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."
The Boy I Watched From Afar
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 always be yours."
Ethan froze for a moment. A flame lit in his eyes. He gritted his teeth and snapped, "Who said I wanted you with him?"
I stared at him, confused.
He didn't answer further. He curled the corner of his mouth into a mocking smile, turned, and walked off in a hurry.
His silhouette looked lonely and small in the sunset.
I watched him go until the tiny ache in my chest steadied.
Noah stayed quiet beside me—he was waiting for my choice.
Just as I'd calmed and was about to bring him inside, his phone rang.
It was Lily.
He answered in front of me, spoke for a moment, then hung up abruptly, anxious.
"Anna, I'm sorry. I can't stay with you tonight. Lily's in trouble."
I forced a tired smile. "Go."
At five that night I was standing on the balcony, zoned out, when I noticed someone sitting on the planter downstairs smoking.
The sky was thick and dark, no stars or moon. He tilted his head back a little; the red ember in his fingers glowed and sputtered.
From that distance I couldn't make out his expression, but I pictured him—the black hair falling across his forehead, the light fracturing in his eyes like a scattering of stars.
Smoke curled around him, shrouding his outline and making his gloom look more distant and resolute.
I'd seen this scene too many times, been addicted to it too many times, and hurt over it too many times.
I pulled out my phone and texted Ethan, my fingers trembling a little: "Go home. It's cold out."
Soon the man downstairs pulled out his phone; the screen glowed pale and lonely in the night.
He stared at it a long time. The light went off. He glanced up toward me, then bent his head and tapped quickly.
"Anna, come down. We've gone too long without talking."
Seeing his message, I fell silent.
I had promised Noah I wouldn't see Ethan alone.
Even though Noah broke his promise by seeing Lily alone today, I still wanted to keep mine.
"Anna, do you really like Noah?"
He asked again.
My thumb hovered over the keypad before I typed: "Ethan, I'm saving myself. I can't keep sinking into a hopeless feeling and wasting my passion for life."
Ethan looked up at me. In the night his thin frame seemed pitifully lonely.
My chest ached. I hurried back inside.
The next morning Noah wasn't downstairs. It was the first time since we started dating that he didn't see me off to work.
Habits are scary—I'd braced myself mentally, but I still felt the sting of loss.
Not far from me, someone suddenly fell into step.
It was Ethan.
His eyes were shadowed dark and tired; his face pale and hollow. He must have stayed up all night outside my building.
We walked side by side in silence.
When we reached the company, he looked at me with his head lowered. His voice was hoarse, barely audible, "You're important to me."
Tears filled my eyes in an instant and spilled down my cheeks.
Ethan and I had been classmates since middle school.
His father was violent and liked to beat him.
Ethan was stubborn; he wouldn't cry. He stared back at his father while getting hit.
Once I stumbled across them in the street; Ethan's mouth was bleeding and his father kicked him. I threw myself in front of him and shouted, nearly bawling, "You'll kill him!"
People gathered; his father, ashamed, bolted into a game parlor.
Ethan pushed me aside, stood up, spat out a tooth, and said coldly to my sobbing self, "Bleeding from losing a tooth won't kill you."
After that, the quiet, solitary Ethan would wait along my route to school, dawdle to walk home with me—if you looked closely, it was because he needed me first, not the other way around.
That need never became love.
When he said I was important, it was because I was always there when he needed me.
"I liked you for so long I began to hate myself for it. Luckily, you smashed my last fantasy with your own hands."
I wiped my tears, breathed in, and managed a small smile. "Let's end it here."
As I turned to leave, he grabbed my arm and stared at my face with stubborn eyes. "Lily was the one who suggested I introduce Noah to you. I thought you wouldn't fall for him."
I pried his fingers apart one by one. He looked panicked. "Anna, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tested you—it's just—"
I didn't let him finish. I walked away without regret, my heart curiously calm.
He had been enjoying my attempts to please him. He grovelled but never considered that one day I might break.
At noon, Noah called and asked me to lunch. I was still prickly and refused.
He didn't give up; he called and called until I picked up.
"Anna, I want to see you."
