The Boy I Watched From Afar

The Boy I Watched From Afar cover

The Boy I Watched From Afar

I’ve liked Ethan Cole for years, and I’ve always been stuck in the friend zone.

I never even had a chance to confess.

The year his parents died in that car crash, I skipped class and took the overnight train home to be with him and help with the funeral.

He held me, burying his face in the hollow of my shoulder, his voice rough when he said, "I only have you now."

I’m not good with words. I couldn’t comfort him, so I made a clumsy, blunt promise: I’d stay by his side forever.

After everything was settled, I wanted to tell him the secret I’d hidden through my whole youth, but he had red-rimmed eyes and begged me not to say it.

At the time I didn’t understand why, and I didn’t dare ask.

Later, at a gathering when friends teased us, he suddenly got really angry. That’s when I realized—my decades-long crush had long ago become a burden to him.

He didn’t want anyone to poke at it, not even me. He wanted to keep living peacefully with me, side by side.

To be, in his words, a good friend.

That night I denied it with a laugh. I said I’d never liked Ethan Cole—Ethan was too flighty to be a boyfriend.

After I said it I watched him breathe a visible sigh of relief.

Calling him “flighty” was half-truth, half-lie.

He’d dated a lot of people, but I knew he’d never truly loved anyone—he was just too lazy to say no.

His newest girlfriend seemed different, though.

He even formally told me, “Come meet my girlfriend. She’s curious about you.”

Which woman who liked him wouldn’t be curious about me? After all, I’d been his best female friend. But he’d never arranged a meeting before.

He always said those people were just passersby—no need to bring them into his circle or introduce them to his friends.

So why was this one different?

At the agreed spot I took three deep breaths before pushing open the private room door.

Inside were three people: two guys and a girl.

Ethan tilted his chin at me, a small greeting.

Sitting next to him was a girl in a white dress, curls falling down her back. She jumped up quickly, all sweetness as she waved, “Anna, I’m Lily Monroe.”

I barely furrowed my brow and smiled coolly, “Nice to meet you.”

Lily pointed to the other boy. “This is Noah Carter, my best friend.”

Hearing his identity sparked my interest. I looked at him closely. He was delicate-featured, different from Ethan—sunny, with an earnest, shy lift to his mouth.

After polite greetings I sat in the empty seat beside him.

Ethan finally spoke, elbow on the table, leaning toward me. “Anna, you’ve never been in a relationship, right?”

Not a question—stated like a fact.

A sour, suffocating ache filled my chest. I nodded with effort.

He talked about it in front of his girlfriend like it was casual, which made me awkward. He knew—these years I’d liked him so much I refused to settle with anyone.

“Really? Anna, Noah’s been single too.”

Lily mimicked Ethan, elbows on the table, her almond eyes sparkling, clear and bright and carrying a mix of hope, nervousness, and guard… I understood her feelings. Who wants their boyfriend to have a female confidante?

I held my cup and pretended to sip lemon water calmly. I smiled and looked at the boy beside me. “Oh? What a coincidence.”

He glanced instinctively toward Lily. When he realized, a quick bitterness flashed in his eyes.

I knew that look too well—from when Ethan introduced me as his good friend. A shared, bittersweet sympathy rose up. I asked softly, “You and Lily have known each other a long time, right?”

He didn’t answer with words, only curved his eyes into crescents and nodded.

If Lily would mind Ethan having a female friend like me, then did Ethan mind that Lily had a male friend like Noah?

Something clicked. I looked back at Ethan. He was really handsome—milky skin, single eyelids a little puffy with a touch of faded gloom, a high bridge nose, clear lip line with a slightly matte, subdued color.

My nose went tender. I pretended nothing was wrong, lifted my cup, swallowed, and forced a smile. “Ethan, Lily, do you believe in love at first sight?”

Both Ethan and Lily’s gazes turned in the same instant toward Noah.

I tilted my head a little and looked at him. “I like you. Can I pursue you?”

Noah’s smile stiffened. His long, pale fingers curled tight on his knee—he looked conflicted.

