CHAPTER 14

Emily's POV

Why did Ethan react so strangely? Emily thought, her mind replaying the moment from that morning. She knew Ethan cared for her deeply—he had always been protective, almost too protective. But his reaction had been unusual, and it left her confused. There was a part of her that felt upset, not because of his protectiveness, but because he didn't remember what had happened that night. The kiss, the intensity—it was all lost in his drunken haze.

Still troubled by it, Emily left for school, walking alongside her best friend, Cynthea. She shared almost everything with Cynthia, but she couldn't bring herself to talk about that night with Ethan. Some things are too complicated to explain, she reasoned. Instead, she kept the conversation light, talking about school and the usual daily struggles.

As they walked down the road, one of the senior boys called out to Emily. At first, he seemed friendly enough, chatting with her casually, but there was something in his tone that made her uncomfortable. His words felt more like an attempt to flirt than anything genuine, and Emily quickly grew tired of his attention. She could tell Cynthia noticed it too, and the tension in the air was palpable.

The senior, trying to keep her attention, invited both of them to a party that night, mentioning that a lot of their classmates, including Cynthia, were going. But as soon as the invitation left his mouth, Emily's thoughts snapped back to Ethan's reaction that morning. The protective look in his eyes, his sudden possessiveness. The idea of attending a party—especially without informing Ethan—didn't sit well with her.

"No, I don't think I'll go," Emily said firmly, trying to sound polite but clear in her refusal.

The senior's expression immediately darkened; his ego clearly bruised by her rejection. "What's the matter? Are you afraid of Ethan?" he scoffed, stepping closer, his tone now dripping with mockery. "I've heard things about him... not good things. What's your deal with him, anyway? Is he controlling you? Torturing you?"

Emily's temper flared. His words struck a nerve, not just because they were inaccurate, but because he had no idea what Ethan truly meant to her. "Stay away from me," she said sharply, her voice rising as she stepped back. "You don't know anything about him."

The senior looked taken aback, his anger barely contained. He muttered something under his breath and stormed off, his pride clearly wounded. Emily could feel her hands trembling, a mixture of frustration and anger coursing through her. How dare he assume those things about Ethan? she thought.

Cynthia, who had been quiet during the exchange, turned to Emily with wide eyes. "Are you okay?" she asked softly, concern in her voice.

Emily nodded but couldn't shake the unease that settled in her chest. As they continued walking, Cynthia gently nudged her. "Look, Em, don't let that jerk get to you. He's just mad because you turned him down."

Emily gave her a small smile, grateful for her friend's support, but she was still shaken.

"Come to the party tonight," Cynthia urged. "You'll forget all about this. You can't let them bully you into staying away from things. It's just a party, Em. Everyone's going to be there. You need a break, and it'll be fun."

Emily hesitated, thinking back to Ethan once more. He wouldn't want me going, she thought. But at the same time, the pressure of constantly being under his watch, of always having to justify herself, was wearing on her. Maybe a night out would help clear her head. Maybe she needed a moment where she wasn't under Ethan's protective shadow.

Cynthia pleaded with her a thousand times over the course of their walk, and finally, after much back and forth, Emily relented. "Okay, fine," she sighed. "I'll go... but we can't tell Ethan."

Cynthia grinned triumphantly. "Deal."

As the decision settled in, Emily felt a strange mix of excitement and guilt. She had never gone against Ethan like this before, and the thought of sneaking off without him knowing left her feeling uneasy. But she pushed the feeling aside, telling herself that she deserved this—one night of freedom. Just one.