substitute

Ethan Hayes was notorious as a playboy.

He treated every girlfriend like gold, showering them with whatever they wanted.

Except for a ring.

Everyone knew he was hung up on his first love, still bitter about their breakup.

It was like he couldn't move past that with any other girl.

Five months into our thing, my family was getting on my case.

I had no choice but to break it off. "I heard your first love's coming back. Congrats."

He just smiled and said, "Yeah."

That night, his buddies threw him a "single again" bash.

It was a huge party, loud and crazy. Someone piped up, "Hey, Ethan, I think I saw Mia earlier, with some other dude. He was pretty hot."

Right away, everyone started gossiping, going wild with the rumors.

Ethan suddenly snapped, stubbing out his cigarette, laughing without a hint of humor. "She's the one who said we should be a couple, she's the one who dumped me.

"Like that's how things work."

1

When Ethan and I first got together, his friends placed bets on how long it would last.

And we're talking serious cash.

His family was loaded, his name was known all over the city. When I first met him, my roommate warned me, "The Hayes family up north? They're not people you mess with."

"But this third son, he's different. I hear he's easy to get with, never loses his temper, always leaves his girlfriends on good terms."

And it was true.

But between us, it wasn't exactly a 'who chases who' kind of situation.

At the time, I was working on my Master's, doing research with my professor. I needed a rare, out-of-print English book. I'd posted everywhere online, but no luck. I was about to give up when someone finally replied.

It was a casual but earnest tone:

[My grandpa's got that one, if you need it. Just doing a good deed. Hit me up.]

I messaged him right away.

After that, I met up with him twice to say thanks. We got along great, and the last time, standing under the streetlights, handsome features sharp, he looked like he was thinking about something. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "So, are we gonna see each other again?"

Would we see each other again? Through spring and fall, year after year, would we ever meet again?

The moonlight was cold, it was a perfect moment.

If I said no, it would be disappointing. On a whim, I laughed, trying to match his energy, and asked, "I heard you're easy to get, is that true?"

He looked at me, a grin spreading across his face, "Why don't you try me?"

When you're young and naive, and you meet someone like that, so effortless, so confident, it draws you in. And I had seen him before. When I first came to this city, my wallet got stolen at the station. I didn't have a dime to my name, and when I got out of the police station it was raining. I was a mess, crying hard.

He drove up next to me, and in a slow, easy way asked, "Where are you headed? Hop in, I'll give you a lift."

Of course I was too wary to get in a car with a stranger.

He was persistent, though, gently convincing me, "...