A light, cheerful ringtone suddenly rang, breaking the quiet.

It was Lily’s phone. She answered softly, then apologized. “Sorry, Anna, I have to run home for a bit. Noah, will you stay with Anna?”

Ethan walked her out, leaving only Noah and me.

He relaxed, drained his glass, and as if making up his mind, said, “I’m sorry. I already like someone.”

“You like Lily, I like Ethan—that’s fate, right? Two couples is better than a couple plus two awkward extras. Also,”

I picked up the menu and studied the dishes, though my eyes were already dimming with tears and I could hardly see.

“I think Lily wants you to let her go. Why do you think we’re meeting today?”

Ethan wanted me to let him go too.

I didn’t say this out loud because I couldn’t bear to face it.

He finally no longer needed my love. Or he’d had enough of dealing with it.

I couldn’t tell whether his actions were out of spite, to give everyone what they wanted, or hoping someone would drag me out of my hopeless limbo.

I desperately wanted Noah to say yes.

Maybe he hadn’t expected my bluntness; the tip of his ear to his neck flushed pink. Complex emotions pooled in his eyes.

After a long silence he nodded. “Okay.”

Just then the private room door opened. Ethan stood there with a momentary look of surprise.

He sat opposite me and tilted the corner of his mouth into a small smile. “Long time no see. You look like you’ve gained weight.”

The summer after the college entrance exam, Ethan got drunk one night and called me to pick him up.

When I arrived he’d fallen asleep at the table, unresponsive. I had to carry him home on my back, stumbling step by step.

The street was empty and silent. Bent over, I watched our long shadow stretched by the moon and listened to his shallow breaths. I didn’t mind at all.

When we got to his building he woke, slapped my shoulder and joked, “Pudgy girl’s got strength.”

I was mad at being called “pudgy” and spent the whole summer dieting—down from 115 to 100 pounds.

He bragged when he found out, “My words are that effective? If you ever get fat again, I’ll make you carry me in a marathon.”

I smiled bitterly at the memory and raised an eyebrow at Noah. “Do I look fat?”

Noah blinked. “Not at all. Just right.”

Ethan smiled and pointed at the menu. “Order. You know what I like.”

I was suddenly irritated by his confidence and deliberately ordered dishes he disliked—cabbage, braised pork, tomatoes.

He didn’t care. He leaned back, lashes lowered, long fingers flying across his phone, and kept showing me indulgent little smiles.

I felt a little dizzy. What did this childish stunt of mine prove? My anger, my unwillingness to accept defeat, my attempt to show him how well I knew him? Not just what he liked, but what he hated.

After dinner Ethan went off to find Lily.

I sat in Noah’s car listening to mellow music and felt utterly exhausted.

All the years of unrequited love crowded up in my chest in that moment and I couldn’t breathe.

“Noah, how much do you like Lily?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said, glancing at me. “But I can’t let her go.”

Tears slid down my face instantly.

Unreturned love is a special kind of ache.

He handed me some tissues; his eyes were a little red too now.

I wiped my tears and said, “I’ve never been in a relationship. I’m counting on you.”

“I haven’t either, but trust me.”

He met my eyes and gave a small, shy smile. “From now on, you’ll be my girlfriend.”

“Do you think we’ll be happier than they are?” I asked, looking at the rushing traffic outside, asking him and myself both.

“I’ll be with you to give us both a chance, not to play games with anyone,” he said deliberately. A faint flush warmed his ears.

Sunlight poured into the car, highlighting a liveliness in him—the thin down on his cheeks catching a gentle glow.

I stared at him, surprised and speechless.

When we reached my building Noah jumped out and quickly opened the passenger door for me.

He smiled with bent brows, a shy, nervous light in his eyes. I tilted my head up; something fluttered at my heart, a feather-light thrill.

“Thank you,” I whispered. My face warmed.

He looked away bashfully, then summoned courage and met my eyes again. His fair face was flushed and a sheen of sweat dotted his forehead.

“I’ll try to learn how to be a good boyfriend, so your first relationship is a great experience.”