His voice was low and earnest.
I softened.
Outside the building I found him standing tall in the sun, holding a bouquet of roses so vivid they looked wet.
My resolve melted further.
He hurried to me, lines carved between his brows that betrayed a pile of worries.
"Sorry I let you down last night."
He handed me the flowers. His gaze was clear, but the smile at his lips was strained.
I didn't take the roses. I led him straight into a coffee shop and sat down, head bowed, waiting for him to speak.
He seemed to be struggling to say something; it took him a long time to speak.
I couldn't help but say, "It's okay. I was prepared."
"Ethan and Lily had a fight."
He looked at me; his Adam's apple moved. "Lily had a bad night at a bar—she got into a scuffle and ended up at the police station. She called Ethan but he didn't pick up, so she asked me to bail her out. When I came to your building afterward I saw Ethan."
He inhaled and lowered his lashes. "Anna, when Lily called last night, my first thought wasn't to worry about her. I thought, don't tell Anna. I was afraid you'd go find Ethan."
I stared at him, surprised and strangely relieved.
"I was so scared you'd go downstairs to see Ethan. I waited not far away all night. Thank you for keeping your promise."
His eyes reddened slightly; his smile was tight. "I broke my promise. I'm sorry."
I sat up straight and looked at him seriously. "This is your chance with Lily. Do you want to keep it?"
"I've followed Lily for years. She's bright and outgoing, I'm quiet and dull. I knew long ago I'm not the type she would like. That's not about whether I'm good enough."
He smiled. "I've given up."
He set the roses down, then looked at me nervously. "Anna, can you give me another chance? I promise I'll do better."
I couldn't look at him. I studied the vivid petals and hesitated.
Having been the one to always make the first move for so long, disappointments had made me jumpy and cynical—expecting the worst became second nature.
He waited patiently, silent and steady.
I noticed his knuckles tremble; his nervousness told me he cared.
But Lily—he'd liked her for years. If she comes back to him, could he then firmly choose me?
"Noah, being with you has made me happy. But can you handle your relationship with Lily? If she and Ethan break up and she comes back to you, what will you do?"
He shook his head instinctively. I smiled, stood up. "Don't decide too fast. Let's both be sure."
Ethan disappeared.
Lily came down to my building to ask about him.
The once-sweet girl looked exhausted in her eyes.
I told her Ethan had been in a string of relationships — each one starting for some inexplicable reason and ending for one just as inexplicable. His disappearance this time could very well be his way of breaking up.
She cried until she was spent, then lifted her face and smiled at me through the tears. "I'm different from those other girls."
Once, I thought the same. I chased him with all the loyalty and energy I had.
"How are things between you and Noah? He's a little rigid. Being with him could get boring," Lily asked, the look in her eyes slipping back into that wary caution I saw when we first met.
She still worried about me and Ethan.
"Noah and I are good. He's not rigid — he's earnest," I said, careful to test her.
When I saw her believe me, I breathed easier. Her ignorance of Noah and me meant Noah hadn't reached out to her again.
After Lily left, I wandered alone down the tree-lined path.
Suddenly it began to rain hard.
People scattered in all directions. I froze, unsure what to do.
A black umbrella opened over me. I turned, hopeful, and saw a stranger.
"Broken heart?" he asked. "Try swimming and fitness."
He shoved a flyer at me. "Become a better you. Make your ex regret it."
I waved off the salesman with a laugh and ran home.
"Become a better you" stuck in my head.
Over the years of chasing Ethan, I'd become fragile and hyper-sensitive, always anxious about gaining or losing. Even with Noah's constant care and emotional attentiveness, I still felt insecure.
I realized I needed to find my confidence again — not keep looking to other people to validate my worth.
"Goodbye, rebuild," I wrote that night at midnight and posted it on social media.
Noah liked it within seconds and commented, "Support you."
Those three words hit me complicatedly. Before I could think of a reply, he messaged three times in a row.
"Anna, are you saying goodbye to the past?"
"I'm ready too."
"Our company has a project — if I nail it I can get promoted. I'm working hard."
"Let's work hard together. See you at the top."
