Chapter 4: After the Fall

At the hospital, I waited outside the operating room, nerves fraying with every minute. Nurses urged me to sit, but my legs wouldn’t stop pacing. I prayed—if Grandfather survived, I could lose everything else.

Curled on a plastic chair, my coat wrapped around me, I dozed through the night. At dawn, a doctor woke me: “Miss, your grandfather’s surgery was successful.”

I blinked, stunned, then stumbled toward the ICU. Rushing down the hall, I collided—hard—into a familiar body. The impact knocked me to the floor, pain shooting up my wrist. I looked up. Ethan.

He smelled like whiskey—a shock, since he never drank. Beside him stood Rachel Young, his junior, all Midwest sweetness. She clung to his arm, then gasped in pain as I bumped her.

Rachel bit her lip, playing the wounded bird: “We had a group dinner, Ethan drank for me. Please don’t be mad, Sophie. Blame me.”

The comments exploded:

[He loves her so much, drinking despite his allergy!]

[Didn’t they just break up? That was fast.]

[The supporting character is just in the way.]

My face burned. So this was the truth? Four years of lies, and I’d been the only one not in on the joke.

I wanted to disappear, cheeks burning, chest aching. I nearly ran. But Ethan’s voice, rough from alcohol but still cold, stopped me: “Don’t you have anything to say?”

The comments screamed: [Didn’t your mom teach you to say sorry when you bump into someone?]

I swallowed my pride, the urge to bolt fighting with the shame in my chest. “...I’m sorry.”

He waited, eyes boring into me. My hand throbbed behind my back, but I forced the words out: “I’m sorry. For before. For everything. I won’t bother you again.”