Chapter 3: Humiliation and Goodbye

Sitting with my parents at Ethan’s house, everything felt different this time.

The Harris living room used to feel like a second home—framed school photos, the old green couch with a worn Packers throw blanket draped across it, a tray of homemade Rice Krispie treats on the coffee table, and a family photo from a Fourth of July barbecue above the mantel. Now, it felt like enemy territory, each familiar detail a reminder of what I’d lost.

Before, we’d always joke around. Last time, we even used a game as an excuse to sneak into his room and kiss.

I remembered the look on Ethan’s face, the way he mouthed my name when no one was watching. My cheeks burned at the memory, wishing I could rewind or erase it altogether.

But this time…

The air was stiff, like the calm before a thunderstorm. I felt out of place, perched on the edge of my seat, hands balled in my lap.

“Oh, Karen, you don’t know how hard Ethan worked to chase after Lauren.”

Mrs. Harris’s voice was bright, but it cut straight through the room. I felt every eye flick to me, waiting for a reaction.

“Why not just confess directly? Instead, he insisted on saying he wanted to date her with marriage in mind, and even had Mr. Harris pull some strings to get her here for this blind date.”

My stomach dropped as I glanced at the decorations—fresh roses in glass vases, everything spotless. It looked like a scene from one of those reality dating shows, only the pain was real.

I looked at the carefully decorated house, full of roses.

The air smelled sickly sweet. Even the little things—like the new hand soap in the guest bathroom—reminded me Ethan had planned for someone special, and that person wasn’t me.

Bowls of fruit, candy, and tea filled the table, and even Ethan’s little dog wore a red bowtie.

The Harris’s golden retriever, Max, wagged his tail, oblivious to the drama, looking dapper in his ridiculous bowtie. I almost laughed, but the sound caught in my throat.

Ethan kept checking himself in the mirror, making sure everything was perfect.

He fussed with his hair, smoothed down his shirt, tried on three different colognes. I watched, invisible, like a ghost haunting the life I’d always wanted.

The ridiculous thing was, just last night we were still tangled together, and he’d kissed the birthmark on my waist with such tenderness.

My fingers brushed that spot absentmindedly. I wondered if he even remembered, or if that version of us was already fading for him.

And the boxers he was wearing now—I bought them.

I wanted to laugh, or scream, or maybe both. I forced myself to look away.

“Sigh, what a pity…” Mrs. Harris held my mom’s hand and sighed, “When they were little, we even said we’d become in-laws and joked about a childhood engagement.”

She said it wistfully, her eyes crinkling in the corners. It sounded sweet, but all I felt was pressure, like everyone else had written my story for me.

Mrs. Harris glanced at me. “I really like Natalie. She’s not just beautiful, she’s got such a great personality—lively and cheerful…”

Her words felt like a eulogy. I smiled, ducking my head, my cheeks burning.

I kept my eyes lowered, not daring to respond.

If I looked up, the tears threatening to spill might betray me. I chewed my lip, fighting for composure.

Afraid that if I wasn’t careful, my tears would fall.

I squeezed my hands so tightly my knuckles went white, willing myself not to break down in front of all these people who thought they knew me.

“Mom.” Ethan frowned, clearly annoyed. “You said it yourself, that was your generation’s business. You and Mrs. Smith get along so well, why don’t you two get married? What’s it got to do with me?”

He tried to play it off as a joke, but the annoyance was obvious. He raked a hand through his hair, a habit he’d had since he was twelve.

“It’s a new era, stop talking about those old-fashioned customs.”

He rolled his eyes, like this was some kind of bad family sitcom. I felt a pang—this was all so easy for him.

He didn’t care at all about the parents’ feelings.

Then he turned to me, his tone harsh, as if Mrs. Harris’s words were something I’d put her up to.

“Natalie, where’s the bracelet my mom gave you?”

He looked at me like I was the problem, like I’d been conspiring behind his back. My stomach knotted with dread.

When I didn’t react, Ethan came over and grabbed my wrist, yanking up my sleeve:

“That token from the childhood engagement they always talk about. I’m worried Lauren would be upset if she found out…”

He tugged on my arm, his grip a little too tight. Everyone’s eyes were suddenly on me. My heart hammered against my ribs.

