Chapter 4

My head felt foggy.

"…The couch is fine too. Whatever you want."

I didn't look at him again. I turned off the light and pulled the blanket over my head.

The room stayed silent for a long time before I finally heard the door open and close.

The next morning, when I got up, the two of them were already eating breakfast.

Ethan slid a bowl toward me.

"Eat. Your favorite—maple oatmeal."

I sat down.

"Thanks."

He frowned, almost imperceptibly.

Chloe chewed on her bagel, casting cautious glances at me before tentatively speaking.

"Claire, you don't have work today? That's rare."

"Mm."

Ethan spoke abruptly.

"Claire, quit your job. Move to New York. We'll get married—I'll take care of you."

Chloe nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes! Then we can all hang out together!"

"And Claire can help me pick out stuff for the new place!"

I set my spoon down and frowned at the two of them.

"New place?"

Chloe's eyes went wide. She clapped a hand over her mouth, too late.

As I continued to stare at her, she retreated behind Ethan and reluctantly mumbled an explanation.

"…Ethan bought me an apartment for my birthday."

"I didn't mean to keep it from you. But you're so uptight about stuff like this—I knew you'd give me a hard time…"

Ethan gave her hand a deliberate pat, cutting her off.

"That's enough. Your sister isn't like that."

Then he looked at me.

"It wasn't that much—just over four hundred thousand. Chloe's young. Think of it as security for her, from both of us."

My hands clenched, and my voice shook.

"You used the money from our joint account?"

Ethan blinked, as though the answer were obvious.

"Yeah. Why?"

We'd opened that joint savings account during our first year of dating long-distance. Every month, we each put in whatever we could spare from our paychecks. The plan was simple: once we'd saved enough, we'd buy a place and get married.

Back then, I'd picked up extra night shifts at the hospital—three hundred dollars a pop. I'd worked through fevers rather than give up the overtime, all to save a little more.

Ethan had stayed in budget motels on business trips. He could have expensed nicer places, but he'd always chosen the cheapest single room.

Two full years, and we'd saved fifty-four thousand dollars.

We'd earned every single cent under the fluorescent lights of the ER before dawn and at client dinners where he drank until he threw up.

Security.

Security.

Now that life was better, he could toss money at Chloe and call it "security."

Then what about my youth? My health? All those years I spent enduring the agony of being apart—who was going to make me feel secure?

I blinked back tears and stood, my voice cold.

"Give me back my half. I never agreed to buy her an apartment."

Ethan stared at me in disbelief.

"Over that little bit of money? Have you lost your mind?"

"Lost my mind?"

I forced something that resembled a smile.

"Then why don't you ask her to work my hospital shifts for a few years and earn 'that little bit of money' to pay me back?"