I didn’t answer. Neither did he. Then he
exploded. “Say something! Why aren’t you
saying anything?!”
His question brought back a memory. Olivia had a new admirer, so Ethan had posted a picture of my back on his social media, me wearing the latest designer dress that Olivia had wanted. It was the only time I’d worn something he’d
given me. I usually left the tags on, storing them
away in my closet. But that day, he’d insisted I
wear it, taking pictures of me. It was the first
time he’d posted me online. People liked it,
<
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commented, asking who I was. Ethan had
shown me, his arm around me, calling me
“babe.” He called me “babe” when he was in a
good mood. He twirled my hair around his
finger. “All my buddies are jealous that you’re
my babe.”
I’d smiled, but my eyes caught a new comment
from Olivia: Want to go to the music festival?
My treat.
Ethan glanced at his phone, his hand stilling. He
flipped it over, pulling out his credit card as if
nothing had happened. “Go buy yourself some
bags.” He stood up, grabbing his jacket.
I watched him head for the door, and without
thinking, I said, “Ethan, please don’t go.”
He paused at the door, then turned back with a
smile. “Feeling lonely? Take your time, buy some more clothes, some jewelry.” He turned
to leave, adding as the door closed, “I’ll be
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back soon, babe.”
564
I watched the door close, my heart heavy. We
were no longer in college. He’d gone from calling me “baby” to “babe.” It had meant something to me. I stared at the credit card on
the coffee table, then put it in a drawer,
untouched, along with my feelings.
A few days later, Ethan returned. The social media post was gone. When a friend asked why
he’d deleted the picture of his girlfriend, he’d
shrugged it off. “Oh, just some girl I saw on the
street. Thought she looked nice, took, a picture.
Deleted it so you guys wouldn’t get the wrong
idea.”
I was in his arms at the time, quiet and
compliant. He ended the call, kissing my ear.
“Such a good girl.” He thought for a moment,
then reposted the picture, but only visible to
him. He stroked my hair. “You’re too beautiful
to share.” I looked at his face, smiling silently,
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2012
eeling nothing. Just like the credit card tucked
way in the drawer. I hadn’t complained, hadn’t rotested. I just knew.
Now, Ethan’s voice was full of disbelief and
urt. “Avery, tell me. Was I just a replacement?”
sighed, deciding to finally say what needed to be said. “What about me, Ethan? What were those six years to you?”
He was silent. I went on. “Six years, Ethan, I never once complained. And you can’t even handle a few days?”
His breathing was ragged. I sighed again, hanging up and blocking him on everything.
Goodbye to those six years.
Daniel and I got married without a hitch. I planned everything meticulously, choosing the perfect dress, giving myself the wedding of my
dreams. I wasn’t alone anymore. I had a home,
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