- 4.
I remember freshman year. Ethan stood out in the crowd of new students, his faded clothes a stark contrast to everyone else. He was
undeniably poor. And undeniably handsome. I loved the cool, quiet tone of his voice. The way his eyelids lowered when he looked at me. Ethan desperately needed money. Some
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connected kid had snagged the scholarship he
deserved. So, one evening after class, I boldly
grabbed his hand. “Ethan, I like you. Go out with
- me. I’m pretty loaded, we can share my
allowance. Or, if that’s not enough, I’ll pay you for a kiss.” He refused, of course. But back then, my life was a breeze. I didn’t understand the meaning of rejection. The more he pushed me away, the harder I pursued him. Until his grandfather, the man who raised him, fell critically ill. Without hesitation, I covered the medical bills. Ethan finally gave in. I foolishly thought I’d done him a huge favor. Much later, I realized I’d gotten what I wanted, but at a terrible cost to him. Even after we started dating, Ethan still worked every day. He barely touched my money, but things only got worse. Rumors spread around campus. They said he was selling himself for money. People looked at him differently, whispering cruel nicknames. Oblivious, I’d hold his hand and say, “Don’t mind them, they’re just jealous.” I lived in my
ivory tower, completely unaware that Ethan was
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fighting a battle all alone. Senior year, my family
went bankrupt. I didn’t tell Ethan. I simply called
him and said, “Let’s break up.” “Why?” he
asked. “I’m bored.” “Okay.” And that was it. I
imagined he was relieved, finally free. That
same day, I tossed my SIM card, deleted my
social media, and boarded a train to another
city, ready to work off my family’s debt. I didn’t
return until three months ago. Ethan seemed to
be thriving. He was always brilliant, the kind of
genius who made everyone else in our
department look average. Just four years after
graduation, he was a tech entrepreneur
featured in business magazines. Ashley, our
class homecoming queen, had started her
acting career in junior year. I never imagined
they’d end up together. Good for them, I
thought, pressing a hand to my chest to quell
the sudden ache. 4 AM. My shift ended. I was
the last to leave. My coworkers, assuming
everyone was gone, had turned off the lights
and shut down the elevators. I jabbed at the
elevator button, hoping to bring it back to life.
<
“Call someone,” Ethan’s voice startled me.
