---- Chapter 5 Ethan placed the tea tray down, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "What were you saying about the accident, Ava?" | met his gaze. "Just that it must have been terrifying for Chloe." He visibly relaxed. "Terrifying," he agreed, pouring tea. "But she's a fighter. Aren't you, sweetheart?" He beamed at Chloe, who preened under his attention. Chloe, oblivious to the undercurrents, turned back to me. "So, Ava, your wedding with Liam! When is it? Have you set a date? I'm so excited to help plan! We can be wedding buddies!" Ethan stiffened. "Chloe, honey, let's not overwhelm Ava. They're probably still figuring things out." He shot me a warning look. | just smiled faintly. "We're thinking springtime. At the Botanical Garden." "Oh, how lovely!" Chloe clapped her hands. The conversation moved on, but the tension Ethan brought into the room lingered. My arm healed, leaving a faint, silvery scar. The fall into the Hudson left me with a lingering cough and a deep-seated weariness. But with each passing day, with each new betrayal from Ethan, a strange thing happened. The pain lessened. It was being replaced by a cold, hard resolve. | was detaching, piece by piece. ---- Ethan remained largely absent from my "recovery." He was too busy with Chloe. Their Instagram was a daily chronicle of their blissful reunion. Romantic dinners, weekend getaways, couple selfies with glowing captions. #PerfectMatch #Soulmates. Chloe would sometimes message me directly. "Look, Ava! Ethan took me to this adorable little vineyard! You and Liam should totally go!" Followed by a picture of her and Ethan kissing, a picturesque sunset behind them. She wasn't being malicious. She genuinely thought we were all one big happy, extended family. She was validating her happiness, seeking approval from her "future sister-in-law." Ethan's comments on her posts were effusive, over-the-top. "My beautiful Chloe! So lucky to have you back in my life. @" It was a stark contrast to how he'd been with me on social media. Always more reserved, more private. He'd rarely posted pictures of us, and when he did, the captions were simple, almost perfunctory. | watched it all with a kind of clinical detachment. It was data. Evidence. Fuel for the fire that was slowly building inside me. One afternoon, Liam found me staring at my scarred forearm. "It will fade," he said quietly, his voice gentle. "| know." | looked up at him. "I'm getting a tattoo." His eyebrows rose slightly. "A tattoo?" "Over the scar. Something... meaningful." He didn't ask what. He just nodded. "It's your skin, Ava. Your story to tell." A few days later, Ethan insisted on picking me up from a follow ---- -up doctor's appointment. He was trying to maintain some semblance of our old routine, to act like my boyfriend, even as he was living a completely different life with Chloe. "Where's Chloe?" | asked as | got into his car. "Oh, she's having a spa day. | thought we could have some... us time." He smiled, that charming, practiced smile. "Just like old times." He reached over and took my hand. His touch felt foreign, unwelcome. "| got you something," he said, pulling a small, velvet box from his pocket. Inside was a delicate diamond necklace. "To make up for... everything." "It's beautiful, Ethan," | said, my voice flat. "But | can't accept it" "Ava, come on. Don't be like this." "Like what? Like Liam's fiancée? Because that's what | am." He sighed, frustrated. "It's just a role, Ava. You know that." He then announced, "I'm taking you to Mount Beacon. Remember that hike we did? With the fire tower? We had that amazing picnic at the top." He was trying to recreate a memory, a time when we'd been happy. Or when | thought we'd been happy. He didn't ask if | wanted to go. He just drove. During the drive, he was attentive, asking about my work, complimenting my new haircut. He was playing the part of the caring boyfriend. The hike was strenuous. My body still ached from the fall, my ---- lungs still felt tight. But | pushed on, Ethan occasionally offering a hand, a bottle of water. We reached the summit, the view sprawling beneath us. It was beautiful, | had to admit. He'd even packed a picnic, similar to the one we'd had years ago. As | reached for a sandwich, my foot slipped on a loose rock. | cried out, stumbling.