Seven years of love

I'd been with Ethan for seven years. Seven years, and he was bored. Just like that, he moved on to someone younger, someone shinier. This time, I didn't fight. I tossed the ring, shredded the brand new wedding dress I'd bought, and boarded a red-eye to LA. His friends were placing bets on how long it would take me to crawl back. Ethan, cold as ice, smirked, "Three days, tops. She'll be back, begging."

Three days turned into a week, and still nothing. Ethan, finally rattled, called me himself. "Chloe, haven't you had enough drama? Come home..." A low chuckle answered him. "Ethan, you can't leave a girl hanging. Someone might just scoop her up."

Ethan's eyes went red, his voice tight. "Put Chloe on the phone!"

Liam's voice, closer to the receiver, murmured, "Can't. She's still out. Gotta wake her up first."

I'd bought the dress in secret, a beautiful, flowing gown. I was finally going to propose. But I was a few minutes late to his party that night. I overheard him talking to his friends.

"Chloe? Over it," Ethan said, lighting a cigarette, a careless smile playing on his lips. "Seven years? Wouldn't you be?"

Laughter rippled through the group. "True. Seven years is a long time, even with a goddess."

"She's hot, though."

"Smokin' body. Remember Ethan's birthday? That little black dress? Every guy in the room was drooling."

"Seriously, Ethan, you were so into her. You really letting her go?"

Ethan’s voice was flat. "Never said anything I didn't mean."

"So...if I made a move, you wouldn't mind?"

"Go for it," Ethan exhaled a smoke ring. "As long as you guys aren't bothered by the secondhand goods."

"Get some self-respect, dude. Ethan's sloppy seconds?" More laughter.

I didn't go into the room. I made an excuse about a headache and left. Ethan didn’t even question it. That’s when I knew it was over.

Within days, the rumor mill was churning. Ethan was chasing a sophomore from the film school, young, naive, and fresh-faced. He pursued her with his usual grand gestures: flowers delivered by the truckload, jewelry, shopping sprees. Just like he had with me. The girl, barely out of her teens, was swept off her feet.

He brought her to a party some friends were throwing. The room went silent when they walked in. A few of the girls shot me sympathetic glances. I smiled. "What's with the stares? Is something on my face?"

Ethan sat down, his arm around the girl, finally acknowledging me. "Chloe, good timing. Let's clear the air."

"Go ahead."

"This on-again, off-again thing is getting old. We’re done." I clenched my fist, the ring digging into my finger. I barely felt it.

"Ashley’s young, innocent. I’m serious about her. I don’t want to string her along." He stroked the girl’s hair. "I need to give her a proper title."

I nodded. "I understand."

"We can still be friends. If you need anything, just ask. As long as you’re in LA, I’ll still take care of you."

"Don’t bother." I stood, forcing a smile. "If we're breaking up, let’s make it clean. D...