Loyal Friends

Ethan's POV

"Wow. You look as dashing as ever, my love," Sylvia purred as I finished putting on my suit.

She stepped closer, trailing her fingers along my lapel. "Do you want me to tie your necktie for you?"

"No, I can manage," I replied, draping the fabric around my neck.

With practiced precision, I crossed one end over the other, looping, folding, and pulling it through. I adjusted the knot neatly against my collar, smoothing it down as a final touch—a silent declaration that I was ready to face my past.

Despite my flawless execution, Sylvia stepped in, pretending to adjust the already perfectly tied knot.

"Are you ready?" I asked, watching her smile up at me and flash her pearly white teeth.

"Of course," she cooed, linking her arm through mine. "I can't wait to meet your ex-girlfriend."

I sighed. "Please, don't start."

Her expression darkened. "What's wrong with that? Aren't you going to introduce me to Meliza? I've heard enough about her; frankly, I am jealous."

"Sylvia, I didn't bring you here to start a fight." My voice was calm but firm. "We're here to enjoy ourselves. Don't mention her name again—it irritates me." I softened my tone, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Besides, you don't need to be jealous. You're far more beautiful than she is."

That did the trick. Her scowl disappeared, replaced by a smug smile. Almost everyone was already there when we arrived at the garden—except Meliza.

I shook my head. Some things never changed. She was always late. Memories of our dates resurfaced, where I would wait while she took her time, and I hated that I still remembered.

After greeting my aunt and uncle, I turned to the group. "We should start eating. I'm starving."

"We should wait for Meliza," Ruby interjected.

I raised an eyebrow. "If you want the food to get cold, be my guest. But she's always late, Ruby. Your best friend hasn't changed."

Ruby opened her mouth to argue, but I cut her off. "We can't let everyone wait for her."

Her face fell as she mumbled, "Okay." I smirked, satisfied.

As the dinner went on, I enjoyed the conversation with our friends—until she arrived.

As expected, all eyes were on Meliza.

Even the women—some in admiration, others in envy.

She had a way of commanding attention without even trying. This was Vince and Ruby's pre-wedding celebration, yet somehow, she became the main event.

I forced myself to remain indifferent, but it wasn't easy when every man at the table seemed captivated by her.

And when she spoke—her voice smooth, sweet, infuriating—I couldn't resist taking a jab.

She countered effortlessly, using that same charm that once had me under her spell. I clenched my jaw, irritation creeping in. The worst part? They were eating it up.

Thankfully, Sylvia intervened, drawing the attention back to me. And for the first time that night, I was glad she was here.

Meliza's face soured the moment Sylvia curled her arm around mine and whispered into my ear.

I faked a laugh, making sure Iza thought Sylvia had said something amusing. Watching her reaction was satisfying.

I was sure Ruby had already told her who I was now. And just like that, Iza was interested.

She didn't want me before—because, in her eyes, I was just a farmhand. An ordinary boy from a low-income family, not worth her time.

Her words still haunted me.

I wanted to see her beg. To watch her suffer at my hands.

I had never been humiliated before—until she slapped me in front of our friends. That moment fueled me for five years.

I poured myself into work, becoming one of the youngest CEOs in the country. I made my father proud. I earned success, status, and power.

But none of it brought me happiness. Standing on Adriana's farm again, facing her, I understood why. Meliza was my unfinished business. My worst nightmare.

And I would get back at her.

Not now. After the wedding. I wouldn't ruin Vince and Ruby's special day. But that didn't stop me from throwing jabs at Iza throughout dinner—I couldn't help myself despite Ruby's warning glares.

I hated watching her enjoy the night, laughing as if she still belonged there. For five years, she had never come to our reunions. I had waited—hoped—she would one day.

She never did. And my resentment only grew. Now she sat there, smiling seductively at Jonathan, and it irritated the hell out of me.

Some things never changed—still a flirt.

I should have looked away, but I couldn't stop watching her sip her wine, her lips curling as she ordered a margarita.

Her face turned red from the alcohol, yet she kept drinking. Annoyed, I stood up, walked to the kitchen, and ordered the staff to stop serving her.

"You still care about your ex?" Sylvia's voice came from the doorway. I turned to see her standing there, arms crossed, eyebrow raised.

I sighed. "I don't want her making a scene. You don't know what she's capable of. I don't want Vince dealing with a problem at his wedding."

