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When Love Hit Zero

Novelix Completed

追妻火葬场、打脸、背叛、未婚夫/妻、大女主、第一人称视角、女性力量/大女主、剧情/戏剧、现代/都市

Chapters (3)

第1章

The Thanksgiving family dinner—Ethan had promised to come home with me to meet my parents. But the night before we were supposed to leave, he roped me into his number game again, this time with my best friend Chloe. "Zero to ten. Pick a number." I picked zero. Chloe picked ten. The next second, Ethan turned to me with a grin. "Then tomorrow, on Thanksgiving, I'll spend zero hours with your parents. Sorry, Claire—I can't go home with you." Before I could even react, he turned to Chloe. "Your mom's coming to Boston for the holiday, right? I've got ten hours for you guys." "Amazing!" Chloe high-fived him, her eyes bright with the unmistakable glow of being chosen. I stood off to the side, the whole thing landing somewhere between absurd and inevitable. The number game was Ethan's favorite game. But no matter what I picked, I was always the one who lost. Valentine's Day—I picked eight, Chloe picked zero. He said eight hours meant he couldn't see me, and spent the whole day with Chloe instead. Fourth of July—I learned my lesson and picked zero. Chloe picked five. So he canceled my plane ticket, took Chloe to Miami, and didn't come back for five days. Every time I got upset, he told me I was being petty. "It's just a game. Why do you take everything so seriously?" But I should have figured it out a long time ago. In a game with no rules, the loser was always going to be me. This time, I didn't get angry. I didn't ask questions. I just opened the booking app and canceled his ticket. Then I tapped into a conversation thread I hadn't opened in a very long time. Are you around? Come home with me for Thanksgiving tomorrow. Meet my parents. … Ethan noticed me staring at my phone and came over, slinging an arm around my shoulder. "Did you cancel the ticket?" "Tell your folks I'm sorry for me, okay? I'll visit them next year for sure." My thumbs froze mid-sentence. Next year? He'd said the exact same thing last Thanksgiving. We'd had the trip planned a month in advance. He knew my parents had spent an entire week preparing for his visit. But the moment we were supposed to leave, Chloe mentioned she wanted to watch the sunset from a mountaintop, and suddenly he was pulling me into the number game. When I refused to play, he picked a fight, then turned and walked out. My phone lit up, cutting through the memory. Yes yes yes! I'll get ready right away!!! Okay. I typed back, locked the screen, and stepped forward—out of Ethan's reach. "No need." "I already have someone to take me home." Ethan's hand hung in midair. He stared at me for a beat, then broke into a smile. "Mad at me?" "This is the same game we've been playing since six years ago. How are you still not used to it?" I blinked twice. It was true—the first time Ethan played this game with me was six years ago. But back then, it wasn't played like this. Back then, he would look straight into my eyes: "Claire, zero to ten. Pick a number." I picked zero. And he smiled, so deeply, so tenderly. "Then for the rest of my life, I'll spend zero seconds not loving you." Because of that line, I went along with the game every single time. I couldn't pinpoint the moment it changed. Just like I couldn't pinpoint the moment we changed. "Okay, okay, don't be mad. Here—a peace offering." He handed me a gift box. I took it instinctively, before I could even process what was happening. Then Chloe shrieked. "Oh my God—is that the sugar-free pecan pie from Harper's Bakery? My mom has been dying for this! Where did you even find it?" I froze. Last week on a video call, my dad had mentioned the same pie. His blood sugar was bad—the doctor told him to cut back on sweets—but this sugar-free pecan pie was a limited edition, and he'd brought it up more than once. I'd tried to buy it for him, but every channel was sold out. Out of options, I'd asked Ethan for help. At the time, he'd been completely dismissive. "Sugar-free pecan pie? It's all just a marketing gimmick." I'd assumed he'd forgotten. I hadn't expected him to actually remember. A faint warmth crept through my fingertips. I was about to thank him when his next words turned my blood cold again. "Really? Then let's give it to your mom." He reached for the box, seemingly forgetting what he'd just said. I didn't let go. "I told you it was for my dad." "I'll have my assistant track down a few more boxes later." "Thanksgiving is tomorrow." Ethan's hand stilled on the box. A crease formed between his brows. "Claire." That was the tone he always used when he was annoyed. Chloe drifted over, hooked her arm through mine with a sweet smile. "Forget the pie—I don't need it. Don't fight because of me, you two." "Come on, shake and make up." She grabbed my hand and shoved it toward Ethan. Her nails dug into my skin. I pulled back on reflex. She stumbled forward into Ethan's arms, and he caught her without missing a beat. "You okay?" "I'm fine." Chloe shook her head, then looked at me with reddened eyes. "Claire, keep the pie. Just don't be mad anymore." "She said it's yours, so it's yours." Ethan snatched the box from me and pressed it into Chloe's arms. When he turned back to me, his voice was sharp with impatience. "It's one pie. Is it really worth fighting over?" The warmth in my palms hadn't even faded, but my heart had gone completely hollow. I looked at him and, strangely, I smiled. "You're right. It's not worth it." The pie wasn't worth it. Neither was he.

