Chapter 3: Letting Go and Letting On

Of course, I wasn’t dumb enough to argue with the chat.

I just looked at Ethan, a little puzzled. “Anything else?”

His frown deepened, his pale forehead beaded with sweat.

His gaze was deep, tinged with a bit of displeasure.

Ethan was undeniably good-looking.

Extremely good-looking, actually.

Otherwise, I wouldn’t have chased after him so persistently.

Nine confessions—the last one was after the SATs.

I said, “Now that studying isn’t an issue, can you give me a chance?”

I smiled, eyes bright, full of hope.

But he shook his head firmly. “We’re not right for each other.”

The first eight times, the excuse was not to interfere with school. The ninth time, it was something else.

In my last life, I also planned to give up.

But then, a stream of chat messages appeared before my eyes.

I listened to them and looked back.

Sure enough, I saw his cold eyes brimming with emotion.

They said the main guy was just too proud, thinking he wasn’t worthy of me.

So, I chased him all the way to the city where he went to college, living as poorly as he did.

I swapped my Starbucks for drip coffee from the gas station, gave up takeout for ramen packs in his tiny dorm room. I wore thrift shop flannels and acted like I didn’t mind the drafty windows.

Until the tenth confession, when he finally agreed.

“I’m planning to go study in Chicago.”

Ethan’s voice snapped me back to the present.

When I looked again, all I saw was his back.

His sneakers scuffed our gravel driveway as he walked away, hands shoved in his pockets like he was holding the world together with his fists.