Love is hard to express

I'd been Ethan's stand-in girlfriend for five years. One night, at a business dinner where I was covering for him, drink after drink, he just up and left me. His "one true love" was back in town. I laughed. My "one true love" was back too. And then Ethan was tugging at my sleeve, eyes red, asking me not to go.

1.

My phone rang in the middle of the night. Ethan’s usual cold voice: "Ashley, get over here. Now."

I pressed a hand to my cramping stomach. "But I…"

His voice hardened, impatient. "If you don't come, don't bother coming back at all."

Sweat beaded on my forehead. The clock ticked past midnight. I picked up a pen and marked a check on the 30th. Last day.

I arrived at the private room. Ethan sat in the center, long legs crossed, nose sharp, swirling a glass of red wine.

Someone next to him yelled, "Hey, Ethan's girl is here!"

No one moved to let me in. I stood there, shivering in the draft.

Ethan’s face was tight. "Move it," he said, annoyance clear in his voice.

They shuffled aside, and I forced my leaden legs forward.

As soon as I sat down, a full bottle of liquor was shoved in my direction. One of Ethan’s buddies grinned. "Ethan’s not drinking, so you gotta cover for him, right?"

I glanced at Ethan. He was staring down at his phone, seemingly oblivious.

I smiled, took the bottle, ignoring the expectant stares, and drank. Fire burned down my throat, while my stomach churned.

After the third bottle, a hand snatched it away. Ethan sneered. "Enough."

The others quieted down.

He looked at me, his expression unreadable. "You…"

His phone rang. He answered immediately. A sweet voice floated through the speaker. "Ethan, honey, I’m back."

My body stiffened. I couldn’t help but listen.

Ethan’s face softened, his voice thick with emotion. "Olivia, where are you?"

I almost laughed. I’d never seen him so unguarded.

Her voice dropped too low for me to hear. Probably giving him her location.

Ethan grabbed his phone and rushed out, without a backward glance.

Someone snickered. "A stand-in is a stand-in. Never the real deal."

Ethan's friend, Chris, looked at me, his earlier jovial expression gone. "Olivia’s back, you know. Ethan’s always loved her. Everything you’ve done, it doesn't matter now."

I clutched the empty bottle, counting silently.

Three.

Two.

One.

Ding. A special notification chime on my phone, one I hadn't heard in five years.

Ignoring the taunts, I stood and walked out.

2.

Outside the room, Ethan held Olivia in a tight embrace.

I watched, unmoved. It didn’t sting, not anymore.

Chris followed me out. "Ashley, I'm warning you. Stay away from them."

I didn’t respond.

His voice sharpened. "You and us, we’re not the same."

No, they’d always looked down on me. I’d been Ethan's shadow for five years, always at his beck and call.

Ethan noticed us. His eyes held a flicker of impatience.

I looked past him. Under the streetlight, a figure on a bicycle approached.

Chris seemed to notice my reddening eyes, his voice...