Here's the next chapter... All comments and feedback are appreciated!!!
I knew my method of telling Ethan about my exploit with Max had to be perfect, so I scoured the Internet for the right strategy on how to get a man to commit to you when you're both seeing other people.
Hello Ava. My weekend was good. How about yours? (Boring disinterest until...)
Oh it was actually really fun!! (Purposefully vague, hoping he takes the bait).
What did you do?
Oh...I mean, I'm not sure if I should tell you this, but I guess since we're totally just FWB now it's fine. I actually met someone this weekend, so I'm excited about that ☺
(This implied he should be happy for me, as he was my friend with benefits, and I had only followed his advice to get rid of my oneitis).
That's good, Ava. I'm glad for you... Did you two sleep together? (Yes! Perfect question!)
Um...Ethan, I didn't want to immediately rush and tell you, but....yeah.
Bullshit. You never sleep with someone on a first date.
I know I don't usually but I did this weekend. We had a really strong connection I guess. The funny thing is he actually knows your old friend Cassie.
Ava, don't be stupid. You get too attached after sleeping with someone... You have no idea how to not get your heart broken. What is his name? Cassie knows a ton of horrible guys. (Including one named Ethan Parke).
Lol don't worry about it. You told me to get over my oneitis...and if you must know, his name is Max.
Max what? (I smiled thinking he was about to Internet stalk Max completely).
Max Anderson.
10 minutes later:
I asked Cassie about him. She says he's a sweet guy, a romantic... But I'd be careful if I were you. I guess maybe you should just leave me behind.
LOL leave you behind? Max and I only went on one date. (My plan couldn't fall apart that easily, could it?)
Yeah, but she said he's nice. It's probably better for you. I just feel weird now..
What do you mean you feel weird?
I guess I just always thought we would end up together. Even if I didn't say that.
I nearly dropped my phone in shock. This was the confession I had been waiting for.
Ethan, I thought that too. But I didn't think it was something you wanted anymore... (Please say that it is! Please say that it is!)
I don't know. I'm all confused. I didn't think I'd feel this way.
Twenty minutes later, I felt I had Ethan in the palm of my hand.
He committed a surprising double text: Can you come over please? I need to talk to you.
I thought I had him.
. . .
When I arrived to Ethan's apartment, things were different. It was like for the first time he realized that perhaps I wasn't completely his (he had never been mine) and he didn't like that. So he was possessive and jealous for the first time I had ever observed.
"Ava," he said at first, enveloping me in a hug. Had he missed me while he was with Savannah or just after I told him about Max?
"Hey, Ethan. What's up? You seemed sad over text," I said. Play it cool, I told myself.
He looked away, appearing more forlorn than I had seen him in a while. I held his hands, tugging a little on his bright yellow shirt's sleeves. "Hey, talk to me, Ethan," I said kindly, eyes and ears wide open for the truth (that he really did care about me) and some change to happen.
"Ava, I don't know what I wanted to say. I just wanted you close to me. The thought of you with this guy, it disgusts me," he said, twisting his lip like he too was nauseous from jealousy.
"Baby, I don't mean to be cruel or hurt you ever, but maybe now you understand a little bit of how I feel when you tell me about the other girls," I spoke.
It was a snide comment, but I delivered it with the utmost grace and care and nudged Ethan to show him in some way that I still loved him, although he had never and would never ask if I did.
I wondered if I was imagining Ethan's eyes becoming water, about to drip. He looked down. "It's not the same, Ava. I have meaningless sex with everyone. It's a personality trait. You only have sex with people you really care about."
"So...you're not hurt that I slept with him," I repeated. "You're hurt that perhaps I really care for him. Does that mean you really care for me?"
Ethan shook his head back and forth, almost like he was on the verge of another of his breakdowns. "I—Of course I do, Ava. I—It's hard for me. You know it's hard for me. I don't like feeling this way. I told you, I always thought we'd be together someday. I thought---I really thought secretly, I would never tell you, but I thought maybe someday I would get it together. I'd become the guy who deserves you, and we could be happy. But now, now I'm realizing it's just some stupid pipe dream."
His imagination of us together had me in tears internally, but I remained calm. I wanted us both to fight for that so desperately.
"You really want that?" I questioned. I couldn't believe this was reality after all we had already been through. All I needed to do was sleep with someone else to get Ethan perplexed and wanting a future? Damn, boys were really too simple.
