me he’s back in town.

I leap out of bed and throw on clothes. He’s probably with Isabella or Nathan or Sebastian, but I don’t care. I just need to see him, even from a distance.

Once dressed, I slip out through my bedroom window. My room is at the far end of the house—no one ever hears me leave.

I land safely and start walking, pulling out my phone to call an Uber.

"This is a terrible idea," a voice whispers in my head.

I ignore it. My mind is already flooded with images of Ethan. It’s been months. My eyes ache for the sight of him.

"Sophia, go home. You’re making a mistake," the voice insists.

I freeze. No. Nothing about Ethan could ever be a mistake. I shove the doubt aside and keep walking.

Minutes later, the car arrives.

"Please, Sophia, turn back," the voice pleads as I climb in.

My body tenses, torn between desire and reason. But I silence the warning and shut the door.

I should have listened.

Thirty minutes later, we stop outside a dingy bar. I pay the driver and step out, staring at the place in disbelief. This isn’t Ethan’s scene at all.

Steeling myself, I flash a fake ID and slip inside. I find a shadowed corner and scan the room. Within seconds, I spot him—alone.

I wait, expecting his friends to show up, but no one does.

"You’ve seen him. Now leave," the voice hisses.

I ignore it. This might be my only chance. With Isabella not here, maybe—just maybe—he’ll notice me.

Taking a deep breath, I approach him.

"Hey, Ethan," I say softly.

He turns, flashing me a dazzling smile. It catches me off guard. We barely speak—he usually goes out of his way to avoid me.

"Little Sophia!" he slurs. "How are you?"

That’s when I realize—he’s drunk. That’s the only reason he’s smiling at me.

I sit beside him. He orders me a drink. The first sip is revolting, but I force it down.

"How’s school?" I ask, trying to relax.

He smirks, nudging my shoulder. "Is that really what you want to ask?"

"No. I want to know why you’re here alone, drinking. But I didn’t want to be rude."

He sways, leaning closer. "Aren’t you sweet?" Then he goes back to his drink.

"Are you okay?" I ask. He’s not acting like himself.

He ignores me. I keep drinking, staying quiet.

I should have listened.

"She doesn’t want to marry me," he mutters after a while.

I blink, already feeling the alcohol. "Who? Isabella?"

"Yeah. I proposed. Had the ring, the perfect moment. She said no."

My stomach twists. He asked her to marry him? I swallow the hurt.

"She said she’s not ready. Wants to focus on school. Doesn’t she love me?" His voice cracks.

I don’t know what to say. Part of me is relieved she refused. The other part aches for him.

"You’re amazing, Ethan. Her loss. Screw her—you deserve better." I raise my glass.

He stares at me, then grins. "You’re right. Screw her." He clinks his glass against mine.

We stay for hours—talking, dancing, drinking. By the time we leave, we’re both wasted.

He suggests I stay in his hotel room. I agree—I can’t go home like this.

In the room, the second the door closes, he’s on me. Kissing me, tearing at my clothes.

"Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long," he slurs, stripping off his own clothes.

I giggle. "Me too. Are you sure?"

"Definitely."

He leads me to the bed. Everything blurs—his touch, his kisses. It hurts at first, but then it doesn’t.

"Isabella," he groans as he finishes.

My heart stops.

I should have listened.

"Fuck!" A panicked shout wakes me.

I jolt up, disoriented. Ethan is pacing, shirtless. I’m naked.

Horror crashes over me.

"No, no, no," I whisper, clutching the sheets.

His eyes burn with rage. "What the hell happened? Why are you in my room?"

I scramble for words. How do I explain the tracking app? That I never meant for this to happen?

I grab my clothes, hands shaking. The soreness between my legs confirms it wasn’t a dream.

"I found you at the bar. We drank. That’s all I remember," I lie.

He’s furious, guilt twisting his face. "You expect me to believe that? You’ve been obsessed with me for years!"

I dress quickly, avoiding his glare.

"You think I planned this?" I gesture at the mess. "I was drunk too."

He grips his hair like he might rip it out. "I thought I was with Isabella. She’ll never forgive me."

The words gut me. He didn’t even know it was me.

I reach for him, wanting to comfort him.

He shoves me away. "Don’t touch me, you bitch!"

Tears spill as I stand. "Ethan, I didn’t mean for this—"

"Get out. I never want to see you again."

I leave, shattered.

Two days later.

"Where is that slut?" Isabella’s scream echoes through the house.

My heart pounds. She knows.

Before I can hide, my door slams open. Isabella storms in, mascara streaking her face.

She slaps me. Again. Again. I don’t stop her. I deserve this.

"Isabella!" Our father’s voice booms from the doorway. "What’s going on?"

Our parents stare in shock.

"She’s no sister of mine!" Isabella shrieks.

Mother sighs. "What did she do now?"

"She slept with Ethan!"

Their disgust is instant. Father’s glare turns icy.

"I was drunk too," I whisper.

"Liar!" Isabella kicks me. "Ethan would never want you!"

Father wraps his arms around her. "I’ll never forgive you for this, Sophia."

Mother’s voice is cold. "You disgust me."

They leave me on the floor, sobbing.

My life will never be the same.