hair. He wasn’t using hair gel anymore, and it
was soft. I leaned in, close to his ear. “How
about I call you Ethan? Or… maybe… babe?”
He shoved me away.
He was suddenly furious. I had no idea why,
just like I had no idea why he’d wanted to
<
marry me in the first place. He sat behind his
desk, his back to me. “Leave.” “But I wanted
to have lunch with you.” “No.” He refused
flatly. “I have a meeting.” What was his deal?
I studied him. “Fine. Just don’t skip lunch.” I
waited outside. The assistant looked nervous.
Then I heard crashing sounds, and Ethan’s
anguished roar. I’d left the door slightly ajar.
His cries, mixed with the shattering of glass,
echoed out. I tapped the assistant’s desk.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or
not?” He hesitated, but I pushed past him,
back into Ethan’s office.
Ethan was a mess. Huddled in a corner,
amidst shards of glass. His hands were
bleeding. I stepped over the glass. My heels
clicked on the sharp fragments. Ethan
flinched, keeping his head down. I touched his
shoulder. “What happened?” He was too big
く
for me to pull up. I knelt beside him, carefully
removing glass slivers from his palms with
tweezers. He looked up at me, his voice
hoarse. “Ugly, right?” “What? Your hands?” I stared at his long, elegant fingers. “They’re beautiful.” I kissed his fingertips. “Truly
beautiful.” He still didn’t look happy. “Did
you… tell your other girlfriends that too?”
“What?” “All this… being nice to me, calling
me… babe. Did they all get the same
treatment?” I went silent. So that’s what this
was about. I’d thought maybe he had a sister
or something, a trigger from his past. But no,
it was pure, unadulterated insecurity. This
powerful man, reduced to this. I touched his
hair, sighing. “Silly.”
I’d dated. A lot. I was pretty, from a good
family. There had been a few serious
relationships. “In our world, dating and
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marriage are different. My dad always said I
could date whoever I wanted, but when it was
time, I had to come home and make a
suitable match.” I helped him up and sat him
on the sofa, calling for someone to clean up
the mess. I poured him a glass of water. He
stopped me. “You don’t need to do that.”
“It’s fine.” I sat down, thinking. He’d probably
investigated every ex I’d ever had. I hadn’t
always been sensible. I’d made mistakes. If he
minded, there wasn’t much I could do…
“Don’t contact them again.” Ethan blurted
out. I looked at him, his face serious. I
touched his wrist. “Are you ordering me?” He
tensed, his breathing shallow, then he looked
away. “Just… tell me beforehand, if you have
- to. Otherwise…” “I understand.” I cut him off.
“I won’t contact them again.” I paused. “Is
that why you were so upset? Because of my
exes?” He didn’t answer. I sighed again.
く
“Please talk to me, Ethan. This is exhausting.
You get angry, you break things, and I don’t
even know why… how am I supposed to…
help?” “So they were all better than me? At…..
this?” He interrupted, his eyes bloodshot, his
voice like a child’s. How had we gotten here?
I stood up. “If that’s what you think, then
there’s nothing I can do. I don’t think it’s a
crime to have dated. The past is the past.
Why dwell on it? Ethan, does knowing these
details actually make you happy? Fine, I’ll tell
you. I dated. I loved them, at the time. Does
that thrill you?” Tears welled up in his eyes.
He reached for my sleeve as I stood, but I
pulled away. “I thought… I thought if I just
went along with this, we could make it work.”
My voice softened as I saw his tears. “But…
you don’t seem happy either. You’re hurting
yourself… Ethan, maybe we should call this
off.”
<
“No.” Ethan looked at me, his red–rimmed
eyes pleading. He grabbed my arm. “No.