I couldn’t help laughing at his earnestness. “A great experience”—wasn’t that something you tell a client?

That night Ethan added me to a group chat with him, Lily, and Noah.

The group was called “Love Squad.”

I thought it was funny, muted the notifications, and soon Lily added me.

Her avatar matched her—cute. Every message came with an emoji and playful lilt.

She tried to chat about Ethan. I was resistant and cold in my replies, so she switched the topic to Noah.

She told me Noah had been a top student, full of scholarships, now working in product development at a good company with a nice salary, house and car, healthy parents, retirement savings. Perfect marriage material. Don’t miss your chance.

She said if Noah ever bullied me I should tell her and she’d teach him a lesson.

I stared at my phone and thought.

She knew Noah’s worth but didn’t want him. Ethan was the same.

Abandoning pride and dignity to run after them was both unfair to them and humiliating to me.

My phone buzzed. Ethan had messaged, “Are you with him because of me?”

My nose went cold. I threw the phone aside and buried myself under the covers, frozen.

Memories of Ethan kept flashing through my mind.

“Anna, thank goodness you were there.”

“Anna, thanks for staying with me. You’re truly a good friend.”

“Anna, you’re the only one who gets me.”

I was so important to him—yet he wouldn’t fill the biggest gap in my life.

My phone kept ringing insistently. I sighed, picked it up, and hit accept.

No one spoke on the other end—just the shallow, steady sound of breathing.

We fell into a silent contest. Time seemed to slow; each second stretched.

After who-knows-how-long, Ethan Cole spoke softly, “Anna… I’m sorry.”

He hardly ever apologized. Even when he upset me, he always acted like he’d won, letting me soothe myself. So this “sorry” made me want to ask why.

Was it a clear rejection, or a vague twinge of guilt?

My throat felt stuffed with cotton. I swallowed several times before I could force out, “Ethan, it’s okay.”

He exhaled, relieved. “Anna, thank you…”

I cut him off. “I’m not waiting anymore.”

Something heavy I couldn’t see quietly crumbled. My chest felt empty, and oddly light. The room seemed brighter.

“What do you mean, Anna?” he asked cautiously after a pause.

I didn’t answer. For the first time, I hung up on him.

All these years I’d been waiting for an excuse to let go of Ethan. Once love gets beaten down by disappointment, I told myself, I’m free. Today I reached that tipping point—I didn’t have the energy to keep burning for him.

“We don’t stay together to sulk at other people,” Noah Carter’s words flashed through my mind. Impulsively, I called him.

He picked up quickly; his voice was clear and warm. “Hi, Anna Chen.”

He said my name slowly and sincerely.

I knocked over the framed photo of Ethan and me on the nightstand, drew a breath, and shifted into a teasing tone. “What do you like about me, Noah?”

He was stunned for a heartbeat, then let out a light laugh.

A delicate, flirtatious tension sparked between us.

We’d agreed that Noah and I wouldn’t meet Ethan alone, and Noah wouldn’t see Lily Monroe by herself—we’d treat this seriously.

The next morning, I saw him as soon as I came downstairs.

The morning light was bright. He stood there in a tailored black suit—broad shoulders, slim waist, long straight legs—tall and upright like a young poplar tree.

Today’s look was a world away from his casual outfit yesterday. He seemed steadier, more composed. His shirt was buttoned precisely, showing the handsome line of his throat. Close up, there was a small brown mole near his pale skin.

“Good morning, Anna,” he said with a slow smile; his hair caught the sun. “I’m walking you to work.”

I hadn’t expected him to be so earnest.

He started taking a detour every morning to drop by my building, bringing a generous breakfast in the car and picking me up from work at night with dessert in tow.

After a few days I felt awkward and told him, “You don’t have to go to so much trouble—I can come to you after work.”

He lowered his lashes and smiled shyly. “It’s not trouble. Other couples do this; I looked it up online.”

