The yacht docked just after dawn.
No one said a word. Not Ethan. Not Jonathan. Not even Sophia, whose sobs last night had almost sounded real. Almost.
I stepped off the deck in silence, every inch of me drenched in salt and humiliation, the sea still clinging to my skin like shame.
But that wasn’t what drowned me.
Ethan had pushed me. Shoved me. Into black water. And he hadn’t flinched.
“That’s what you get,” he’d said later. “For acting like an entitled little bitch.”
There was no apology. No hand offered. Just ice in his voice and zero guilt in his eyes.
And the man who pulled me out— the one who saved me? He was gone. He didn’t leave a name or anything. It was almost like I had imagined him.
I made it back to the apartment soaked and shaking. I still didn’t cry. Instead, I packed.
My drawers opened rapidly and I quickly filled my suitcase with clothes, passports, and the family crest my grandmother left me. Everything I owned that wasn’t touched by them.
I was folding my last coat when my phone buzzed.
It was Sophia, texting me without shame. [Hey Evanny, check out my new post!]
I already knew what it was. Still, I opened it.
There she was, draped in my pastel green silk robe— the one I’d gotten in Italy. Ethan was shirtless beside her, with his face pressed to her neck. Jonathan was lounging on the other side, hand wrapped around her waist like she was royalty.
The caption read: [Had the best night ever with my fav boys! Thanks for all the cake and wine! Oh and Evanny, Ethan so sweetly gifted me your brand new car, said it suited me more. But of course, you can always borrow it… if you ask nicely!]
I laughed as I saw the post of my car next. It was a single, sharp breath of disbelief. Then I tapped the like icon on the post and watched the heart turn red. And tossed the phone onto the bed.
Tomorrow, I’d be gone. And I wasn’t taking ghosts with me.
---
I handed in my resignation at work that afternoon. I handed it in with a bright smile and walked away like I wasn’t cleaning out my life from the inside out.
Back at the apartment, I pulled out the old leather box that had been hidden under the bed for months. It contained all the remnants of my old life. A life that was filled with lies and fake promises.
It held Ethan’s watch, the one that was engraved with words that only the both of us knew. It was still frozen at 3:14 a.m— the night he first said he loved me. Jonathan’s little pocket book, where we used to sit for hours and write song lyrics, and the first birthday card that Sophia ever gave me.
The jacket Ethan gave me on our first trip to Mexico. It still smelled faintly like him— his manly cologne and the smell of the beach.
Jonathan’s dented helmet was there, covered in scribbles from our road trip that never happened. And a tiny music box. The song we all swore would be ours. Now silent forever.
I struck a match. The leather caught fast. I watched it curl, darken, and quickly disappear.
In went the love letters. The gifts. The pretty lies. The past went up in smoke.
Ethan burst in first. His eyes were wide and his face was pale. “Evanny! what the fuck are you doing?!”
“Taking out the trash,” I said, never looking up.
“These aren’t just things!” He moved closer like he wanted to take them out of the burning flames, panic breaking through his voice. “This is us! All of us!”
Jonathan followed behind him, grabbing for the jacket, and yanking his hand back when fire singed his fingers.
“You’ve lost your mind,” Ethan spat. “You just destroyed everything we had.”
I met his eyes, calm and final. “You gave my car to Sophia. She can have the memories too.”
Ethan’s voice cracked. “You’re really doing this? After everything you did at her party last night?”
I smiled. “This is me— finally done with all of you.”
They stood there, helpless, watching the smoke twist toward the ceiling.
It was funny. They would’ve burned cities for Sophia’s fake tears.
But when I was drowning? Not one of them tried to save me.
Now they were shedding tears for ash.
