Chapter 2
ALICIA
Bad things come in threes. That’s the superstition, right?
I didn’t know if I could handle one more.
For the first time in my life, I told a partner, “I love you”. I didn’t know how it was supposed to feel after, but I didn’t think it was supposed to feel like my heart was beating out of rhythm.
After that disastrous conversation with Ethan, I had gone no contact when he left for his away game.
Yet, he still managed to send me his regular pregame text as if he hadn’t just insulted me in every possible way.
“Wish me luck, love. Looking forward to reading your commentary after the game.”
I scoffed. Is he for real? Yes. Yes, he was. The arrogant bastard.
We had come up with our own unofficial ritual over the years.
Ethan would text me before he hit the field.
I would send him a string of messages throughout the game—mostly of ridiculous observations—and he would read them after, which he swore helped him unwind and decompress from all the adrenalin, bringing him back down to earth.
Seeing the game from the perspective of someone who didn’t exactly enjoy football apparently made my take on things hilarious .
Not anymore. After his insults, I didn’t even bother watching him play. Why would I? I only ever watched it for him. And Ethan didn’t deserve my sharp humour and winning personality.
However, my ignoring him pissed him right off based on his follow-up texts that night, which became increasingly demanding as time progressed.
“Are you really sulking right now?”
“God, I thought that after our conversation, you would get over yourself.”
“Why didn’t you watch me play?”
“You’ve never ignored me before. Where are you, Ali?”
“ALICIA!!”
And after several missed calls? “ANSWER YOUR PHONE!”
I would have laughed at his blatant desperation, except I was interrupted by a different call. One that every person dreaded.
Strike two hit me with the brute force of a battering ram, dropping me to my knees.
Phil Thorne, my solid rock of a dad, had had a stroke.
I was still reeling from my mother’s sobs over the phone as she called her daughters back to Acacia Falls—the small town we spent most of our teenage years. I kept on zoning out in the passenger seat as my older sister, Alexis, sped down the highway leading us out of the city.
It was the middle of the night. Austin, my three-year-old nephew, slept in the backseat as my sister and I talked in circles.
When we finally arrived at the hospital hours later, Dad’s condition had thankfully stabilised. He still had a long way to go, but we were so relieved to know he wasn’t in immediate danger.
We all made camp in his hospital room, waiting for sunrise, not wanting to leave in case he or Mum needed anything.
For the first time in hours, I was able to breathe. I settled back in an uncomfortable recliner shoved in the corner, slipped on my headphones and doom scrolled online, looking for any distraction to calm my mind.
That’s when strike three came barrelling toward me at full speed, threatening to total me to the ground without any fucking padding whatsoever.
The viral video was taken from an odd angle, the person behind the camera was inconspicuous but in the perfect position to get a clear shot of Ethan.
He stood tall and proud in the middle of a crowded bar, surrounded by a couple of football buddies and countless party girls. With quite a few drinks under his belt and an enraptured audience, Ethan’s bolstered speech carried above them all.
“This chick wants me to marry her. She’s delusional. In all these years, I haven’t even acknowledged her in public,” he claimed with a proud expression.
He can’t possibly be talking about… me?
“What if she tries to baby-trap you?” Jake asked. He was known as one of the looser cannon players on the football team, always getting into trouble.
Ethan sneered. “She won’t. She’s a good girl who listens to everything I say.”
A beautiful woman saddled up to his side, skating a suggestive hand down his arm. “That doesn’t sound like fun.” She even managed to tack on a pout at the end.
“Hmm, you may be right, darlin’.”
“Then why do you go back?” Jake asked, digging for more, egging him on to speak absolute trash.
“It’s not me who comes back. It’s just easy , Jakey boy. No commitments means no demands and no expectations. I get whatever I want, whenever I want.” His suggestive tone implied exactly what “whatever” meant.
“Hmm, I dunno. I’m not convinced. You’ve been seeing this mystery woman for a long time, bro.”
“And what? You’ve never met her, right? When I tell you this girl isn’t even marriage material, let alone mother material… ” His speech tapered off as he took a long drag from his beer while the surrounding females cackled in laughter.
His eyes spread over the crowd, his satisfied expression deepening from the enthusiastic reception. Ethan looked and spoke as if he were a king holding court amongst his subjects.
“Although, the usual does get a bit stale after a while,” he continued, his gaze catching on the woman who still hadn’t removed her claws from his fucking arm. “I probably won’t be able to resist much longer.”
The woman preened while Jake gave a mocking scoff. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“Is that a challenge?” Ethan asked with intoxicated and affronted eyes.
Jake’s lips twisted into a cruel smirk. “Yeah, maybe it is.”
Without a beat of hesitation, Ethan drew the woman next to him into his chest and pressed his mouth to hers, their tongues dancing together in a disgusting display of saliva.
That’s when the video cut out.
I was encapsulated in a quiet hospital room with my family, soft snores occasionally breaking through the deafening silence.
But all I could hear was an internal scream rebounding in my skull, a never-ending screech that refused to abate with the realisation of Ethan’s words and actions, sinking deep and true.
The video was only a few minutes long, but that was all it took for maximum damage to be spread.
I opened Ethan’s text thread and found a few unread messages from earlier in the night before his nauseating performance was broadcast all over the internet.
“Alright, I get it. I’ll give you some space then come and see you when I’m back.”
“I was just shocked, love. You know I’m not good at that stuff. We will talk soon.”
“Miss you.”
What a fucking joke.
Or am I the joke?
I felt like a fool. Taken for granted. Absolutely humiliated .
Of course, over the past four years, I had made a rookie error and fell in love with the famous running back, Ethan Harris. But when I laid those revelations on him, I at least expected to walk away as friends—at the very least.
But whoever the person in that video was… I didn’t know him. That person was cruel and vicious, not at all my Ethan—someone I had grown to respect and know.
Whoever that was… they weren’t worth knowing at all.
I blocked him.