I wrote back.
Not long ago there'd been a training opportunity in New York for three months. I hadn't applied then because my heart was entangled. Now I wanted a shot.
After I told Noah my plan, he replied, "I support you."
A little later he sent, "I'll wait for you, Anna."
Something in my chest fluttered. Before I fully processed the meaning of his words, I sent back a single "okay."
Had he really made up his mind between Lily and me?
The next morning I came downstairs and there he was, in a navy suit, standing like a straight-backed statue. His gentleness made the air around him ripple.
Sunlight traced his profile, turning him luminous.
"Anna," he said, striding over. "I'm here to take you to work."
His smile was so bright I couldn't help but smile back.
It felt different than before. For the first time I felt like he belonged wholly to me.
We rode in silence. As we stepped out, he called after me, cheeks flushed, "Anna, I'll pick you up after work tonight."
I felt a sudden, inexplicable shyness and looked away. "Okay," I whispered.
The New York training was set. A coworker who had registered gave his spot to me after I explained why I needed it. He said he'd never seen me so fired up and wanted to help.
That night, Noah was already downstairs waiting.
He hadn't brought the car and mumbled something about it being broken. I couldn't help smiling — he was terrible at lying; whatever he was feeling was written all over his face.
"Fine. We'll take a cab," I said, heading for the curb.
He panicked and blurted, face flushed, "Anna, let's walk together."
I raised an eyebrow and looked at him like I was studying him.
He folded, honest and direct now. "I want to spend more time with you."
A cool breeze blew. The sunset split the sky — one side dim, the other radiant.
My mind slowed to match our unhurried pace.
My phone buzzed. Ethan asked where I was. I shut it off without thinking, pretending nothing was happening.
"I'm leaving for New York tomorrow for three months," I said, looking up.
Noah nodded. "When I finish this project I'll come see you."
We walked slower and slower, saying things that felt small but heavy. At the foot of the building he lingered like he couldn't quite let go.
I took the bag from him and we traded awkward smiles.
He looked like he wanted to say more. Finally he rubbed my hair, "Call me if you need anything. Don't be afraid to bother me."
Back inside my apartment, I pressed against the door, my heart still racing. I peeked out the window and saw him standing below, looking up at my place.
Spurred by impulse, I dashed downstairs. He looked surprised and pleased when I appeared.
"I'm leaving tomorrow," I said casually. "There are a few things I want you to take care of for me."
"Okay," he said with a grin.
Bringing him home for the first time made me nervous. Seeing his cheeks pink, his hands awkwardly unsure where to go, made me laugh.
"First time?" I teased, narrowing my eyes.
"In what way?" he swallowed.
I widened my eyes and sat beside him. "Which way?"
He straightened, mortified, breathing quickly.
I didn't want him to bolt, so I stopped teasing and handed him a dozen little succulent pots. "Take care of these."
He blinked, then nodded vigorously. "I will. I promise."
We ordered delivery and ate together at a tiny table — three dishes for two people — and the apartment felt suddenly cozy.
He remembered my quirks, carefully fishing cilantro out of my soup when he served it.
After we ate he cleaned and took out the trash before leaving.
When the apartment was quiet again, a hollow feeling settled in me.
Noah hadn't confessed his feelings. There was a gauze between us — not fully real. I didn't know what the months apart would mean.
My phone lit up. Ethan messaged: "Anna, Lily and I broke up." Attached was a photo of a pile of empty bottles by the river.
"Be safe," I typed after staring at the picture a long time.
Almost immediately his calls began. He hung up and called again obsessively. On the thirteenth ring I answered to a hoarse, exhausted voice. "Anna, come pick me up. I can't find my way home."
My chest tightened like something had been wrenched. I couldn't refuse.
When I found him he was slumped on the riverbank, surrounded by bottles. The wind tore at him; against the night he looked isolated and small.
I called his name softly. He turned toward me and smiled, his eyes glinting like moonlight on water.
"Come on. I'll walk you home," I said, and began gathering bottles.
He grabbed my wrist, forcing himself up. "Anna, please don't like Noah, okay?"