He always treated our relationship with lively enthusiasm and energy—no impatience, no hesitation. He’d remember tiny habits: I like milk tea half-sweet, no pearls—he’d actually written it in his phone notes. Lily even told me Noah asked Ethan about my hobbies—though Ethan didn’t know anything.

Was all this just a search-engine love manual? I felt a flicker of disappointment, then brightened: even formulas require effort and sincerity. I melted into the little details he offered and, against my old single self’s sarcastic instincts, found myself acting coy—textbook girlishness that made my cheeks burn when I remembered it later.

The first time we held hands, I was the one who moved.

To be precise, my hand moved first. As soon as my fingers brushed the back of his hand, he gripped mine fast—no chance to back out. After that, there was no turning back; he rarely let my hand go.

One night after a movie, a shadowed figure stood under a tree not far away: black clothes, a flat cap pulled low. The silhouette felt oddly familiar.

“What’s wrong?” Noah asked, following my gaze.

“Nothing.” I shook my head and looked up at him with a smile. “It’s been a good day. Thanks.”

He affectionately ruffled my hair and handed me my bag. “If my girlfriend is happy, I’m happy.”

After spending time together, Noah had learned a few gentle romantic lines. He still blushed at them, voice shy and earnest. I couldn’t resist teasing him.

“Why don’t you… come up with me?” I asked, making my voice small and coy.

As expected, his ears flushed and the pink rushed to his face. I laughed triumphantly—and then felt something cool and soft brush my forehead like a dragonfly’s touch before it was gone.

Everything froze. Silence swallowed the night except for my pounding heart.

After what felt like forever, Noah’s rich, low voice whispered, “Next time…I’ll definitely come up.”

My stare slid from his sharp Adam’s apple up to his face. He had striking eyes—double-lidded, restrained at the inner corners, with amber irises that matched his hair. They reflected my flushed cheeks.

“Okay.” I said it, then bolted without daring another look.

That night, after I’d calmed down, Ethan messaged me: You haven’t talked to me in a while. Still mad?

For a second I was surprised, then relieved. I could ignore him; I wasn’t dependent on him.

He followed up: Want to hang out?

I texted, I’ll ask Noah. After I sent it, there was no reply.

I didn’t worry. I talked nonsense with Noah until late. When I finally checked, it was already eleven.

On Ethan’s social feed, three minutes earlier he’d posted a new update: a close, intimate photo of him and Lily cheek to cheek, no caption. Ethan stared at the camera, lips turned down slightly—something was on his mind. Lily looked blissful.

I felt more wistful than heartbroken; I wanted him to be happy.

As soon as I liked the photo, Noah video-called. He’d just gotten out of the shower—wet hair, warm yellow lighting softening his features. He looked quietly sexy.

“Anna, want me to keep you company for a bit?” he asked, voice gentle and attentive.

I watched him and felt a small warm place spread in me. “I’m not sad. Thank you.”

It seemed we’d said “thank you” to each other more than anything else since we met. He took care of me in constant little ways; it felt comforting.

“Do you want me to tell you jokes, make you laugh?” I asked.

He paused, then frowned in thought, “Seeing her happy makes me kind of glad.”

Lately I kept spotting the man with the flat cap near my neighborhood. The figure was so familiar that whenever I tried to walk over, he always left before I could see him. A sudden, cold suspicion froze my blood. I decided I’d find out the truth that night.

But at the end of the workday, a student burst into my office in tears, insisting on taking me to dinner. He was one of my sponsored students, a repeat college-entrance-exam student at the tutoring center. I couldn’t refuse; other teachers egged me on, and I finally gave in.

“I’ll pick the place,” he said. I handed him a packet of tissues and smiled helplessly.

I told Noah not to come—that I had to eat with a friend.

At the outdoor stall, the student announced he’d gotten into his dream school. I was so happy I forgot my weak tolerance for alcohol and drank more than I should. Staggering, the student worriedly suggested, “Ms. Chen, should we call your boyfriend to pick you up?”

Boyfriend—the word landed on my heart like honey. I covered my face and laughed, “Oh right, I have a boyfriend. Haha…”

I called Noah. His voice was clear and bright. “Anna, are you done? I’ll pick you up.”