Sylvia didn't look convinced. Her eyes darkened with doubt. And something else—hurt.

"Hey, I already told you—it's over between us." I sighed, stepping closer to Sylvia. "You don't need to look at me like that. I brought you here for support, not judgment."

"I'm not judging you, Ethan," she said quietly. "But it feels like you don't need me here. And honestly? Your actions say otherwise—you're still in love with your ex."

I let out a short laugh, closing the distance between us. "That's the craziest thing I've heard. You're just jealous." I draped an arm over her shoulders. "If I still wanted my ex, I wouldn't have brought you."

She held my gaze, doubt flickering in her eyes. "I'm not jealous. I want to believe you, but know where I stand deep down. Be honest with me, Ethan." She mumbled, and I exhaled, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"We've been dating for months, but I don't even know your friends—except Vince," she added.

I pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You know how busy I am."

"Of course." She forced a smile, but I could see the hurt she was trying to hide.

"You barely have time for me. We don't go on dates. Maybe you should just marry your job, and let's break up." She muttered, crossing her arms.

I studied her. "Are you serious?"

She let out a soft chuckle. "Of course not. I'm not that shallow. I've wanted you since college, Ethan. And now that you're mine, I'll do whatever it takes to keep you." I swallowed, forcing my expression to remain neutral.

Marriage? I had no plans for that. Not now, not anytime soon.

Sylvia was beautiful and came from a good family—everything my parents wanted for me. But the truth is that the real reason I dated her was that my parents adored her.

I wasn't ready for marriage. After what happened with Iza, I wasn't sure I ever would be. She had thrown the ring I gave her in my face. Now, all I wanted was revenge.

Sylvia had never pressured me—until now. And though her words set off alarms in my head, I couldn't let her see it.

Not yet. She was part of my plan.

"I think we should head back," I said, changing the subject. A flicker of disappointment crossed her face before she nodded. "Okay."

She clung to me as we walked, her grip just a little tighter than before. She felt threatened by Meliza's presence, and I made sure to reassure her—grazing my fingers over her cheek, leaning in closer than necessary.

Iza was mid-laugh at something Jonathan said—until she saw us. Her smile faltered. And that was enough to satisfy me. I smirked and was gratified that she was hurt.

Iza hadn't expected me to bring a girlfriend, and now she couldn't make a move. I would let her want me and chase me—but not yet.

Her disappointment was written all over her face as she stood from her seat.

Still, a flicker of concern crept in. She had been drinking more than she could handle.

I knew she wasn't good with alcohol—unless that, too, had been a lie.

She had toyed with my heart, flirting behind my back while we were together. And yet, there was a time when I thought she was my everything.

Pathetic.

I snapped back to the present, excusing myself before following her inside.

She walked unsteadily, her steps slow and uneven. I almost laughed—but even drunk, she still looked adorable.

That pissed me off.

Getting too close was a mistake.

Her familiar, intoxicating scent hit me, and for a moment, I was back in time—back when I was in love with her.

I clenched my jaw and forced myself to focus. I wasn't here to reminisce. So, instead, I insulted and humiliated her, but she didn't fight back.

Didn't say a word.

I scoffed. Talking to a drunk woman was pointless—she wouldn't even remember anything tomorrow.

As I turned toward the back door, I ran into Jonathan.

"You don't need to look after her," I said flatly. "Iza can take care of herself. Or don't tell me you still haven't outgrown your feelings for her?"

Jonathan's expression remained calm. "Ethan, I know how much you hate Meliza for leaving, but she's always been honest with me. And I don't hate her."

He stepped past me before adding, "I'm her friend. And I'll be here for her—whether you like it or not."

I clenched my fists as he disappeared inside. Meliza has loyal friends. That was a problem. I needed to be careful—they were obstacles to my plan.

Back at the table, Sylvia shot me a hard stare, but I wasn't in the mood to explain myself.

When I couldn't take it anymore, I excused myself, claiming exhaustion.

The truth? I needed to think. Not about Sylvia. Not about anyone. Just her. But instead of heading to my room, I went to the roof deck. I needed space.

I tilted my head back, staring at the endless stretch of stars. No matter how much I wanted to forget, the past came rushing back like a flash of lightning—sharp, blinding, and impossible to outrun.