I stopped. I ignored him.
Angrily he let go. "Anna, Noah isn't right for you. He's only with you because Lily told him to. Are you stupid?"
I lifted my head. My gaze went cold. "Ethan, stop it."
He pulled out his phone and showed me a screenshot.
It was the chat between Lily and Noah.
Lily: "Ethan keeps talking about Anna. I'm scared. Can you help me?"
Noah: "Help how?"
Lily: "Chase her. Keep her busy so she can't find Ethan."
Lily: "Noah, please. I really like Ethan. Once things are stable with him, you can ignore Anna."
Noah: "Okay."
The warmth drained from me. I stood in the wind as my mind buzzed, not knowing what to do.
Ethan pocketed his phone and put his hand on my shoulder. "Anna, I'm sorry."
I was stunned.
"I know you've liked me for years," he said. He looked down at my lips, then leaned in.
Reflexively I shoved him. I shoved harder than I meant to. He'd been drinking; he staggered and fell into the river.
When he came up shivering, I helped him to his feet.
He was soaking, his eyes unreadable, lips pressed thin.
We stood in silence. After a long time he pulled a key card from his pocket and handed it to me, then stumbled off, leaving crooked footprints in the mud.
I clutched the card and watched him walk away, clenching my jaw to keep from crying.
In the past I would've followed him without thinking. Now I felt only shame and anger. The person I'd loved for so long — at the first breakup — used me like a bandage for his loneliness.
Back home I shut off my phone and buried myself under the covers, like hiding in another world.
After a night of reflection I decided to cut ties — with both Noah and Ethan.
The next morning Noah was downstairs as usual, ready to take me to work.
I said nothing the whole drive. Near the company I finally steadied myself and spoke. "Noah, I know you were with me because Lily arranged it. But Ethan and Lily have broken up. You don't need to watch me for her anymore. Still — thank you for being good to me. I appreciated the experience."
He glanced at me, nervous, then pulled over. He thought for a moment with his head down, then looked me in the eye with quiet seriousness. "Anna, the first time I met you was arranged by Lily. I didn't know. Meeting you was a pleasant surprise. I didn't pursue you because of Lily. I wanted to be with you on my own."
I watched his lips move and felt a wave of helplessness wash through me.
"Noah," I said, "Lily told you once she and Ethan were stable, you wouldn't need to pay attention to me anymore. They're broken up now. You don't have to do that."
He seemed to understand something all of a sudden and hurriedly pulled out his phone, opening the chat with Lily. "See? I haven't been the one messaging Lily anymore. She did try to set me up with you, but I never agreed."
I took the phone and scrolled. The conversation matched the screenshot from yesterday, except Noah's refusal had been deleted—only the later "okay" remained.
From their recent messages it was clear Noah had been keeping his distance from Lily; their exchanges had grown shorter, more to the point.
I gave the phone back to Noah, a bitterness I couldn't name swelling inside me.
Ethan actually stooped to stirring up trouble—fabricating chat logs—just to make me accept that room card?
Had he really sunk that low?
"Noah, Lily's single again, you—"
I realized mid-sentence that Noah had only been paying attention to my mood; he hadn't noticed Ethan and Lily breaking up.
He cut me off, took my hand, focused and fierce, ears flushed, eyes hot. "Anna, I like you."
The air stopped. I met his gaze and watched his face flush deeper red.
"Anna, I can't help smiling when I see you. I look forward to seeing you every day. Even the smallest things are fun with you. I want to take care of you, to be with you, forever. This feeling is complicated and I don't say it well—would you be willing to spend more time getting to know me?"
He said it all in one breath, breathing a little hard, his eyes rimmed with moisture.
My lips pressed together, my hand on my knee trembling uncontrollably.
"Noah, while I'm in Boston, can we take some time to figure this out? One last time."
For years we'd each had someone in our hearts. Now that they've both were single again, I wanted us to think this through properly—clear our hearts first, then love.
If we couldn't, then wait a little longer.
"Anna, I'll wait for you."
He said it solemnly.
Before boarding the plane to Boston, I blocked every way Ethan could contact me.
