Chapter 5

At 4:00 AM, I woke up.

I reached out to the other side of the bed. It was cold.

When I walked out of the bedroom, I saw Ethan standing in the kitchen.

The last time I saw him in this house, he and Chloe were making out in my walk-in closet.

Ever since he started dating Chloe, he barely came back here. He lived with her.

They ate together, slept together.

Their romance was the envy of everyone.

He took off his apron, looked at me, and frowned. His eyes held a flicker of genuine concern.

"Why are your clothes so baggy? Have you lost weight?"

His tone was so gentle. He looked so much like the man I used to love.

He looked as if he still cared.

Setting the apron down, he walked over and cupped my cheek.

I had indeed lost weight. My face had lost all its roundness.

I slapped his hand away with all the strength I could muster.

"Don't touch me, Ethan!"

He lowered his gaze, a flash of disappointment crossing his eyes.

When he stepped aside, I finally saw the table. It was covered in a fresh, delicious feast.

It wasn't a dream. It was real.

I couldn't believe that a single whisper in my sleep had actually made him cook for me again.

What was he trying to do? I didn't understand.

And I didn't want to. I was just dragging out my final days anyway.

I didn't need love, I didn't need his food, and I certainly didn't need Ethan Vance.

With a violent sweep of my arm, I pushed all the dishes off the table. The clean dining room was instantly turned into a chaotic, messy disaster.

Hearing the crash, Ethan stared at the mess in disbelief. Slowly, he approached me, pinning me against the wall.

His face was contorted with rage, his eyes burning with fury.

"Jasmine! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"I was just joking in my sleep, and you actually took it seriously? Don't you find yourself pathetic? You cook just because I ask you to? You might not be tired of this game, but I'm sick of your dirty hands!"

He stared at me as if I had been possessed.

I spat out the cruelest words I could think of. His eyes grew colder by the second.

Suddenly, he scooped me up and threw me onto the sofa. A dark desire flared in his eyes, his breathing turning ragged.

I struggled wildly, but I couldn't break free from his grip.

"Ethan, you bastard! Let me go!"

He bit my lip hard, making me gasp in pain.

"Is it really that hard to say you love me?! All these years, I've just been waiting for you to apologize to me! Why won't you just give in? You said you wanted my cooking tonight, and I made it without a second thought. Why do you have to humiliate me?!"

"Do you enjoy playing with my feelings?!"

His sharp accusations made it impossible for me to look him in the eye, fearing he would see the tears pooling in them.

We stared at each other in a suffocating silence until he began to unbutton my shirt.

He unbuttoned, and I quickly buttoned it back up. He refused to back down, and neither did I. His movements were fluid, far too familiar with my body.

Suddenly, his phone rang. It was Chloe on Snapchat.

Without hesitation, he answered it and put it on speaker.

Chloe was crying hysterically.

"Ethan... why did you leave me? Is Jasmine really worth it? You said I was your favorite! I drank way too much at the bar... my head is spinning and I feel like throwing up. Can you please come pick me up? There are so many guys staring at me, I'm so scared... please come get me..."

Ethan didn't answer her. Instead, he stared at me, covering the microphone with his hand.

"Jasmine, kiss me."

Seeing that I remained silent, he pleaded, "Say you love me. Say you're sorry. If you say it, I'll never leave you again."

Though he kept his voice low, I could hear it trembling.

He was begging me. I knew.

But this was exactly how I used to be. I used to beg him for love just as desperately.

"Ethan, please don't leave me, okay?"

"Ethan, can we go back to how we were?"

"Ethan, let's stop fighting, please..."

Back then, he had only left me a cold text message:

"Jasmine, stop being so pathetic."

So, loving someone was considered pathetic.

Loving someone meant dragging your dignity through the dirt.

I didn't understand his love, and I certainly didn't want it anymore.

The scars of his cruel words were permanently engraved on my heart. They would never heal.

I didn't want to forgive him. I wanted him to feel exactly what I felt.

Leaning close to his ear, I whispered with a cold smile:

"Ethan, stop being so pathetic."

He froze, then let out a bitter laugh.

He uncovered the phone. "Baby, hang tight. I'm coming to get you."

In the end, he didn't even look back at me as he slammed the door shut.