Chapter 7: Ghosts in the Hallway

Mrs. Miller soon flew abroad again.

Her absence left the house strangely empty, her perfume lingering in the hall. The quiet was a relief, but also a reminder of everything I’d lost.

The house was left with just me and Ethan.

We tiptoed around each other, careful not to disturb the peace. Sometimes, the silence between us was deafening.

I went to school and came home as usual.

I slipped through my days on autopilot—class, homework, dinner, sleep. It was easier not to think, not to feel.

The only difference was that I no longer clung to Ethan or interfered with his relationship with Rachel.

I kept my distance, letting him and Rachel orbit each other without interruption. The space between us grew wider with every day.

Before, whenever I saw them together, I would always hold a cup of hot chocolate and walk over to Ethan's seat to complain.

I used to butt in, cup in hand, determined to stake my claim. Looking back, I wonder what I was trying to prove.

"Hey, Ethan, shouldn't you keep some distance from Rachel?"

I’d tease, trying to sound lighthearted, but the edge in my voice always gave me away.

He would be working out calculations on scratch paper, not looking up.

His brow furrowed, pen tapping against his notebook. He’d pretend not to notice, but the corners of his mouth would twitch.

"Why?"

He’d ask, as if he genuinely didn’t understand jealousy.

"Because your girlfriend will get jealous."

I’d say it with a bravado I didn’t feel, hoping he’d finally see me.

He would pause, then chuckle, "What?"

His laugh was always warm, even when it stung. I’d blush, but hold my ground.

Blushing, I would retort confidently,

"We're going to get married sooner or later. Can't I call myself your girlfriend?"

The words were always a little too loud, a little too hopeful. I’d watch him for a reaction, searching for something in his eyes.

Ethan would just smile and not reply.

He’d shake his head, a half-smile playing at his lips, but never gave me the answer I wanted.

But he never took my words seriously. He would still share his umbrella with Rachel on rainy days, still lend her his jacket.

He was generous with everyone, but especially with her. Sometimes, I wondered if I was the only one who noticed.

Luckily, now I could ignore all of this.

I let them be, focusing on my own future for once. The world felt a little bigger, a little less suffocating.