Everything felt changed and yet unchanged.
The second day in Boston, Lily reached out. "Anna, I'm genuinely jealous. A guy likes you so much he doesn't dare to possess you."
Was she talking about Ethan?
I hesitated before replying—and discovered she'd already deleted me.
Seeing the red exclamation mark on my screen, I felt a pang of sadness.
How many girls had Ethan hurt over the years? Lily and I were far from the only ones.
That dangerous, fragile mix of his made girls drawn to him, and he treated that attention like a game.
"Likes me"—probably just a new way for him to play.
I suddenly woke up to it: before, I'd excused Ethan's behavior as immaturity, inventing reasons for him. Now I finally admitted he wasn't that great.
I shook my head, refusing to think more about him.
My schedule was full. Days felt busy and satisfying. Noah and I kept cheering each other on; his workload had been huge, and on video calls he looked exhausted.
But he still cared for me. That warmed me.
One night after work, just after I hung up with Noah—he said his project was at a crucial stage and nearly done—I was hit with a sudden, terrible abdominal pain.
I fumbled for antacids, to no avail. The pain intensified.
Not wanting to delay, I called 911.
At the hospital the doctor said it was acute appendicitis and I'd need surgery.
I was grateful I'd acted quickly, but lying on the operating table under the cold surgical lights, I felt scared and wronged.
After the operation I lay in the hospital room in a daze.
A call came from an unknown number. I answered without thinking.
"Anna, the company is sending someone overseas for six months. Should I go?"
The man's voice was low and expectant. I knew it too well. It was Ethan.
I held back the pain and tried to make my voice sound calm. "Ethan, that's your decision."
He was sensitive enough to notice the weak tone in my voice. "What's wrong with you?"
I said nothing.
After a while he spoke again, tone sour. "So you're not going to tell me anything now, Anna? After everything we’ve had?"
"Yes. I'm done. Ethan, stop bothering me."
I hung up first.
I wanted to call Noah and unload, but didn't want to distract him at this crucial career moment.
I drifted into a fogged sleep. When I woke, it was morning. My phone showed a handful of missed calls—Noah's and several unknown numbers. I guessed Ethan had been trying.
I dialed Noah. It went to voicemail.
Soon my coworker called. When I picked up, Ethan's voice came through—hoarse and tired, like he hadn't slept.
"Anna, let's be friends again. Don't hate me."
"No need," I said.
At that exact moment Noah walked in, morning light haloing him. He looked brilliant despite the messy hair.
I panicked and hung up, staring at him. "What are you doing here?"
He strode in, set down his laptop bag, gaze dark-rimmed and fixed on me. "Luckily Ethan told me you were in trouble. Were you planning to stay in the hospital alone, Anna?"
Apparently Ethan had heard the strain in my voice the night before and tracked down my coworkers. When he learned I was hospitalized he stormed into Noah's office and started a scene with him while Noah was working late. According to Noah, if security hadn't intervened, Ethan might have gotten physical.
"What about your work? Didn't you say you were at a critical point?"
I watched Noah study my chart. He didn't look up, casually: "It's fine. My team can handle it."
I panicked and grabbed his hand. "So that promotion will go to someone else?"
He paused, looked up slowly, eyes clear and earnest as a young man's. "Anna, of all things, I always put you first—no matter what."
My heart jumped and my cheeks caught fire.
"But the promotion will be fine. I'm working hard to make money and marry you."
He laughed and ruffled my hair. "I've been working overtime just to finish sooner so I could come to Boston and see you. Anna, I missed you so much."
Hearing "marry you" made my heart skip. The thought of someone planning a future with me felt so sweet.
"I missed you too, Noah."
Noah and the company took extended leave so he could care for me until I was released. He didn't go back to the office.
By day he accompanied me to class; by night he walked me back to the hotel and helped with homework. In a strange city we moved like any ordinary young couple.
Before long classes ended and it was time to go home. I was reluctant, but certain inside.
When the plane landed, I saw Ethan waiting at the exit, standing with one of my coworkers.
Noah noticed instantly. He gripped my hand and smoothly pulled me closer.