"Yes, Ava, but we can never have it. You're going to and should fall in love with this Max character, and I should be happy for you. I want to be happy for you, but I can't. It makes me sick. If you two started dating, we could never be friends."
I was completely baffled and excited about this changing behavior.
"Ethan, I'm not falling in love with Max." I ignored Connor's advice to not let Ethan feel confident about anything at this point. "Sure, I like him. But we just met. It doesn't compare to my feelings for you. And it's not a pipe dream. We could have what you want, what we both want."
"I know, but I'd let you down," Ethan whispered, as if the idea of us dating and him disappointing me scared him more than anything in this world. I thought to myself, how does he not see by him refusing to try he was letting me down more than he ever could if we were together?
"You don't know that. We could be happy," I said. It was the truth, wasn't it?
"Ava, can I, can I think about it? I mean, think about us dating? It does hurt me that you were with him... I just need to think about us... I'll let you know in a few days. Three days. I just need to process everything, but can you still be here for me while I do?"
Like a fool, I said, "Of course, Ethan." It was the first time I was hopeful about us in weeks.
We went to his room to have sex. In the middle of it, Ethan choked me and forced me to tell him who was better in bed, him or Max. I'll let you guess who I said won in that competition.
. . .
It was only three nights later and although I had assured Ethan I wasn't falling in love with Max, I wasn't going to let our raw sexual chemistry and connection go to waste.
After all, Ethan was never a sure thing. In fact, he was a probably-never. Max was a maybe.
The night Ethan told me he would get back to me about us dating, for real, also happened to be my second date with Max. Max was a good buffer to have around if I was rejected, I rationalized.
So when Max texted me he was there, at my dorm, about to take me on a real date, I was actually excited. And a little nervous.
Since I had met Max with the perspective of a drunk girl, I worried we wouldn't have the connection I remembered, or perhaps that my sober self would be too boring for him, and Max would join Ethan in the very small list of men who had rejected me.
Max stood, just as dashing as I remembered him, by a pillar outside my dorm.
He looked like the perfect American boy, with his kind but mischievous eyes, and messy but luscious curly hair.
And I felt like the perfect American girl, running out to greet him.
His dark hair and complexion was opposing and yet complementary to my pale and blonde appearance. We looked adorable together, as we smiled and gave each other hesitant hugs.
It was almost as if I had never met Ethan. As if we were just ourselves, and there were no ghosts haunting us.
"Hey, stranger," I said slyly.
I would take one look at Max and blush. Was it possible there were boys after Ethan, that he was not the omnipresent being that would remain in my thoughts for all time?
"Hi, Ava," Max said, his eyes lighting up. "I planned a perfect date for us. I scoured the Internet for the best date spots in town and got us a reservation at this really cool place. People online say it's very romantic. Hopefully you'll like it too," Max said, chuckling.
I could tell he was a little nervous too, and I liked that. I liked that I could make boys nervous and still be attracted to them. It could be the hallmark of the beginning of true love.
"I'm sure I'll like it," I said, just happy and astounded he was putting in any type of effort. It had been a while since I had felt that from someone I liked. "I mean, you picked it, right?"
Then Max and I walked together, holding hands.
It didn't make me uncomfortable; the thought that I had already slept with him alarmed me a little, but I let it fall away.
Dating could be unconventional...I had the feeling that somehow this path would lead me somewhere good.
Part of me hoped it would be to Ethan confessing his feelings for me and demanding we must be together, but another part of me, much smaller, wondered what it would be like to be with Max, the seemingly uncomplicated option.
When we walked into the restaurant, we realized Max, despite his best efforts, was not the best at planning dates and instead of making a reservation at the upscale, romantic restaurant he thought he had, he made one at a dive bar with the same name, minus a letter, in town.
We laughed and went along with it. I thought to myself, we were just happy to be around someone who was happy to be around us, to have an adventure.
The beginning of our second date included comfortable small talk.
I realized I found it difficult to talk to someone about myself without mentioning Ethan; it was as if my unorthodox love affair (and its subsequent angst) had become a personality trait of mine, and I wasn't too sure what to do without it.
Then, just as Max left our table to ask for some (sadly, non-alcoholic) drinks at the bar, my phone buzzed. I knew, before going on this date, that I was waiting for a sign but I was also waiting for a message: Ethan's message. I opened it. God, it was long.
