I didn't sleep that night. I could hear the low murmur of voices from Ethan's study, followed by soft laughter that went on late into the night.
I sat on my balcony, smoking one cigarette after another, watching the glowing embers fade into the darkness.
The next morning, I came downstairs to find Amelia in the kitchen, humming as she arranged flowers in a vase. She looked radiant, like a woman deeply in love.
"Good morning, Ava," she said cheerfully. "I was just talking to Ethan about his birthday party next week. He's turning twenty-nine. We're thinking of a simple dinner with close friends. You'll come, won't you?"
Ethan's birthday. June 20th.
I remembered when I was sixteen, he'd promised me that for his thirtieth birthday, I would be the one to plan the entire celebration.
Now, I wasn't even sure I'd get an invitation.
"I'll see," I mumbled, pouring myself a glass of water.
Just then, Ethan walked in, dressed in a sharp suit. He went straight to Amelia, kissing her on the cheek. "Good morning."
His eyes briefly met mine, cold and distant.
"I'm heading out," I said, wanting to escape.
"Wait," Ethan's voice stopped me. It was flat, devoid of emotion. "The lawyer will call you this afternoon about your student visa. Make sure you answer."
I stiffened. He was already planning for me to leave the country for college. He couldn't wait to get rid of me.
"Don't cause any trouble, Ava. You're not a child anymore," he warned, his tone leaving no room for argument.
He took Amelia's hand, and they walked out together, their figures framed perfectly by the morning sun.
As their car pulled away, the sky opened up, and a sudden downpour began.
I remembered when I was fourteen, I forgot my umbrella and got caught in a storm. Ethan had driven all the way to my school, holding a large black umbrella, and wrapped me in his coat, scolding me for being careless.
Back then, his scolding felt like the warmest embrace in the world.
Now, he held the umbrella for someone else.
I stepped out into the rain, letting the cold water soak me to the bone. I walked without a destination, the rain washing away my unshed tears.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out. It was a notification from Instagram.
Ethan Hayes had just posted his first-ever picture. It was a photo of his hand intertwined with Amelia's. The caption was simple: "My future."
My fingers felt numb.
I opened the comment section and, with a strange sense of calm, typed out a reply.
"Congratulations."
It was the last piece of my heart I had left to give him. And now, it was gone too.
