Months later, I told him everything — Ethan, Chloe, the betrayal.
He didn’t pity me. He only said, “You survived it. That’s what matters.”
And for once, I believed him.
Then one afternoon, Ethan messaged me online:
You won. I lost everything. I hope you’re happy.
I stared at the words, then replied:
I didn’t win, Ethan. I just stopped losing.
And I blocked him.
That night, Daniel made dinner. We ate on the balcony, city lights glimmering below.
“You look peaceful,” he said.
“I am,” I answered. “Finally.”
He smiled. “Then let’s keep it that way.”