Ava, I thought about it and realized I was right before. We can't be together. It would be really awful for you, and I know I would hurt you too much. So we just need to be friends with benefits. That's all I'm looking for now. So, yeah, it's a no from me, dawg. Final answer.
Sitting there alone in the booth of a darkly lit dive bar, I felt like my heart dropped out of my chest.
Hurt, anger, indignation all came at me at once. Who did he think he was to decide what was best for me?
The most frustrating thing was that I knew, deep down, Ethan wanted me too. He had told me as much. But he would never let us come to fruition, not really.
He was the most frustrating man on Earth to me, and I had done the most ridiculous, pathetic thing I could: I had fallen in love with him.
I didn't let myself cry though. Max had already seen that happen once, and we were nearly strangers. When he came back, he was still all smiles, and I was a burning mess.
"Got your Coke," he said. He had water. He didn't eat sugar. He was capable of cutting the toxins out of his life.
I resisted the urge to let my vision of the Coke cup become blurry, hidden by tears. "Thanks," I said, but my voice was hoarse.
I then went through the pitiful exercise of pretending I was okay while I was dying inside.
Somehow, at my pushing, because I knew what I needed to release, I pushed to talk about our romantic histories.
"So you really haven't dated anyone at college?" I asked. I didn't volunteer the information that I had never dated anyone until I got here, and then I worked my way from old man to young CEO with raging emotional issues.
"No, not really. Well, actually, this is so awkward but I had a friends with benefits thing with this girl who lives in your dorm. I know we talked about how we hated friends with benefits, and you're right. It was kind of awful, so I stopped it."
"A girl who lives in my dorm?" This and Max was good friends with Cassie? It wasn't like this school had 20,000 undergraduate students or anything. "Who?"
"Her name is Hannah. She lives on the second floor." I burst out laughing even though I was still internally falling apart.
Hannah was the girl with the long blonde hair who had stared at me meanly as I cried on the phone with Ethan.
"Yeah, I kind of know her. Why did it end?" I questioned softly.
I felt absolutely no jealousy for Hannah; all of my ability to feel that emotion went towards Savannah and Cassie and so many before me with Ethan.
Ethan told me, it was exactly 80 girls he had slept with before he met me (and then I'm sure a good amount afterwards). Eighty girls who had stared into his eyes as he was inside of them...
I stopped sipping my Coke and shook my head, redirecting my attention back to Max, who was in the middle of saying something.
"Well, honestly, it was pretty recently. Actually, um, after I met you," Max said, blushing.
"You ended that because of me?" I asked, astounded anyone would like me enough to do such a thing.
"Well yeah, I met you and thought, hey, this is a girl I really like. I don't need that. Anyways, she wasn't into me either. She said I wasn't her type."
Oh, how I had heard that before.
Not only had Max demonstrated his desire for me, he wasn't a heartbreaker either. He appeared Ethan's diametric opposite, and yet I was still waiting for him.
"So, I guess, given our conversation on our first date, you haven't had such a great time in your love life." There it was, an invitation for me to spill about another guy. Again.
Just thinking made my eyes watery. "Um, yeah. God, I'm horrible." Was I exactly like Ethan in this moment? "Actually, when you went to get our drinks, I got a text from the guy. The guy Cassie was with. The guy who had me crying like a loser around you, which I'm so sorry about again. I can't even believe you wanted to see me again."
"Of course I wanted to see you again!" Max said, frowning. He didn't like that I had criticized myself. I didn't know any other way.
"Well, anyway, he texted me, and he just told me for sure that we can't ever be together. His exact words were, 'it's a no from me, dawg. Final answer.'" I snorted and then wondered why I was even telling Max this.
Was I trying to have a relationship with him or not? Maybe, maybe in another world where Ethan didn't exist.
But instead of rolling his eyes or looking uncomfortable, Max became my confidante. "It's a no from me, dawg? Final answer?" Max asked, incredulous. "What coke is this man smoking?"
I laughed. "Do people smoke coke?"
"Whatever, Ava. I cannot believe there is actually some man out here rejecting you. You! Who does he think he is?"
I resisted the urge to say, "A 20-year-old CEO recovering actual coke addict dealing with the aftermath of childhood trauma and his own murder of his father."
"I don't know. And I know I shouldn't have told you. Because I do like you. You're nice. I just, I can't help but be a little hurt." It was a lot hurt. Who was I kidding? "And I guess it was just perfect timing. Like he wanted to ruin my date with you."
