Chapter 8: Drawing the Line

He was clearly stunned for a moment.

But quickly shrugged it off and smiled. "Mariah..."

His voice was softer, almost pleading, but I didn’t meet his eyes. I could feel his confusion, his pride fighting with the sting of rejection.

I didn’t look up, didn’t look at him.

Just stared at my toes,

Sinking into the soft carpet, backing away, step by step.

"Ethan, from now on, I’m done playing with you."

"Mariah?"

The smile at the corner of Ethan’s eyes froze.

I took a deep breath, slowly raised my head.

For the last time, I looked at him seriously, calmly.

And repeated it again.

"From now on, I’m done playing with you."

"I have a boyfriend."

What answered me was more than ten seconds of silence.

After the silence, a mocking laugh.

Ethan didn’t seem surprised, just looked at me with that familiar reckless smile.

He lit a cigarette.

As the smoke rose, his face blurred.

"Really dating?" he asked indifferently.

I nodded. "Mm."

He tilted his head, took a deep drag, then stubbed out the cigarette on the counter.

The smile at the corner of his eyes deepened. "Alright, Mariah. If your guy can’t keep up, you know where to find me."

I shook my head. "I won’t come to you again."

The smile on his face faded bit by bit,

Until it became cold and arrogant, keeping everyone at a distance.

I suddenly realized this was his true self.

All the usual gentleness and coaxing

Were just tricks to get me into bed.

A man so privileged and handsome, relying on his looks to act as he pleased—

Of course he was proud.

So, he didn’t say another word.

Nor did he look at me again, just turned and strode away.

I also turned around, heading in the opposite direction.

My phone buzzed nonstop in my pocket.

I walked into the elevator and answered.

Wiped away the tears clinging to my lashes.

"Hello, Mr. Whitaker."

"Miss Mariah, although our marriage is arranged by our elders, I think we should meet before the wedding."

I nodded. "Alright, you set the time, I’m free."

"Tomorrow then, it’s your birthday."

"Okay."

"See you tomorrow, Miss Mariah."

I looked at my red-eyed reflection in the mirror, whispered, "See you tomorrow, Mr. Whitaker."

The words sounded strange, foreign, like I was practicing a new life.