Chapter 3

Looking at Tom's shocked, worried face, I forced a bitter smile.

"She was dead to the world. Didn't even know I was there."

"There was no screaming match."

"But Noah woke up. He saw me."

That night, Noah took me up to the roof of their apartment building, standing by the maintenance exit. He was clutching a metal lockbox.

The wind was howling. We were completely alone.

Noah turned around and popped the box open.

"When my parents scammed half the town and skipped out, every kid in this neighborhood treated me like a disease. You were the only one who looked at me."

"We've been inseparable since we were boys."

"If it wasn't for you, I'd still be trapped in that abusive marriage."

"Because of that... you deserve to know."

The box was stuffed with letters.

I pulled one out and unfolded it.

It was Claire's handwriting.

You're still the person I look up to. You deserve to be happy. Let me help.

Fighting for you is a privilege. I'll do whatever it takes.

Ethan can't live without me. But I can't live without you.

I checked the date. It was the exact same day I had asked Claire to go check on Noah when he was in the hospital recovering from domestic violence.

Claire had been writing to Noah for years.

The date on the very first letter was the day after our high school graduation.

If I were stronger, you wouldn't have to leave town for work. I hate how powerless I am.

So during our sophomore year of college, when Claire wanted to drop out and move away for work... she was trying to go to Noah?

Every tiny detail I had brushed off, every little inconsistency I had forgotten, suddenly slammed into me all at once.

No wonder Claire was always so eager to visit Noah with me every summer.

No wonder Noah knitted me a sweater, then used the exact same leftover yarn to knit Claire a scarf.

No wonder Claire, knowing it was a conflict of interest to represent Noah directly in his divorce, still pulled strings to get him a lawyer and helped him behind the scenes.

From the very beginning, they had viewed me as the obstacle.

The summer wind on that roof felt colder than a blizzard.

Noah looked at me, his voice trembling.

"You sent me money for years, Ethan. You got me jobs. I'd be dead without you."

"I never wanted to hurt you. But me and Claire... this is real."

He backed up against the maintenance door, dropping his head and sobbing.

"I'm sorry. If you want to walk away with some dignity, just sign a separation agreement and leave us alone."

"I'll leave before Claire comes up here."

He bolted for the stairwell.

I stared at the empty space. I remembered the days after his parents abandoned him, how he was left all alone in the neighborhood. I brought him to my house for dinner every single night. I begged my parents to treat him like family, to look after him like a second son.

And this was how he repaid me? He and Claire?

My entire world shattered.

I charged down the stairs and kicked the bedroom door open.

Claire saw me. Shock flashed across her face, followed instantly by guilt as she looked down.

I threw the stack of letters at her feet and stepped closer.

"If you didn't love me, why did you walk with me to get that spare key?"

"Why did you make me weave my hair into that bracelet?"

"Why were you writing to Noah the day after we finally got together?"

Claire immediately threw her arms out, shielding Noah behind her, and shoved me back.

Neighbors started shouting in the hallway. Someone pounded on the door, telling us to keep it down.

I stumbled backward, slamming into the wardrobe.

Claire looked at me, her eyes red.

"Ethan, it's not that I didn't love you."

"I just... I fell in love with Noah first."

Nearly a decade of sweet memories turned into ash in my mouth.

It wasn't until that exact second that I realized they had spent years justifying my existence as a roadblock to their tragic romance.

No. I didn't believe it.

And I couldn't accept it.

Noah stood by the door, weeping softly.

"If you're only with Ethan because you owe him, let me go."

"I don't deserve this anyway. I'm used to being alone."

"Forget about me."

He turned and ran out of the apartment.

For the first time in her life, Claire completely lost her composure.

"Noah!"

Her voice was practically tearing at the seams.

That was when I finally understood. Her desperation, her loss of control—it was never for me.

I leaned against the wardrobe. My legs could barely hold my weight.

"Claire. You go after him—"

"We're done."

Claire stopped and looked back at me.

Her eyes were a storm of conflicting emotions, but her feet didn't stop moving.

She chased him.

When I told Tom that part of the story, his brow furrowed deeply.

He lit a cigarette, took one look at my pale face, and immediately stubbed it out.

After a long silence, he muttered, "You really never know what a person is capable of."

He was right.

You can know someone for years and never truly know them at all.

But the very next day, fate shoved something infinitely more cruel in my face.