"Wow," Max said, but I could tell he despised Ethan, not me. I wanted to ask him what else Cassie had told him about Ethan but I worried now was not the time.
"You know what, Ava? I think we should do something to make him jealous. Really get under his skin." I peered at him, intrigued.
"He did say that thinking about us together disgusted him," I said, letting out a small laugh.
"There! Let's go to my dorm after this. I have a little vodka. We can just take a bunch of pictures of us together and post them on your Snapchat. He'll see it, and it'll kill him."
"I can't believe you'd be down for that," I said, unsure. Unsure about if I wanted to use Max and if I ever wanted to hurt Ethan at all, although he had hurt me so many times before. "Wouldn't that make you feel used?"
"No, of course not, Ava. I love that you think I'm cute enough to make this dude jealous. I think it will be fun," Max said. He seemed determined, so I accepted his idea.
It seemed pretty perfect really. It wasn't as if Ethan could get mad that I posted a picture with another guy when he just rejected me anyway.
"Okay, let's do it. It's karma," I smiled. I had found the perfect guy to swipe right on the day I wanted to make Ethan jealous.
"To karma," Max made a cheers. "To karma." I repeated.
When we got to Max's dorm room again, we really did start to have a little fun.
I mean yes, we were sipping vodka, giggling about how Ethan was an absolute asshole and now I could have a better man (Max). But I really did like being around Max.
Yes, he was a distraction. But distractions were fun, and that was good. It kept me from falling apart on my own.
"What did Cassie tell you all about Ethan?" I was tipsy enough to ask for what my heart longed and hated to hear.
"God, what didn't she tell me? She talked about that guy to all of our friends," Max said. I wondered if it annoyed him then and if it was annoying him now.
"She said he was the worst. Manipulated her and she was honestly scared to see him again in public. One time I was with her at the dining hall and we saw him, and I was like, that dude? He's looks a little like a toe."
"Yeah, you're way hotter than him," I agreed, but I didn't see the toe comment at all. Max smirked at me.
"That's why we're taking the pictures. Gotta get him jelly."
I laughed. "Jelly! You sure this is a good idea? What if he gets mad at me?"
"Fuck, let him. You have a million options. You don't need him."
I twisted my lip. But I wanted to need him.
When Max left to the bathroom, I texted Ethan back. We engaged in a super long, frustrating conversation in the four minutes Max was gone, only because my surprising silence infuriated Ethan.
He texted: So that's it? You're just never going to talk to me again?
No, Ethan. I didn't get a chance to respond until now. I'm not sure what to say. You know I'm disappointed. But do you know what's best for me, really? I don't understand why you get to make that decision....when I absolutely adore you and I know we could be wonderful together. I don't care that you're scared of hurting me. Let me make that decision myself.
I can't, Ava. You'll choose wrong. I'm sorry, okay? It's just never going to happen. If we were together, I'd destroy you. Or you'd destroy me. That's happened in the past too.
When you say that, it's like you want me to fawn over you, tell you that it's not true. You are good enough for me, and I'd never hurt you if we were together but you'll never listen. So I don't understand what I'm supposed to do.
I was on a roll of drunken anger, sorrow and truth. And then Max came back in.
I threw my phone to the side once he did. Max and I kissed, naturally at first, feeling each other. He removed his shirt and then he started snapping photos on Snapchat. Each one was a blur until finally there was a perfect picture.
We weren't kissing (we didn't look like sloppy drunk hoes), but I was staring into his eyes, my own eyes lit up like I was truly in love.
And the absence of his shirt would definitely be noted, I thought. So, at Max's persuasion, I pushed Add To My Story.
Ethan would see and he would be sorry. Maybe the sight alone would change everything. I certainly never wanted to see him with Savannah or Cassie or Becca or God knows who.
But I already knew I loved him. He needed some motivation.
About five minutes later the shit hit the fan.
Ethan: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? You're trying to say you want me and I'm good enough while you're fucking some other guy? What is wrong with you? You tried to tell me things would be different with you. Trying to say you wouldn't hurt me and then you purposefully post a picture of you and this fuckboi, trying to manipulate me. You are a piece of shit. Scum. Fuck off forever.
I sat in disbelief, slowly allowing nausea overcome me. This couldn't be happening. No. No. No.
It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Ethan was supposed to confess his love for me, not become enraged that I had done the same things he'd been doing with Savannah and Cassie and so many others.
