Chapter 4

Samantha's face grew even paler. She managed a brittle smile and sank back onto her seat.

The surrounding classmates just stared at each other, utterly lost.

David, ever the host, jumped in to save the moment.

"Alright. What's everyone standing around for? Sing! Drink! We're not going home sober tonight! A toast to our amazing Samantha. Welcome back!"

The music kicked back on, but the energy was gone.

Everyone was now sneakily watching our corner out of the corner of their eyes.

I leaned back leisurely, picked a grape, and began to eat it slowly.

Ethan sat beside me, silent. He picked up an empty glass, filled it with warm water from a thermos, and handed it to me.

"Don't eat too many cold things," he murmured.

I took the glass, winked at him, and mouthed, "Nice one."

A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips before his cool mask was back in place.

The show, I knew, was just getting started.

The atmosphere in the room had soured, all thanks to our arrival.

People were still singing and drinking, but their hearts weren't in it.

You could practically hear the gossip-radars whirring over everyone's heads.

The old "Ethan-and-Samantha" shippers, in particular, looked like they were sitting on hot coals.

Chloe, drink in hand, had cozied up to Samantha. They were whispering furiously, occasionally shooting complex looks in our direction. I didn't need to hear them to know they were strategizing.

"Hey, Ethan." David plopped down on the seat opposite us, holding two glasses of whiskey. "Been too long, man. Drink with me?"

Ethan glanced at the glass and said flatly, "I'm driving."

"Ah, come on, you can get a designated driver!" David insisted, pushing a glass towards him.

"It's a celebration! Samantha's back! You have to have one drink."

He brought up Samantha again.

I couldn't help but snicker to myself. It seemed our top matchmaker was making his move.

Ethan ignored him, simply picking up the glass of water he had poured for me and taking a sip.

His rejection was silent but clear.

David looked awkward, but he wasn't giving up.

"Ethan, man, that's cold," he said, switching to emotional blackmail.

"We've been friends for years. And you and Samantha... We all watched you two.

"She's finally back, and you're just gonna give her the cold shoulder?"

I paused, a half-peeled grape in my fingers.

Here came the guilt trip.

Ethan set down his water glass and slowly raised his eyes to meet David's.

The look was emotionless, but it was enough to make David's voice trail off.

"We broke up a long time ago," Ethan stated calmly, as if discussing a historical fact.

"So? You can still be friends!" David pressed. "Look at Samantha, she still feels..."

He was cut off by Samantha herself, who had just stood up.

Holding a glass of red wine, she wore a perfectly practiced smile as she glided towards us.

The entire room went silent again, all attention zeroing in on her.

Everyone held their breath, ready for the main act.

Samantha stopped in front of our table.

She gave me a polite nod and turned her full attention to Ethan. Her eyes were shimmering, full of a heartbreaking vulnerability.

"Ethan," she began, her voice quiet but carrying clearly in the silent room.

"What happened in the past was my fault. I was too young, too selfish. All I could think about was going abroad, and I never considered your feelings."

She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself.

"All these years, I've kept thinking if I hadn't left, what would we be now?"

Her eyes welled up.

"I owe you an apology. I am so, so sorry."

With that, she downed the entire glass of red wine in one go, holding up the empty glass as proof of her sincerity. It was a gesture of complete surrender.

Damn.

I wanted to clap for her performance.

The move was a masterclass in manipulation.

She managed to paint herself as a tragic victim of youthful ambition while simultaneously hinting at her lingering feelings for him.

By taking all the blame, she appeared gracious and deeply in love.

She had just hoisted Ethan onto a bonfire.

If he accepted her apology, he was implicitly forgiving her. If he forgave her, then maybe they could start again.

If he didn't accept, he would look like a petty, heartless jerk, a man still so hung up on his ex that he had to hide behind a mask of cold indifference.