He Broke Me For The Girl Who Bullied Me Chapter 09
Six months. Barely more than that. And he looked like a different man.
The overcoat hung off his shoulders. His cheeks were hollow. Patchy stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave.
The old Ethan would never have gone out looking like this. Even when he was pretending to be broke, he’d been immaculate.
“Drey.”
He said it softly.
He didn’t step closer. Like he didn’t dare.
“Let’s talk somewhere else.”
I turned and walked. He followed, a full meter behind me. The bag he was carrying was heavy — he kept switching hands.
We reached a quiet corner of a park. I stopped.
He crouched and started pulling things out of the bag. Piece by piece, with awkward care.
“These are the herbal sachets your naturopath used to make you. For the cramps. One packet a day, steeped in hot water —”
“These are the pastries you like. From that bakery on Damen. I got a lot. You can take some to the office —”
“And these — these are supplements for your parents. Really good ones. Good for their joints —”
He was still crouched on the ground, still digging. Drawing out every sentence, every tiny detail, for as long as he could.
Until the bag was empty. Until his voice was hoarse. Until he had repeated himself half a dozen times.
And he still would not stand up.
“Don’t come back.”
“Nobody dies from a breakup, Ethan. We’ll both survive.”
His whole body flinched. He bent his head lower.
“Work is under control. I don’t need your help with it.”
“And your being here upsets my parents. It makes things harder for them.”
“Every time you show up, it reminds all of us of what happened. Of what you did.”
The tears kept dripping off his chin. They soaked into the pale brown paper bag from the pharmacy, spreading in dark stains.
“You said it yourself. You have to move on.”
“I want to leave the past behind completely. Then I can start fresh.”
“Then what about our memories? You want to forget those too?”
Finally, he gave up and sat down on the concrete path. Stared up at the sky, unseeing.
“After I actually started dating you, I regretted it. Every day. From the start.”
“I loved you. I loved you the whole time. But I still had to keep up the story in front of them, because of my stupid pride.”
“I’ve lost count of how many times I wanted to tell you the truth.”
“But I was scared. So I kept putting it off until the lie had gone too far to undo.”
He stood up, finally. Brushed the grit off his jeans. His head still down. He couldn’t look at me.
“I did this to you.”
“When Celeste gets out, I’ll deal with her. She won’t come near you again.”
I nodded. Walked around him and left.
This time, he didn’t try to hold me back.