As soon as he said this,

Mr. Harris and my dad, who were drinking tea, both froze.

And my mom, who was arranging flowers for Ethan, also stopped, the vase and scissors clattering onto the table.

The crash was sharp, breaking the silence. Mom’s face was pale, her lips pressed together as she stared at the spilled flowers.

She was about to get up, but Mrs. Harris grabbed her arm.

The room felt like it was teetering on a knife’s edge. Mrs. Harris’s hand shook a little as she stood.

Mrs. Harris stood up decisively, blocked me, and shoved Ethan hard:

“Ethan! What are you doing?!”

Her voice was fiercer than I’d ever heard. I blinked, startled.

“Never mind that you and Lauren aren’t even together yet… That bracelet, you begged Natalie to wear it when you were seventeen, crying and kneeling!”

She glared at Ethan, her eyes blazing. I could feel the weight of her words, each one a blow to the fragile peace of the room.

Ethan seemed to snap out of it.

He remembered that year, when someone confessed to me.

He’d gotten anxious, drank in secret, stole the bracelet in the middle of the night, and cried and made a scene at my house, even kneeling, begging me to wear the silver bracelet passed down in his family.

The memory flickered behind his eyes. For once, he looked sheepish—like a kid caught in a lie. I almost felt sorry for him.

He tugged at his tie, let out a long breath, and managed a smile at me. “I was just a dumb kid… didn’t know what I was doing. Guess I still don’t.”

He tried to laugh it off, but his eyes darted everywhere but at me. I wanted to believe him, but the damage was done.

“It’s fine, I’ll return it to you. I’ll go home and get it now.” I interrupted, my voice calm. “I’ll be quick, I won’t hold up anything.”

I stood, pushing past the stunned silence, every step measured. I didn’t look back—if I did, I might never leave.

Before anyone could react, I grabbed my bag and strode out.

The click of my boots on the hardwood floor was the only sound. The cold air outside felt like freedom and heartbreak, all at once.

When I came back with the bracelet, just as I was about to knock, I was startled by a round of cheers—

The sound of laughter and voices drifted through the door. I hesitated, my palm pressed to the wood, pulse racing.

“Welcome…”

Ethan’s smile froze the moment he saw me. “Why is it you?”

His face dropped, surprise written clear as day. I held up the velvet box, hands shaking so badly I nearly dropped it. Ethan hesitated before taking it, his fingers brushing mine—a beat of electricity and regret.

He clearly didn’t expect me to really come back, or to actually return the bracelet.

There was a flicker of regret, or maybe guilt, in his eyes. For a second, I almost hoped he’d stop me.

When I handed him the bracelet, Ethan looked completely stunned. In the end, he put it away and whispered in my ear:

“Natalie, since we’re such good partners, don’t make things difficult for me today.”

He leaned in close, his voice low so only I could hear. The words stung, more than they should’ve.

“Lauren is a girl, she’s sensitive. Don’t say anything that might upset her.”

I didn’t want to pay him any attention.

I pulled back, lifting my chin, the coldness in my chest hardening into something steely. I wasn’t going to be his scapegoat today.

Lauren is a girl—am I not?

I wanted to scream at him: What about me? What am I? But I swallowed it down, the words burning my throat.

Looking at the person I’d loved for all of my youth, I felt a coldness seep through my bones.

He looked right through me, like I was a piece of furniture or a childhood toy he’d outgrown.

Ten minutes later, Lauren arrived at the Harris house, led in by the matchmaker.

She breezed in, bright and cheerful, her smile lighting up the room. Her hair was perfect, her dress crisp, and the scent of something expensive and floral filled the room before she even spoke. The kind of girl who always seemed to have it all together.

The parents chatted and got along well.

There was laughter and the clink of glasses as everyone settled in, like this was some fancy family reunion and not the worst day of my life.

That was also why my parents had come.

They sat, awkward but polite, adding to the chorus of small talk and strained smiles.

During the small talk, the matchmaker made sure to highlight both families’ backgrounds and future prospects.

