tment was deafening. Ethan' s guitar was still pr

. I saw Molly' s name on the screen. I ignored it. It rang again. And again.

, her sickly sweet v

han. I'm so, so sorry about last night.

apology. It wa

an?" I asked,

ast," she chirped. "He's such a sw

d then Ethan' s voice,

ou want, G

h. "I want to know why you humiliated me in front of all our friends and an

ck. She thought she was dying. The sonogram wasn't even hers, it was

so practiced. He didn't eve

rsary, Ethan. The night you

ping with disdain. "You're creating all thi

ytime I had a need, an opinion, a feeling th

d, the words tasting lik

threaten to leave just to get attention. Fine. Have your little tantrum. I'll ta

ked for a decade. He'd make me feel crazy, unreasonable, l

ime, it wa

oice as cold as steel. "Y

followed was a relief. The weight of his voice, his

built for him. The lie I had been living. For ten yea

on a weekend trip from Dallas. He was Ethan Scott, a talented indie musician with holes in

I was just a girl in the

in New York. I left my father's mansion and moved into this rundown apartment. I secretly used my trust fund allowance to pay our rent,

le help from my family." He had no concept of th

t noble at first.

felt like a b