"Anna, over here," my coworker called, bright. "Ethan insisted on picking you up today. Aren't you guys such great friends?"
My brow tightened. I looked at Ethan, displeased. "What's this about?"
Ethan turned his face away, unable to meet my eyes. "I wanted to see you."
"So you cozy up to my coworker and pry into my life?"
A chill ran through me like a heavy stone pressing on my chest.
"Don't be jealous. He's not my friend anymore," I told my coworker seriously. "Don't be fooled. Whatever kindness he shows might have ulterior motives."
Then I tugged Noah and left, refusing even to glance back at Ethan.
Noah watched it all, a smile forcing itself across his face with effort.
I gave him a look and muttered sourly, "I can't believe he targeted my coworker."
He leaned his head on my shoulder and asked softly, "Anna, Lily and I cut things off cleanly. Are we sure now?"
I fell quiet for a beat, squeezed his hand and nodded hard. "Noah, let's be together. Not because of anyone else, but because you're you."
He pressed his lips together and smiled, his eyes full of bright little stars. "Because you're Anna, I want to be with you forever."
The scenery outside the car window flickered by like discarded memories.
While Noah still had a few vacation days, I took him home to my hometown for a class reunion.
Ethan didn't come. The class rep said he'd gone overseas. He'd made his choice.
After dinner the rep led us to the old wishing cliff we used to visit with our books. I remembered dragging Ethan there once and him mocking my naivety.
Noah noticed everyone searching for their old wish tags and whispered, "Did you have one?"
I smiled and nodded. He hurried to the rail and rummaged through the red tags. After a while he found a faded one.
In childish handwriting it read: "Anna likes Ethan and wants to be with him forever."
"Noah, cross him out," he said with a teasing, pleading tone.
I dug out a marker, carefully colored out Ethan's name, then wrote Noah's.
At that moment a mischievous thought crossed my mind: if I changed partners again someday, would I come back to repaint the tag?
But then I thought: every relationship aiming for forever isn't a bad thing.
As I rehung the tag, I noticed another beneath where my original had hung. Neat handwriting wrote: "Ethan likes Anna and wants to be with her forever."
The tag looked old—older than mine.
For a moment I was stunned.
Noah leaned close awkwardly and said, "His penmanship is pretty good, huh?"
I blinked and teased him, "Yeah. Ethan's always had nice handwriting—just like him."
He turned to look at the mist-covered mountains and said softly, "Let's go. I want to see more places."
I agreed with him and followed along. We hadn’t gone far when he stomped back to the wish wall, found Ethan Cole’s tag, and carefully—almost obsessively—blackened out every letter of Ethan’s name, then wrote his own name over it.
That wasn’t enough. He went and found my tag too, and darkened Ethan’s name on mine until it was completely obliterated before he looked satisfied.
Watching his profile, my chest felt sweet and warm.
I knew this kind of childishness all too well—something that only shows up when you’re facing the person you care about.
Like a kid: petty, unreasonable, selfish enough to want it all.
The day I left home, I received a letter.
When I opened it, it was from Ethan.
His handwriting was bold, with a sharp edge to it.
“Anna, I’m a coward. I like you so much, but I never had the guts to claim you. I’m afraid we’ll get tired of each other if we’re together for too long and you’ll leave me. I’m more afraid you’ll see through me and look down on me.
Being ‘just friends’ is always the safe distance.
But I’m too greedy. When you finally decide you don’t like me and treat me like an ordinary friend, I’ll be devastated.
Your happiness will no longer have anything to do with me, and I will no longer be happy.
Goodbye, Anna. I’m sorry.
Forgive me for not being able to wish you well.”
I sighed long and deep after I finished the letter.
All the twists and turns over the years had led to this result—proof, really, that Ethan and I were never meant to be.
Noah came back from the corner store with my dad, both of them laughing, like a pair of father and son.
I ran over and looped my arm through Noah’s.
When he saw the letter in my hand, his face shifted slightly. “What is it?”
I shook my head with a smile. “The story’s over.”
Ethan’s chapter was closed. From now on, it would be Noah and me.
(The End)