第2章

Hearing this, Ethan's expression softened. "That's more like it." "Come on, the company Thanksgiving dinner starts soon. Let's go." He left with Chloe without looking back. By the time I got downstairs, Chloe was already in the passenger seat, laughing about something with Ethan. When she saw me, her smile faltered for a fraction of a second. "Claire, sit up front." Her hands fumbled with the seatbelt, but she couldn't seem to get it unclicked. "Don't." Ethan kept her in place, then glanced at me. "Just sit in the back. Chloe's used to riding shotgun." I paused for a moment but said nothing. I opened the rear door and climbed in. Ethan hit the gas, and a pop-rock track filled the car through the speakers. Chloe's favorite song. It wasn't just the speakers. The car diffuser was set to Chloe's preferred sea salt and sage. The glove compartment held her lipstick, her sunglasses, her hat. She really was used to riding shotgun. In the four years since he'd bought this car, Ethan had never once driven me to or from work—afraid our coworkers would find out about us. But Chloe, even before she worked at our company, had enjoyed his door-to-door service. Before, maybe because I was too deep in it, none of this had bothered me. Just as Ethan always said—he and Chloe grew up together. If anything was going to happen between them, it would have happened long before I came along. Besides, Chloe was my best friend. She was the one who'd introduced us in the first place. But now, without the filter, I could see clearly. The way they acted around each other had crossed a line a long time ago. Halfway through the drive, Chloe fell asleep. Ethan wiped the sweat from her forehead with a tissue, then tapped the center console twice. A wave of cold air hit me instantly. I sneezed three times in a row. The display read sixty-eight degrees. I reached for the rear vent to close it, but Ethan stopped me. "Don't. Chloe runs hot. She won't sleep well otherwise." "I'm closing the ones in the back." "If you close the rear vents, the cabin temperature still rises." He caught my eye in the rearview mirror, brow slightly furrowed. "You should've worn another layer before going out." "Just hang in there. We're almost there." I looked at the jacket draped over Chloe—his jacket—and spoke. "Pull over. I'll get out here." Ethan's grip on the steering wheel went white-knuckle tight. "What are you making a fuss about now?" I pointed at the GPS. "Your rule, remember? To keep coworkers from getting the wrong idea about us, I get out five minutes before we arrive." He frowned at me, about to say something, but Chloe suddenly stirred awake. "Are we almost there? I think I just saw someone from HR." Ethan's expression tightened. He quickly pulled to the curb. "Then go ahead and get out here." My hand tightened on the seatbelt for a second. I nodded and opened the door. I was about to cross the street when a car came tearing past. The gust of air knocked me off my feet. Blood seeped from my palms. "Watch out!" Behind me, Ethan seemed to reach for his seatbelt, but Chloe tugged lightly at his sleeve. "Let's go. It'll look bad if someone sees you." He stopped moving. All he left me with was a single line: "Be careful." The light turned green. The car roared away, and Ethan's voice dissolved into the noise of the street. I sat on the ground for a moment, and laughed softly to myself. Then I took out my phone and opened the offer letter from a company in Savannah.

