Chapter 4

Her reply was almost instantaneous:

[There's a red-eye flight tonight. Can you make it?]

I pulled the matching pajamas out of my suitcase and tossed them onto the sofa.

[Yes. I'm all packed.]

I didn't own much, just basic daily necessities.

Because Ethan insisted on maintaining boundaries even at home, our belongings were strictly separated. Packing took no time at all.

There was nothing left behind.

Still.

My eyes swept over Ethan's workspace.

On his desk sat Lillian's designer headband.

On his beloved desktop plant hung a Christmas trinket Lillian gave him.

His open laptop screen still displayed the capstone thesis he was editing for Lillian.

A suffocating weight settled on my chest. My years of quiet patience and loyalty felt like a giant, humiliating joke.

Just as I zipped up my bags, the front door clicked open. Ethan walked in.

"Maya, haven't eaten yet, right? I brought you something great."

He smiled gently, as if our fight had never happened.

He popped open the takeout containers. Looking at the mountain of seasoned shrimp, my lips twisted into a dry smile.

"Thanks for bringing me seafood. You know I'm severely allergic."

"Must be nice celebrating Lillian winning the only job offer, then packing up her leftovers for me."

His smile froze.

"Maya, stop acting like this. It's just food."

He reached out to hold my hand.

"Yes, we went out to celebrate, but we didn't invite you because we didn't want you to feel bad."

When I pulled away, he sighed heavily.

"Lillian passed the interview, and you didn't. You... look."

"I know you wanted to get into top tech. But your GPA isn't as high, and honestly, your interview performance wasn't as polished as hers today. You stuttered on several answers. It makes sense you didn't get it."

I stayed silent.

Did he really have the audacity to act like he didn't know "why" I stuttered?

Feeling the burn of my stare, his gaze shifted uncomfortably.

"I have a plan. Tomorrow, go interview with some smaller firms first. Get some work experience, and I'll find a way to transfer you into our company later."

"Once your interviews are done, we'll fly to Austin. Deal?"

His eyes looked almost sincere.

Yet my heart was completely numb.

Even if I did what he said, would anything change?

If I got into his company, would he keep enforcing his "boundaries"? Keeping so much distance that my colleagues would assume I offended him and ostracize me all over again?

I had endured four miserable years of that in college. I wasn't doing it for the rest of my life.

Besides...

"Ethan, do you even remember what Austin is to me?"

He paused, confused. "A great vacation spot?"

The last lingering spark in my eyes faded into pitch-black darkness.

Ten years ago, our families took a summer trip to Austin.

A massive highway disaster struck.

My father was crushed right before my eyes. The horrific screech of tearing metal and the shrieks of dying victims shattered my eardrums.

I went deaf that day.

Ever since, Austin gave me severe, debilitating PTSD.

When we got home back then, young Ethan threw away everything connected to Austin. He tossed souvenirs, tore down posters, and even used a black marker to scrub the city's name off our state maps.

All because he couldn't bear to see me hurt.

And now, he booked tickets there with a smile, calling it a getaway.

I looked at him, my eyes burning.

He opened his mouth to say something, but his phone rang.

He answered instantly.

Lillian's bubbly voice carried through the speaker:

"Ethan! Did you make the itinerary yet? The top ten sights in Austin..."

His expression melted into effortless tenderness.

"Babe, what's the rush? I'm pulling it up right now..."

Still talking, he turned toward his study, tapped on his computer, and began saving travel photos to a shared folder.

Looking at the familiar street names on his screen, nausea surged up my throat.

I couldn't breathe in this room for another second.

Gripping my suitcase handle, I walked out the door and never looked back.