And I hadn't even done anything with Max tonight! The incredulity of him telling me to fuck off for doing something he'd been doing to me for months lingered over me, but then I started to question it.
Maybe posting a photograph with Max was a betrayal of the highest form. Even if Ethan and I hadn't been together, I had still told him I would never do anything to hurt him, that I only wanted him to be happy...and then I did this.
I looked up at Max, horrified by what I had done and its repercussions.
"What did he say?" Max's eyebrow was raised, both curious and nervous.
"I don't think I should have done this. No, no. This was bad." I was losing track of my thoughts; I didn't want to accept that Ethan sent such a horrible, angry text. I had to do something.
I agonized over my phone. I realized I had no answers.
Ethan I'm sorry! I didn't realize you would care so much that I posted a picture with another guy. I mean, you just said that you just wanted to be FWB. That was your final answer. So I was trying to do that. Don't you see this upsets me too? You're only this upset because you care! You care about us.
No. Any small amount of positive feeling for you or ability to care was just destroyed forever. I'm going to fucking kill him.
A very quiet siren rang off in my head, reminding me that threats to kill were never good and were almost always signs of an abuser.
But my mind wasn't ready to accept that, so it riddled over how I could undo this damage, how I could show him we still were good.
Please don't say that. I didn't mean to ruin everything with us. It's just a picture. I don't even care about him. I just want to be with you! Please...
At this point, I was a little confused what exactly I was apologizing for, but I knew whatever I had done was horrible. I was horrible. I felt it in my entire being.
Ethan wasn't lying; he wasn't trying to be cruel. If I had hurt him like this, then maybe I was a piece of shit like he said. But I didn't want to be. Panic engulfed me. I couldn't breathe easily. I forgot Max was there as I cried over my phone.
"What's going on?" Max asked. "Ava?"
"God, why did we do that? I'm so stupid," I repeated. I was the worst person in the world, and Ethan's feelings were the only ones that mattered.
"Ava, whatever he's saying, he's full of shit. You don't need him. I'm telling you. You shouldn't be here crying because a guy you know fucks tons of girls when you're not there is butt hurt you posted a picture with a shirtless guy."
There was some reason in what Max was saying, but I couldn't face it. I just shook my head and cried.
I grabbed my belongings and ran. "I'm so sorry, Max. I just--- I fucked up." I meant that I fucked up with Ethan, but I was upset that I had used Max too, that I was so cruel to him now, just abandoning him. I didn't even recognize myself anymore.
When I ran out into the dark grassy area of Max's dorm quad and started the walk to my own, I tried to text Ethan again, but his rage was something that could not be controlled.
For the first time, I was scared of him. I wasn't scared when he confessed murder, but I was scared now. Unfortunately, my love for him outweighed any fear. And that's how abusers get you.
I'm going to fucking kill him. If I see you two together, I'm shooting him with my gun. I might shoot you too.
Ethan, you aren't going to see us together! I'll never talk to him again if that's what you need for us to be okay. Please, I'm so sorry...
No. We're done, Ava. I never want to speak to you again. Fuck off.
Sheer desperation hit me as I sent what seemed like a million texts to him, all with no answer. I begged him to call me. I begged him to let me explain.
If my mind wasn't so hazy from his manipulation and subtle emotional abuse, I might have wondered why my one slightly shady photograph was enough to end everything but I had been letting him off the hook for any romantic entanglement he bragged about.
I wanted him so much it was breaking me.
I started calling him a million times but he didn't pick up.
In full-on panic mode, I texted Riley.
Hey Riley, do you know if Ethan's okay? I think he's having a meltdown and I just want to make sure he's alright and that he knows how much I need to talk to him... I just want to tell him I'm sorry.
Riley didn't wait to text back.
Hey Ava! He's in his room...what's going on between you two?
I messed up. He's mad that I posted a picture with some other guy on Snapchat. Can you tell him how sorry I am?
Ah, right, the dark haired boy in your story. Funny he would get mad about that. I'll talk to him.
At this point, I was in my room, pacing. Liv looked up at me strangely, as if she couldn't fathom me at all.
Suddenly, Ethan returned my call. I raced out to my dorm's hallway and then outside on the porch, knowing I couldn't bear if Liv heard how truly desperate my situation was.
"Why the fuck do you keep calling me?" He screamed from the other line.
"Ethan! I'm so sorry. Please, listen to me. I didn't realize that posting the picture would hurt you. I honestly thought you didn't care."
