Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Ethan and I started fighting—well, more like I was giving him the silent treatment.

Over the past few days, I'd thought long and hard, replaying our four years together.

It seemed like I was the only one putting in any effort.

I didn't know what this even counted as.

Ethan didn't care about me. He took my kindness for granted.

He'd never liked me—not then, not now.

We hadn't talked in days.

Looking at our WeChat chat box, the last conversation was two weeks ago.

I'd asked him what he was doing.

He didn't reply, so I called him.

When we fought, if I didn't go to him, he'd never come to me. In these two weeks, we hadn't seen each other once.

People around campus started gossiping that we'd broken up, that our relationship was over.

People had said that before, but I'd never paid attention. I'd always thought Ethan would never like anyone else. And he wouldn't—just like he'd never liked me.

I thought—maybe this was the end for us.

I flipped through the photos I had with Ethan, only to find there were barely any. Most of them were photos I'd taken of him alone: Ethan eating, Ethan studying, Ethan on the basketball court... I wanted to capture every moment of him.

He rarely smiled at me, but I'd never cared.

I'd always thought—as long as he was with me, as long as I was his girlfriend, as long as... he was nice to me, that was enough.

But now, I couldn't hold onto him anymore.

I didn't know how long I'd been moping around until I heard the news.

The senior was back in the country.

My friends told me right away, waiting to see how I'd react.

I just froze for a second, then forced a smile: "So she's back... so what?"

My best friend was worried about me, but I told her I was fine.

I didn't know how I felt about Ethan anymore. I just felt lost. For the first two days, I cried until my eyes were swollen. After that, I couldn't even cry anymore—I just felt numb.

In this relationship, I'd lived so humbly.

I saw the senior.

She was standing at the school gate, wearing a pure white dress. She had a slender figure, long hair reaching her waist, lips as red as peaches, and skin as fair as jade—so beautiful she didn't seem real.

So this was the type Ethan liked.

That was my first thought.

She seemed to be looking for someone. After a few minutes, I saw a familiar figure.

It was Ethan.

He came down the stairs on the right, walking straight toward her.

He was wearing a black jacket, broad-shouldered and long-legged, his figure tall and lean—like a perfectly sculpted statue.

The two of them together looked like a scene from a movie. The senior had a gentle personality. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I saw Ethan's lips curve slightly—he was smiling.

They looked so perfect together.

Ethan didn't come to find me. I thought we'd just keep ignoring each other like this.

Or break up.

Then, one night, I saw he'd sent me a message—something he rarely did.

[Where are you?]

I only replied with a single dot: [.]

He called me right away.

"Elena Bennett, we need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," I said, hanging up quickly.

Ethan called again. I didn't answer.

I didn't know how long this would go on. I pretended not to care about him, to be indifferent.

This went on until one night.

I saw him with the senior again, near the school gate.

They stood facing each other. I couldn't see the senior's face, only Ethan's.

Under the bright, glowing lights, Ethan's features looked even more sharp and deep. His eyes were a light color, his skin pale and clear. He looked so clean-cut.

Then, something I never expected happened. The senior had her head down, but whatever Ethan said seemed to upset her. She looked up suddenly and kissed him.

They were kissing.

But that wasn't the worst part. The part I couldn't accept was—

Ethan didn't push her away.

He just let her kiss him.

I stood not far away, frozen, watching the scene. For a moment, my mind went blank.

Ethan seemed to see me.

I didn't even remember how I left.

I was so angry, so tired, so disappointed, so hurt. I sat on the steps alone, hugging my phone, crying. The cold wind blew into my nose, making me shiver violently.

I suddenly hated myself—hated how weak I was in front of Ethan, how my mood depended on his every move, how I'd compromised for him over and over again.

The late autumn wind had no warmth at all. It felt like a cold knife, piercing my skin little by little.

I didn't know how long I sat there crying—my vision blurred by tears, my whole body shaking, gasping for breath between sobs.

I'd thought I wouldn't care—wouldn't care about Ethan and Sophia, wouldn't care about him and the senior, wouldn't care about our future. But I was wrong. Four years of feelings were like a lottery ticket that had turned out to be a loser. I'd gained nothing.

Not even Ethan's love.

Elena Bennett, you coward.

You don't even have the courage to step forward, claim what's yours, and push them apart.

When did you become so weak, so fragile?

After what felt like forever, one of the street lamps went out. I got a call from Ethan.

"Elena Bennett, where are you?"

I could hear the wind on his end, and his voice sounded a little urgent.

I was sobbing too hard to speak, my chest tight with tears.

He seemed to realize something, pausing for a second before asking why I was crying.

After a long time, the sweat on my back turned cold. I wiped my tears messily, brushing the messy hair away from my face, trying to steady my voice. Into the phone, I said softly:

"Ethan Carter, I don't want you anymore."

"I won't like you anymore."

"Let's break up."

That was the second time I'd hung up on him without letting him speak.

I deleted his WeChat, his phone number—everything. I'd begged him to add me on WeChat once, swearing I'd keep it forever. I never thought I'd be the one to delete him in the end.

I erased all contact with him. That month, I often dreamed of him—dreamed of our high school days, dreamed of the day I'd confessed to him during PE class.

But I didn't like Ethan as much anymore.

Each day passed, and my feelings for him faded a little more.

Word of our breakup spread quickly—soon, almost the entire school knew.

Of course it did—he was the campus heartthrob.

Now that we were broken up, all those girls could finally make their move.

Later, I heard Ethan hadn't gotten together with the senior.

I didn't know if he'd rejected her.

And Sophia Wilson—she'd confessed to Ethan too, right after class one day. But he'd turned her down on the spot.

The next spring was a little cold. It had been five months since we broke up.

I didn't know if I'd really moved on, but when I looked at Ethan now, my heart no longer raced.

I thought I didn't like Ethan Carter anymore.

Four years of effort had finally turned to dust. My love for Ethan sank straight into the ocean.

I didn't see him much—most of the time, I just caught a glimpse of him from afar, or passed him by in the hallway. He seemed to have lost weight—taller than ever, his face gaunt, his features sharp and thin.

It was easy to be misled by his appearance.