It felt like a college admissions interview, every detail scrutinized, every potential connection mapped out.

Throughout, Ethan sat beside Lauren, attentive to her every need.

He leaned in, offered her drinks, made her laugh. My stomach twisted as I watched him play the part of the perfect date.

Almost thirty, yet acting like a nervous schoolboy.

He blushed when she complimented his shirt, stumbled over his words. I tried not to watch, but it was like a car wreck—I couldn’t look away.

With nothing to do, I was happy to find an excuse to slip away.

I drifted toward the kitchen, busied myself with refilling the snack tray, desperate for an escape from the awkwardness.

Unexpectedly, Lauren suddenly turned to me with a gentle smile:

“You must be Natalie, right? I’ve heard so much about you. Everyone said you were the art kid to beat—your mural’s still up in the old gym, right?”

Her words were genuine, her smile friendly. But somehow, I felt like I was being examined under a microscope.

Suddenly put on the spot, I waved my hands. “Oh, not at all. Everyone was just joking back then.”

I fumbled for the right words, praying the spotlight would move elsewhere. My cheeks flushed, heat rising to my ears.

I thought the topic would pass quickly.

I gripped the side of the table, forcing myself to breathe. Any second now, someone would change the subject—right?

But Lauren wouldn’t let it go:

“No way, at that dance, you performed a classical piece. The next day, the gym entrance was filled with flowers for you.”

She laughed, the sound like wind chimes. My memory flashed back to that night, the crowd’s applause, the secret thrill of being seen.

Before I could say anything, Lauren playfully tugged Ethan’s arm:

“You two grew up together, but never got together?”

She arched an eyebrow, looking between us with genuine curiosity. I felt my heart skip, the question hanging in the air.

“I remember you were so close, everyone thought you’d get married.”

All eyes turned to me.

The room went still. I could feel everyone’s gaze—parents, Ethan, even Max the dog. My throat closed up.

I didn’t know how to respond—Lauren, who seemed harmless, made me feel an inexplicable sense of hostility.

There was something in her tone—soft, but sharp at the edges. I realized she wasn’t as innocent as she looked.

“She—” Ethan looked at Lauren and handed her the apple he’d just peeled. “In your eyes, she’s a girl, maybe even a star.”

He grinned at Lauren, but his eyes flicked to me, almost daring me to say something.

“But to me, she’s just a tomboy, my buddy I grew up with, practically sharing the same bunk bed.”

The words hit like a slap. I clenched my jaw, fighting back tears. He was erasing me in front of everyone—reducing me to some childhood sidekick.

As if recalling something, Ethan laughed. “You don’t know, when Natalie cried as a kid, snot and tears ran together.”

He mimed wiping a nose, earning polite chuckles from the parents. My cheeks burned. For a moment, I flashed back to when Ethan once stood up for me in front of playground bullies, daring anyone to mess with his friend. Now, he was the one humiliating me.

“If I hadn’t wiped her nose, it would’ve run right into her mouth.”

I could barely breathe, humiliation threatening to overwhelm me.

“And when she was fifteen, she fainted in gym class from running, started babbling nonsense, flailing her arms around…”

He laughed, but all I heard was the thud of my heart pounding in my ears. Enough was enough.

“I have something to do, so I’ll head out first.” I forced down my anger, stood up, and managed a strained smile at the parents. “Please, everyone, continue chatting.”

I grabbed my bag, blinking hard. I wouldn’t let them see me break, not here, not now.

Lauren looked at Ethan, a little embarrassed. “Did I say something wrong and upset her?”

Her voice was gentle, but there was a glint in her eye—like she knew exactly what she’d done. I bit back a retort.

Ethan shot me an angry glare, as if blaming me for ruining the atmosphere.

He looked so ungrateful, like I’d crashed his party on purpose. I ignored him, focusing on the front door.

Before he could say anything, I cut in:

“I have a date with my boyfriend tonight. If I don’t go now, I’ll be late.”

The lie tasted sweet and sharp on my tongue—maybe, just this once, I could pretend I was the one leaving him behind. I held my head high, shoulders squared, and walked out—feeling, for the first time, just a little bit free.