Chapter 4
Ethan sounded a little irritated. "Sharon, you should really pick up some social skills and fashion sense from Jessie. Tomorrow, you need to win over our client."
He glanced over my hoodie and sweatpants, his face full of disapproval.
Jessica let out a soft laugh, looking even more dazzling in her high heels and cute dress. She stood next to Ethan, and the two of them looked like they belonged together.
I just kept quiet, not bothering to argue.
I watched Jessica and Ethan with a surprisingly calm heart—no headache, no tightness in my chest. All those uncomfortable feelings just faded away.
Strangely enough, ever since I quit my meds, it felt like the dark cloud of depression was finally starting to lift.
Just then, two staff members hauled over a nearly life-sized display. It was the photo of Ethan and me that was meant to be set up at the entrance.
But there was a noticeable gash splitting open right across my face in the photo.
Jessica's face fell, with shock in her voice. "Oh, no! How did this happen?"
"No way we can get a replacement in time, but luckily, I made a spare just in case," she quickly added.
The new display featured a woman in a wedding dress, showing only her back and a sliver of her profile, nestled intimately in Ethan's embrace.
I racked my brain, but I had absolutely no memory of ever taking a photo like that. And to be honest, the woman's figure didn't match mine at all.
If anything, it looked exactly like Jessica's.
Seeing me just staring at the photo with no expression, Jessica asked quietly, "Sharon, you don't like it, do you? You barely go out, so maybe you haven't seen this style. It's all the rage overseas."
I just smiled faintly. I honestly stopped caring who was in that photo a long time ago.
Out of nowhere, Jessica started crying.
"You must be upset, Sharon. I should have picked something you liked." She sniffled.
Before I could say anything, she dashed out.
Ethan's face darkened.
"Sharon, Jessie went out of her way for you, and this is how you act? How can you be so unappreciative?" he snapped.
I just said flatly, "Oh."
Let him say whatever he wanted. I was leaving tomorrow, anyway.
Ethan ran after Jessica and never came back.
I headed to the study, planning to take all my design drafts from the past few years with me.
Ethan's laptop was still on.
By accident, I ended up clicking open a folder. It was filled with countless photos of Jessica, taken from practically every possible angle.
There was everything from fuzzy, low-quality pictures of her as a kid to crisp, recent shots.
Most of those childhood photos were snapped in my family's backyard.
So he was already into Jessica even way back then.
I realized every single photo from the last seven years was all taken in September.
They'd been everywhere together—catching sunrises on the Vaalyn, making out in front of Crispedge Falls.
Guess that was why Ethan would vanish for a whole month every September.
His email inbox was still open. Besides work-related stuff, everything else was Ethan obsessively longing for Jessica.
He said the only reason he stuck around me and helped me when we were kids was that he was afraid my mental illness might flare up and I'd end up hurting Jessica.
He knew I hated Jessica, and he knew she absolutely despised me too.
Jessica hated my mother for risking everything, including her life, to stop her own mom from marrying my father.
Because of that, she and her mother were looked down on and laughed at by everyone.
So Ethan started dating me just to make Jessica jealous since she'd always refused to accept him.
Before he even proposed to me, he sent Jessica an ultimatum.
He said if she didn't show up to stop him, he'd put the ring on my finger.
This was all a game between the two of them.
But I was the one who paid the price with my dignity.
Just the sight of Jessica's silhouette was enough to shatter Ethan's resolve.
For seven years, I was just Jessica's shadow to him—someone to ease his loneliness, a tool to test her feelings.
The truth hit me like a slap—bloody, ruthless, impossible to ignore.
Seven years by his side, and I'd never been more than a pawn in their twisted game.
A mere replacement. Nothing more.
"Sharon, nobody loves you. You really are pitiful," I told myself.
My mind became a chaotic mess again, the familiar headache crashing right back in.
Without thinking, I snatched up Ethan's laptop and hurled it at the wall with all my strength.
Staring at the shattered pieces, I took deep, shaky breaths, trying to steady myself.
Suddenly, my mind went quiet. Just like that.
Guess my therapist was right. Finding a way to let it out really did work better than any pill.
My phone lit up with a message from the makeup artist Ethan booked: [Hey, don't stay up too late. You need to look perfect for tomorrow's proposal.]
I let out a dry chuckle. The proposal I'd been dreaming about for seven years just made me feel disgusted now.
Midnight rolled around, rain pounding against the windows.
My phone lit up. William was calling.
"Sharon, seven days are up. Come downstairs," he said, his voice steady and calm.
Step by step, I left the apartment that once was my home, my footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.
I climbed into William's car and drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When I woke up the next day, it was already noon.
My phone had been blowing up with messages and missed calls from Ethan.
His texts shifted from furious to unusually calm.
By the last few messages, I could almost sense the panic creeping in.
He wrote: [Sharon, where did you go? I've been looking everywhere for you.]