第3章

By the time I arrived at the restaurant, everyone else was already there. Ethan's gaze lingered on my scraped palms for a heartbeat, then darted away. "Claire, over here! Saved you a seat." Chloe waved me over with a smile. Eight years ago, I'd tripped during a race with her, and she'd reached out to me with the same smile. Only back then, her smile was clear and open. Now, there was something behind her eyes I couldn't read. "Claire, the pie Ethan gave today—it should've been yours. Let me toast you as an apology." A single, carefully vague sentence that turned every head in the room toward me. "What the hell? Claire's so desperate for Ethan she's snatching gifts he gave Chloe?" "Chloe's talking about that pecan pie she posted, right? That's obviously a meet-the-parents kind of gift!" "Everyone at the company knows Ethan and Chloe grew up together. They're meant to be. Who does Claire think she is? She should take a good look in the mirror!" Because of Ethan's secrecy, no one at the company knew we were together. This wasn't the first time I'd heard remarks like these. But Ethan had never once set the record straight. And this time, he furrowed his brow and snapped. "Enough!" His voice wasn't loud, but the room went silent instantly. Something stirred deep in my chest, uncontrollable, and I reached for the iodine swab on the table. But nothing happened. Ethan only glanced at me in passing before turning to take the wine glass from Chloe's hand. "You're on your period. You can't drink." He signaled a waiter, who set down a cup of hot ginger tea and a hand warmer. "Drink this. Warm your stomach." The room erupted all over again. I lifted my hand and tossed the iodine swab into the trash. Chloe's face flushed pink, as if she'd been rouged. "Claire, then let me use tea instead." She raised her cup again, but I blocked her hand. "I can't drink either." Her eyes instantly welled with tears. "Claire, you still won't forgive me?" Seeing her distress, Ethan finally turned to me. "Claire, it's Thanksgiving. Everyone's here. Don't ruin the mood." I looked at him steadily. "I'm on my period too." In the early days, he'd even remarked how fitting it was that Chloe and I were such close friends—so close that our cycles synced up. But at some point, he'd only remembered hers. Ethan's gaze sharpened. But Chloe let out a small sob beside him, and the hesitation in his eyes vanished completely. "One drink won't kill you." One drink won't kill you. When I was on my period, he said one drink wouldn't kill me. When Chloe was on her period, he had ginger tea and a hand warmer ready. Love and indifference—it had been obvious all along. I picked up the glass. "Fine. I'll drink." Consider it a funeral toast for the three of us. Ethan's fingers twitched, but in the end, they just curled into a fist. The alcohol slid down my throat. My lower abdomen seized immediately, and my stomach cramped right along with it. I forced my spine straight. "I'm tired. I'm leaving." At the door, my legs finally gave out. I stumbled and collapsed. The next second, I fell into a familiar pair of arms. "How are you in this much pain?" Ethan's brow creased deep as he guided me to a nearby lounge area. "Drink some warm milk." He pressed a cup of warm milk into my hands—heated to exactly the temperature I liked. "Let me drive you home—" His phone blared to life. On the other end, Chloe's voice came through, frantic and pleading. "Ethan, my mom got to Boston early—she's about to arrive at the station—" Before she'd even finished, he was already grabbing his coat. "I'm on my way." He took a few steps, then stopped, turning back to look at me with something like hesitation. "Let me pick her up first, then I'll come back for you. Chloe's situation is more urgent." Of course. Her situation was always more urgent. I was always an afterthought. Even though I was the one who was supposed to be his girlfriend. I sipped the milk and said nothing. Quietly, I submitted my resignation. Then I called a cab home. This time, I wasn't going to wait.