"No, no, you purposefully tried to manipulate me. You knew that I wouldn't be able to handle it, that I would have a fucking breakdown."
I scrunched my eyes. My grasp of this reality was fading. Had I tried to take advantage of Ethan, knowing he would explode and thinking he would feel he had to do something to keep me in his life? Clearly it hadn't worked.
"No, Ethan. I didn't. I promise. What can I do to fix things? I'll do anything."
I sat on a bench on the front porch of the 1920s style dorm, rocking myself back and forth. From the corner of my eye, I saw a female figure with blonde hair behind some bushes, but I ignored it.
I could only focus on Ethan. I never believed people when they said they would do anything to fix something, but in this moment I meant it completely.
"There's nothing you can do to fix this. I don't want you anymore. There's nothing you can say to change my mind. I mean, fuck, you think there's anything you can say to change this? We are completely fucked up together. I am fucked up. And now you are too," he growled.
"What can I say to change this?" I said the only thing I had. "I love you, Ethan. Let me fix this because I love you! I've never loved anyone before in my life, and I love you so much. And I'll do anything for us to still have each other, in whatever way you want us to be together." I sobbed. I was broken.
If a different version of myself sat watching this scene, as Hannah did in the bushes, hidden, I would look on in disbelief.
How could a girl's self-esteem shrivel up so that she felt so small that she felt she had to save a boy who thought nothing of her and always would? Where did this blind love and persistence come from? I would ask, like all the others who watched my Ethan-centric fall.
Just let him go, they screamed and I would say the same as a stranger. But I knew the girl sitting there crying too well.
She might have seemed blind or just plain stupid, but it was only because he carefully molded her this way.
He said all the right things to keep her coming back, to make her feel there might be hope while forcing her to put her own desires and self-worth aside because in her world his self-worth was the only one that mattered.
She had never truly had someone who told her otherwise, that she should come first.
So when he treated her like trash, it didn't really feel like disrespect. It felt comfortable. It reminded her of home. And she didn't want to lose her home.
"You love me?" He laughed. "I don't care." He spat through the phone like the thought of my love burned him.
There had never been such a cruel rejection in my life. I had felt this way subconsciously with my father, but now it felt all my life I had never been enough and I would never be enough.
All I had wanted to do was to love and be loved by a man. It was an impossible dream, and it was a horrible one to have.
"Please, Ethan... What can I do?" I kept repeating the same words like they might change something, and finally, after moments of silence, he relented.
"You're never going to talk to that guy ever again, okay? Not if you want us to have any sort of relationship. You need to show me a text that tells him you're not going to speak to him again. Okay?"
I began forgetting if I was the desperate one or he was. Why was he so possessive if he didn't care about my love? Did he just see me as property? Could love exist in his heart? Why did I want to see if it could so much?
"I promise I will, Ethan. I'll do anything. I don't care about him at all," I said, immediately feeling guilty about it. The blonde girl disappeared into the night.
"Okay..." Ethan said more softly like maybe he was calming down. "I didn't mean to say I'd kill you both, but I'm so mad at you. I can't control my brain when it gets like this."
"I know, baby," I said sweetly, accepting this like it was normal. Like girls always do with their abusive boyfriends (and he refused to even be my boyfriend).
Finally, we had a brisk hang up, but I felt I had done it.
I had saved us, and he had allowed me to because secretly he desperately wanted us too.
I thought the storm was over, that we would be fine somehow even though nothing logically pointed to this. I thought all of this until I was in my bed in the dark, Liv already asleep across the room, unaware of the psychological warfare I just engaged with, and my phone lit up again.
I had already sent Ethan proof of me ending my stint with Max.
It went like this:
I'm sorry, Max, but I don't think we should see each other anymore.
Okay. Whatever you need to do.
It was Ethan now:
You went behind my back and talked to my roommate about me? Fuck you. I take back everything I said. You're blocked. I'm never talking to you again.
I did the same circus activity, crying and begging over text for him to come to his senses. But this time, he didn't. He just didn't respond.
To anyone who has gone through the mind numbing feeling of 'love is blindness' when they're in an unhealthy relationship, this chapter is dedicated to you.
When we feel most unlovable is when we seek out love the most, even if what we have is nothing of the sort. Hoping everyone who has found themselves as Ava in this chapter finds healing and happiness.
Please do leave a review and let me know what you think!