“I understand perfectly.” Ethan’s laugh was bitter. Sharp. “You think I don’t know what it costs?”
“Then why—”
“Because I won’t be your experiment!” His voice rose, cracking. “I won’t be the guy you fuck to prove to yourself you’re not in love with someone else! I won’t be the one you use so you can keep lying to yourself!”
“I’m not—”
“Yes, you are!” He was breathing hard, hands clenched at his sides. “You’ve been lying since the day I met you. To me. To yourself. To everyone. And I’ve watched you torture yourself for over a year.”
Tears burned at the edges of my eyes. “I didn’t mean to—”
“That’s what makes it worse!” His voice broke. “You didn’t mean to hurt me. You didn’t mean to use me. You just did it anyway because you’re so desperate to not be who you are that you’ll destroy anyone who gets close.”
“I wasn’t trying to—“
“You kissed me after I said no.” His voice went quiet. Deadly. “You pushed when I pulled away. Do you understand what that means?”
The words hit me like a physical blow. Ice water down my spine.
Oh God.
“I—” I couldn’t breathe. “I didn’t—”
“You did.” Ethan’s eyes were red now. Wet. His voice broke. “I thought we were friends. I thought I was helping you. And you turned it into—”
“I’m so sorry.” The words ripped out of me. “God, Ethan, I’m so sorry—”
“I know you are.” He wiped at his eyes angrily. “But that doesn’t make this okay. That doesn’t unfuck what you just did.”
Silence crashed down between us.
I could hear my own breathing, the hum of his mini-fridge, and the sound of my entire world collapsing.
“I’ve been your friend since freshman year,” Ethan said finally. His voice was quieter now, but somehow that made it worse. “I’ve listened to you. Supported you. Watched you destroy yourself over Liam Moore. And I never asked for anything back. Never expected anything.”
“I know—”
“No, you don’t, because if you knew—if you actually saw me as a person instead of just an emotional support gay—you never would have done this.”
The words landed like stones in my chest.
My hands were shaking. “What do I—how do I fix this?”
“I can’t be your emotional crutch anymore.” He walked to the door, opened it. Wouldn’t look at me. “I can’t watch you lie to yourself. I can’t keep hoping you’ll be honest. And I sure as hell can’t trust you after tonight.”
I stood up. My legs felt unsteady. “Ethan, I—”
“Get out.”
The words were quiet. Definitive. I walked toward the door on autopilot. Stopped in the doorway.
“I’m sorry,” I said again. Desperate. Pathetic. “I’m so, so sorry—”
Ethan finally looked at me. And the expression on his face—hurt and anger and disappointment and something that looked almost like pity—made me want to disappear.
“I know you’re sorry,” he said. His voice cracked. “But sorry doesn’t change what you did. It doesn’t change that you chose yourself over my safety.”
He paused. Swallowed hard.