The way he said my name—light and intimate—made me melt. I crooned, drunk and soft, “I miss you.”

He seemed momentarily stunned and didn’t answer. Riding the buzz, I went on, “Noah, hurry. I really want to see you.”

“Okay. Send me your address. I’ll be there.” His voice held a smile.

I sent him my location. The student across from me suddenly flushed. “Ms. Chen, I guess I misunderstood you. I thought you were always the rational type.”

I looked at him, eyes misty, shook my head. Years of being sensible had been forged between Ethan’s countless disappointments and the hopes he gave. Now someone was with me, and I wanted to be braver—drop my guard.

“You don’t have to be rational in front of the one you love,” I tried to sound profound but my voice trembled.

When Noah arrived, alcohol made me giddy. A little voice in my head said it was okay to be a bit wild tonight—alcohol was my excuse.

I threw my arms around his waist and leaned into his chest, tilting my chin up to look at his jawline, giggling, “Noah, I’m drunk.”

Not totally drunk—just tipsy. He carefully steadied me. “Why’d you drink so much?”

The student stepped forward and politely explained to Noah, “Sorry—I was so happy I kept feeding her drinks. I only passed my exam because Ms. Chen helped me so much after hours.”

Noah’s eyes lit with appreciation as he smoothed my hair and said like he was indulging a child, “Come on, Anna. Let me take you home.”

He helped me into the car. When he bent to buckle my seatbelt, he was so close I could hear his breathing. I stared at his exaggerated features, swallowing hard with a hot face.

I wasn’t sure if he meant to, but he moved especially slowly. After fastening his seatbelt, he turned his head and stared at me for a few seconds; his Adam’s apple bobbed.

A faint, almost tangible longing scratched at my heart like a cat.

"Does it hurt?"

After starting the car, he glanced at me, puzzled.

Yes. It hurt.

I gripped the seatbelt at my chest to steel myself. While we were stopped at a red light, I leaned over quickly and kissed Noah on the cheek.

"You kissed my forehead that time. We’re even now."

If we were trying out a relationship, I wasn’t about to come out behind—I had to give back what I’d taken.

His breath caught for a beat. A flush rose on his pale cheeks; his fingers tightened on the steering wheel. He didn’t look at me; his back went rigid.

The air between us went quiet. I panicked and looked out the window, unsure of his mood.

I worried I’d ruined the impression he had of me.

Cowed, after all.

He didn’t say anything until we got out of the car.

I hesitated, not knowing how to break the awkwardness.

Suddenly he put a hand on my shoulder, eyes serious as he looked at me. "Anna, can I walk up with you?"

Taken aback, I blinked. He moved a little closer. "You drank too much. I want to take care of you."

Feeling the warmth of his breath, my face flushed. I nodded quickly.

Before we went upstairs, I saw the guy in the baseball cap again. This time he didn’t avoid my gaze—he strode over toward us, radiating a quiet anger.

"Anna, are you bringing him home?"

He stopped in front of me and looked down, his cap casting a shadow over his eyes that made them look extra dark. "You were drinking."

I stepped back. My head cleared almost completely.

It really was Ethan.

Why had he been appearing under my building all the time, watching me from a distance? What did he want?

Noah noticed my reaction and moved closer, tightening his grip on my hand.

I steadied myself, forced a smile and said, "What’s the matter? Can’t I bring my boyfriend home?"

Ethan reached for me, and Noah stepped in to block him.

From behind Noah I couldn’t see Ethan’s face, only heard Noah’s calm, resolute voice: "Ethan, Anna doesn’t like the way you act."

Premium chapters locked

Unlock the rest of the story

200 Book Coins

The next scene of The Boy I Watched From Afar begins with: I wrapped my arms around Noah’s waist, poked my head out from behind him and said, "Ethan, I’m with Noah now. Isn’t that what you wanted? Don’t worry—I’ll stay with him. Lily will… Continue with the remaining 309 story sections.

Get Book Coins to Unlock