wish
It was the third year of my secret relationship with Ethan Miller, and he still refused to go public. At a party, someone teased him, “Ethan, Ashley’s gorgeous. Haven’t you ever fallen for her after all this time?” I watched him clinking glasses with someone else, a flicker of hope in my chest. He leaned back, nonchalant. “Don’t be ridiculous. Ashley and I are just friends.” My
heart sank. “Yeah,” I said, the words flat. “We’re
just friends.”
The air thickened. Someone jumped in to
smooth things over. “Well, that’s good news!
My buddy has a huge crush on Ashley.” He
turned to me. “Ashley, want me to give you his
number?”
Before I could respond, Ethan set down his
drink and came up behind me, his arm draped
<
casually over my shoulder. He gave the guy a
look. “Back off. She’s my friend. And a good
one, at that. Keep your sleazy friends away
from her.”
I shrugged off Ethan’s arm. “Actually, give me
his number. I’m always open to meeting new
people.” The friend quickly handed me his
business card, and I added him on my phone.
Looking up, I caught Ethan’s eyes, a strange
mix of amusement and something else I
couldn’t quite place. A dull ache spread through
my chest. I started to leave, but Ethan stopped
me, pulling out his phone. “Ashley, smile for the
camera.”
The photo captured both of our faces. Him,
handsome and smirking. Me, pale and empty-
eyed. He posted it immediately with the
caption: “Friendship goals.”
Something inside me snapped. This was the
third year of our relationship, a secret shared
only between us.
I excused myself to the restroom. Staring at
myself in the mirror, I opened Ethan’s post and commented, “Friendship goals.” Then, I left.
Ethan called to ask where I was. I said I wasn’t
feeling well, and he left it at that, telling me to
rest.
I didn’t go back to my apartment. Instead, I
went to Ethan’s. I stayed over sometimes, but
there was never a trace of me in the living room
or anywhere else. All my things were tucked
away in the master bathroom. He didn’t want
anyone to know. “I prefer to keep my private
life private,” he’d said. “If you can accept that,
we can be together.” A perfect excuse. Even
without it, I probably wouldn’t have been able to
say no. I owed his family, and him, a lot.
<
Now, I realized it wasn’t his private life he
wanted hidden. It was me.
I used my key to let myself in, heading for the
master bedroom. But in the living room, I saw it
a giant strawberry teddy bear on the couch.
It wasn’t mine. And it definitely wasn’t Ethan’s.
Suddenly, tonight’s Facebook post made sense.
It was meant for another girl. Surprisingly, I
didn’t feel that much pain.
I gathered my things from the bedroom. Then, I
took off the necklace I’d worn for three years.
The pendant was a ring, a gift from Ethan. I’d
never worn it in public. It was time to let it go.
