Chapter 4

Ethan Sherman was my college classmate and the male friend I had known the longest.

If Zack was like lukewarm water, Ethan was straight whiskey: bold, passionate, and hard to miss.

Back in college, Ethan was the lead singer of the campus band. At six foot two, with chiseled features and a sharp jawline, he could make every girl in the crowd turn their heads when he stepped on stage.

Our relationship was always a bit delicate. For four years, we were the kind of friends who could talk until three in the morning, roast each other's love lives, and drink ourselves silly together after a breakup.

Some people said we had something going on, others thought we were more than friends, but we never crossed that line.

After graduation, Ethan moved to Millbrook to become a music producer, and we slowly drifted apart. Later, when I married Zack, he only sent a single message saying "Congrats," and that was it.

I always had a feeling Ethan had a thing for me, but he never made it clear, so I acted like I didn't know.

But right at the moment, I really needed him.

"Ethan, I need you to come over." I took a deep breath. "I need you to pretend to be my super close guy bestie."

There was a three-second pause on the other end.

Then Ethan laughed, his voice low and genuinely amused, as if he'd just heard something really interesting.

"Guy bestie?" he echoed, his tone teasing. "Anne, are you up to something wild?"

"Yeah." I watched Bella elbow Zack in the arm as they both cracked up. "I'm about to pull off something big."

"Sure." Ethan didn't ask anything else. "I've got three days off next week. Is that enough?"

"That's enough," I said.

"Alright, it's settled. I'll come find you then," Ethan said.

After I hung up, something inside me finally settled.

Since Bella loved hogging another woman's husband under the "bro" label, and since she loved hiding her scheming behind that carefree act, I would show her exactly what it meant to beat her at her own game.

Zack had his girl-bro. I had my male bestie. Game on.

*****

For the next three days, I didn't comment on anything Bella did.

Zack, on the other hand, seemed a bit thrown off. He asked me twice, "Anne, you're not mad anymore, are you?"

I smiled. "I've thought it over. You're right. I should be more chill about it."

Zack looked relieved, and that very night, Bella asked him out for drinks again.

I didn't stop him. Instead, I stayed home, opened my closet, and started going through my clothes.

Over the past two years, trying to be the perfect wife, I'd ended up dressing more and more plainly without even realizing it. My closet was mostly filled with plain shirts and pants, and I barely wore makeup anymore.

But Bella? She always played the effortlessly cool tomboy in front of everyone else, but when it came to Zack, her effortless look was totally calculated.

She'd wear those hoodies that looked casual but were actually expensive designer pieces, and her short hair always looked like she'd just rolled out of bed, but every strand was perfectly styled.

I couldn't keep living like this.

*****

On Friday afternoon, Ethan texted me: [I'm coming tomorrow.]

I replied: [Cool.]

Then I texted Zack: [I've got a college buddy coming over tomorrow. Let's have dinner together.]

Zack replied almost instantly: [Guy or girl?]

[Guy.]

This time, Zack took a full five minutes to reply: [Which classmate? How come I never heard about him?]

[Ethan Sherman from college. You probably haven't met him.]

Three minutes later, Zack replied: [Alright, let's have dinner tomorrow.]

I set my phone down, a little smile creeping onto my face.

On Saturday at noon, Ethan showed up right on time outside my building.

I went downstairs to meet him, and from a distance, I spotted a tall figure leaning against a black SUV.

Ethan was wearing a black trench coat over a white T-shirt, dark jeans, and a pair of limited-edition boots. His hair was a bit shorter than it was in college, but it still had that effortless, yet polished look.

It had been two years since I'd last seen him, and somehow he seemed even taller and more magnetic than I remembered. That calm confidence and certainty, the kind only a mature man possessed, gave him an aura one couldn't ignore.