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144116 waste any more une praying us via story.
But as we left the hospital room, Ethan followed us into the hallway, his face twisted with anger. “Annie! Everything I’ve done, it’s all been for you!”
I turned to him, my voice cold. “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t want it.”
The thought of Ethan and I being childless after four years of marriage, while Summer managed to get pregnant after just a few months, left me feeling sick.
J
He’d never truly loved me–not in a way that mattered. Now he was parading around with his newfound “devotion” expecting me to forgive and forget?
“Is this about Summer’s baby?” Ethan demanded, his eyes bloodshot. “I didn’t even touch her!”
I stared at him, confused. “What?”
“I said I didn’t touch her!” he repeated, clearly flustered. His hand instinctively moved to shield his lower half, as if that proved anything.
Next to me, Simon raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Wait… are you saying you and Summer never…?”
I smirked, crossing my arms. “Maybe he was saving himself for her. How romantic.”
Simon didn’t respond, but the look on his face said it all. The word idiot might as well have been flashing in neon lights above his head.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Ethan,” I said with a sigh, “whatever you’ve done–or haven’t done–it doesn’t matter. It’s not my problem anymore.”
“But Annie,” he insisted, his voice growing desperate, “I love you, I’ve realized how stupid I was to let you go. Please, just come back to me.”
His voice cracked, his gaze turning pleading. “Summer was never truly mine. She had plenty of backups, but you… you made me feel like I was your whole world. I want to be that for you again, Annie. Let me make it up to you. Please.”
I stared at him, speechless.
This wasn’t the Ethan I remembered–the man who used to look at me with nothing but impatience and disdain. Now he was practically groveling.
“Annie?” Simon’s voice broke through my thoughts, soft and hesitant.
I turned to him, catching the uncertainty in his usually steady gaze.
“Maybe I should go,” he murmured, trying to smile but failing miserably.
The sight of him–this strong, confident man suddenly unsure of himself–made my heart ache.
I let out a small sigh and reached for his hand, giving him a bright smile. “Simon, let’s go home. I feel like having one of your home–cooked meals tonight.”
Simon froze, stunned, before his face lit up like a kid who’d just been handed his favorite candy.
“Okay,” he said quickly, nodding. “Anything you want.”
As I walked away hand–in–hand with Simon, Ethan’s voice rang out behind me, loud and anguished. “Annie! I’ve changed! Why won’t you come back to me?”
Without looking back, I called over my shoulder, “Because, Ethan, late apologies are worth less than dirt.”
I didn’t need to turn around to know what would’ve happened if Summer had loved him the way he wanted. If her baby had been his, he wouldn’t have been standing there, begging me to return.
I wasn’t an idiot. No one willingly signs up for a life of heartbreak twice.
1:01 PM
<
The next time I saw Ethan and Summer, it was years later.
Simon and I were attending an old friends‘ reunion.
As we walked toward the restaurant, Simon supported me carefully, his hand steady on my arm as I moved slowly, one hand resting on my lower back. A few of our friends teased him, calling him “whipped.”
But Simon didn’t mind. He just smiled, crouching slightly as if ready to scoop me into his arms at any moment. “My wife’s leg isn’t fully healed, and she’s carrying our baby. Of course, I’m going to be extra cautious.”
The laughter stopped abruptly.
I glanced up and saw why.
Ethan and Summer were walking out of the hotel.
Summer still looked radiant, her face as flawless and sweet as always. Ethan, on the other hand, looked like a shadow of his former self. His eyes, once so sharp and confident, were clouded and empty, like a sky perpetually overcast.
“Annie, it’s been a while.”
I had no intention of acknowledging them, but Summer spoke first, her voice laced with something between a sneer and a smile.
Her gaze flickered toward my swollen belly, lingering there with a mix of bitterness and jealousy. “If I hadn’t lost my baby, they’d be calling me ‘Mom‘ by now. Annie, you’re nothing but a murderer.”
I raised an eyebrow, meeting her glare head–on. “Summer, don’t you know better than anyone else who’s responsible for your miscarriage?”
I smirked, my tone cutting. “And even if the baby had been born, would you have known for sure who the father was?”
The color drained from her face as my words landed.
Our friends exchanged awkward glances. You could practically feel the tension in the air.
Ethan’s face darkened, his expression unreadable, but his eyes–those same eyes that once made me fall for him in an instant–were filled with sorrow. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out.
“Why are you still looking at her?” Summer snapped, her composure slipping. Even a woman as delicate and sweet as her could turn into a shrieking banshee when pushed too far.
She pointed at me, her voice dripping with venom. “Ethan, open your eyes! She’s carrying another man’s child. No matter how much you pine for her, she’ll never come back to you!”
Then, with surprising strength, she grabbed Ethan’s arm and yanked him along, dragging him away from me.
“Let’s go!” she barked, pulling him so forcefully he stumbled after her.
As they passed me, I heard it–a soft, broken whisper from Ethan: “Annie…”
I didn’t react. My expression remained calm, indifferent, as if I hadn’t heard a thing.
“Let’s head inside,” one of my friends said, breaking the tension. Their cheerful tone helped lighten the mood, and I smiled, nodding in
agreement.
Simon bent down and scooped me into his arms, carrying me up the steps without hesitation.
But as we moved toward the entrance, I glanced back, catching sight of Ethan being dragged away by Summer.
He stumbled as he walked, but his eyes stayed fixed on me, filled with pain and regret.
The same eyes that once held me captive now felt like nothing more than a distant memory.
I smiled faintly at him, mouthing the words silently: “Goodbye, Ethan.”
I didn’t react. My expression remained calm, indifferent, as if I hadn’t heard a thing.
“Let’s head inside,” one of my friends said, breaking the tension. Their cheerful tone helped lighten the mood, and I smiled, nodding in agreement.
Simon bent down and scooped me into his arms, carrying me up the steps without hesitation.
But as we moved toward the entrance, I glanced back, catching sight of Ethan being dragged away by Summer.
He stumbled as he walked, but his eyes stayed fixed on me, filled with pain and regret.
The same eyes that once held me captive now felt like nothing more than a distant memory.
I smiled faintly at him, mouthing the words silently: “Goodbye, Ethan.””
I heard later that Ethan tried to find me many times after that day.
He never managed to get past Simon.
Simon, in his quiet, unshakable way, intercepted every attempt. Whether it was a message, a call, or even Ethan showing up uninvited, Simon handled it all without a fuss.
I knew about the apology letters Ethan sent–I never opened them.
I saw him once, kneeling in the rain outside my apartment, drenched and miserable. But I didn’t go down.
What difference would it have made?
I was never anyone’s second choice.
And Simon–Simon, who always knew what he wanted, who always chose with clarity and conviction–was my first and only choice.
As for the people we leave behind, the ones who realize too late what they’ve lost?
Well, some doors, once closed, are better left that way.
Forever.
