He Let Childhood Sweetheart Move into His House, I Left

In that photo, Mia Quinn stood with a suitcase in one hand and my towel in the other.

No wonder Ethan had been in such a rush to get rid of me. He hadn't even offered to drive me back.

The second I was out the door, Mia must have walked right in.

Mia was a new hire at my company.

She and I weren't close.

A while back we'd clashed over a pitch, and I'd mentioned it to Ethan. He hadn't seemed interested.

I'd had no idea the two of them even knew each other.

I took a deep breath. Something jabbed at my heart, a thin, needling ache.

A little while later, she posted again.

"He really is a dream guy. Gorgeous, soft-hearted, and he cooked me dinner with his own hands."

"I must've saved the world in a past life."

This time Ethan was in the picture.

The two of them sat at his dining table, steam rising from a couple of dishes and a bowl of soup.

He was ladling soup into her bowl.

There was something indulgent in his smile, his eyes flicking toward her the way you'd look at a child who didn't know any better.

My throat went tight and sour.

And Mia was wearing my pajamas, cradling my ceramic mug in both hands.

It looked like she was staying the night.

A place I hadn't gotten into in three years, she'd walked into in a single day.

My breath caught.

The memories came flooding back.

The first time I asked to move in with Ethan was when my landlord suddenly ended my lease.

Ethan turned me down flat.

With nowhere to go, I ended up sleeping at the office for a few nights.

The second time, I got sick, a fever that spiked to almost a hundred and four.

Ethan bought me medicine and food and came to take care of me, but before the fever even broke, he was rushing to leave.

I asked if he couldn't just stay one night. Or take me home with him.

I needed someone. I was scared to be alone.

He shook his head almost before I finished.

"Come on, be good. I'm just not used to having someone around all the time. You can tough it out, can't you?"

When the door slammed shut, the hurt rose up so hard that I started to cry.

The third time, the elevator in my building broke down. Staring up at the twenty floors I'd have to climb, I asked him, "Could I just crash at your place tonight?"

He said no.

"You're always saying you're fat. Stairs are good for that."

There'd been times I wondered whether Ethan, always with that gulf between us, actually loved me at all.

But in three years together, he'd never once forgotten my birthday or an anniversary.

He took care of me, he looked out for me, and he'd worked overtime for days on end just to afford my engagement gift.

He loved me, I told myself.

He'd just grown up in a way that made him used to being alone, with walls built a little too high. That was all.

And now I was waking up from the dream.

Those walls of his had only ever been there for me.

I texted him.

"Going to bed."

It took him a while to reply.

"Night, baby."

"Oh, a girl I think of as a little sister is staying with me for a few days, so don't come by for a while. It'd be awkward."

I looked at the screen and couldn't help laughing.

A little sister?

Since when did Ethan have a little sister? How had I never heard of her?

I didn't push it. I just typed back, "Goodnight."

Lying in bed, I tossed and turned and couldn't sleep.

A new post popped up on Ethan's feed, a screenshot from a video game.

"Fair's fair, I lost. I'm just bad at this."

Below it was a comment from Mia.

"Haha, even the pros choke sometimes. Thanks for carrying me."

She'd added a photo of the two of them holding controllers, laughing together.

I was the one who'd bought Ethan that whole gaming setup.

I'd pictured us playing together someday, once I'd finally moved in.

I never even got to touch it.

And now Mia was leaning on my boyfriend's shoulder, using the gear I'd paid for.

A tear dropped onto my phone screen.

I wiped it away.

And in that moment, the wall inside me finally came down for good.

I was done. Completely done.