My boyfriend had this childhood friend, the kind so possessive she practically wanted to move in and take over. She even secretly used his phone to post stuff on his feed just to mess with me. So, I went straight to his place, ready for a confrontation, and happened to see them walking into a hotel room together. "Yeah, hi, 911? I need to report prostitution going down." 1. Ethan is ten years older than me. We’d been dating for a year, and this was my first time at his place. The second I walked in, I saw a familiar face: Ethan’s childhood best friend, Olivia. Olivia sat there like she owned the place, more like the lady of the house than I was. She knew everything – which room Ethan slept in, where the tea was kept, where the fruit knife was… I tried hard to ignore these details, reminding myself Olivia was just doing this deliberately to make me uncomfortable. But I couldn’t ignore the figure standing next to her. They were standing side-by-side in the kitchen, one chopping, the other arranging food on a plate. Olivia casually held out a hand, and Ethan naturally passed her a paper towel. When Olivia got up to go to the bathroom, he, without even looking, kicked the trash can out of her path. These ingrained habits, the kind etched into your bones – they don’t get that deep unless there was real history, real feeling there. As that thought hit me, I placed my hand, palm up, on his knee. He turned his head, "What's wrong?" The real kicker? As he asked me what was wrong, he handed the orange he’d just finished peeling to Olivia. The clock on the wall chimed on the hour, a sudden sharp sound, like it was reminding me: showing up out of the blue is no match for a lifetime of history. "Ew, so sour," Olivia complained, tossing the half-eaten orange back to Ethan. He caught it and casually popped a segment into his own mouth. In that moment, I felt like nothing more than a guest in this house. Watching the hosts flirt, so awkward I wanted to disappear on the spot. And I actually did just that. I stood up and walked out. Ethan chased after me, asking, "What's wrong?" There it was again! What's wrong? "Why don't you ever ask Olivia what's wrong?" "Because we're so close, I don't need to ask to know what's up with her," he answered instinctively. "Yeah, you two are so close. We're not. So you have to ask me to find out." I pulled my arm away and turned to stop him from following. "Since we're not close, why are you even following me?" I couldn't even count how many times we'd fought like this. And the reason was always Olivia. 2 Truth is, I was the one who shamelessly chased after Ethan. What did I see in him? He was rich, handsome, well-mannered… He was my boss. On my first day, we shared an elevator. It was love at first sight; he stunned me, and my heart was set. I had just graduated, full of youthful confidence. If you like someone, go for it. If you love someone, say it loud. He sat in his private office. I gathered all my courage and knocked on the door that stood between me and my pursuit of love. "Ethan?" He was looking down at some documents, didn't even look up. "What is it?" "If it's convenient, I'd like to ask you out to dinner tonight. If it's really convenient, maybe we could grab a drink afterward. And if things are still convenient after that, my bed's pretty big." By the time I finished that sentence, Ethan's face was beet red. After that day, I felt like I'd discovered an incredible secret: Ethan seemed surprisingly innocent, almost pure. Work the most serious job during the day, chat the most inappropriate things with the boss at night. One day, we both worked late, leaving the office together. "Let me buy you a coffee," I offered. On the way, we ran into a drunk creep harassing a girl walking alone. I walked right up behind him, kicked him hard in the lower back, sending him sprawling. Before he could react, I drove my elbow into his back, then grabbed his hair and slammed his head onto the pavement. After the whole damsel-in-distress rescue played out, Ethan looked at me with a hint of awe. On the empty street, I handed him one of the coffees. "You were… pretty intense back there," Ethan said, half-joking. I took a sip of my coffee, raised an eyebrow at him, and stepped closer, and closer. "I can be even more intense. Want to come back to my place and find out?" Direct, simple, blunt. Even that didn't break through Ethan's reserve. "It's, uh, too late. Maybe… maybe next time," he stammered. "No time like the present. Let's go now." 3 I grabbed his tie and pulled him towards my car. He started, "My car—" "Oh, right. Driver, turn around!" When he drove me to my apartment building, I stood in front of his car, arms crossed, waiting for him to get out. "Get out. Come up for a cup of tea before you go," I insisted. "It really is too late. We both have work tomorrow," he refused. "Fine." I stepped away from the front of the car, moved to the side, and gestured for him to leave. My sudden change of heart clearly made him uneasy. He didn't know whether to go or stay. "Chloe, what exactly are you trying to do? Can you just be clear?" Wasn't I already being clear? "Forget it. You should just go." Playing hard to get wasn't my style, but knowing when to back off was key to making things last. I headed upstairs before he drove away, leaving him with a view of my retreating back, unclear and ambiguous. I'd just finished using the bathroom and washing my hands when the doorbell rang. "What, changed your mind?" I leaned against the doorframe, looking at Ethan, who had indeed come back. "Chloe, you have to admit, you started this," Ethan said, looking at me with a touch of proud defiance. I nodded. I admitted it. In an instant, Ethan transformed, pouncing like a hungry wolf. From the doorway to the couch, then to the bedroom. The curtains fluttered in the breeze, a chill slipping into the blankets. I instinctively snuggled closer into his arms. "Boss, requesting a day off today." Dating the boss definitely had its perks. He got up, got dressed, washed up, then kissed my forehead before reluctantly heading out the door. I thought after last night, Ethan would turn into a clingy, devoted boyfriend. But looking at my phone, utterly devoid of messages from yesterday morning until this morning, left me feeling a little lost. "Did I actually win him over, or not?" I was bummed… 4 It wasn't until I got to the office that I found out Ethan had left on an unexpected business trip yesterday. "A business trip doesn't mean you don't even have time to send one text, right?" I stared blankly at my phone. Just then, Ethan's Instagram feed updated with a new post: So glad I have you with me. The picture: A woman's hand holding a wine glass, pointed towards Ethan, whose back was to the camera. "Hey boss," I said to my direct supervisor, "I need to take some personal time. My man ran off with someone else. I gotta go deal with the other woman." Amidst the sympathetic gazes of my colleagues, I marched off, full of righteous fury, heading to the battlefield. After landing, I went straight to the hotel. The front desk wouldn't give me his room number, so I had no choice but to wait in the lobby, hoping to catch them. "Olivia, over here." Ethan's voice came from behind me. I turned around, thrilled, but then snapped my mouth shut as I processed what he’d said. The woman's name was Olivia. And that Instagram post… unless he willingly let her post it, how else would it be there? All signs pointed to the distinct possibility that I was just a stand-in. A substitute lover? The rebound girl while he pines for his true love? Surely, I couldn't be that pathetic? The woman named Olivia hurried towards him from another direction, beaming as she linked her arm through his. They walked off, laughing and talking, back to their room. "Yeah, hi, 911? Grand Hotel, room 702. There's prostitution going on." As the wail of police sirens grew closer, I stood outside the hotel entrance and watched them being escorted away by the cops. While they were being questioned inside, I sat waiting on a bench at the police station. When Ethan came out, I stood up to meet him. His eyes were red as he asked me, "Did you do this? Why would you do this?" I told him calmly, "If I had been the one knocking on that door, I can't guarantee I wouldn't have killed someone. With the police, at least you both get to live." "Nothing happened between Olivia and me!" he explained frantically. "That intimate post on your phone, holding hands going back to the same room, a man and woman alone together late at night with no intention of leaving." "Ethan, are you trying to tell me this is some kind of innocent, pure love story?"
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