Chapter 27
The Unmasking: A Nutcracker Story
ETHAN
The apartment is small but neat, with clean, simple decor that makes it seem bigger.
A gray couch takes up most of the living room, facing a flat TV on the wall.
The kitchen's just on the other side of a counter with three stools.
Nothing special, but it's a safe place right now, somewhere we can hide from everyone.
"You're sure Blake doesn't mind us crashing here?" Sylas at me blinks as I ask for the third time since we arrived yesterday.
"For the last time, yes," Sylas rolls his eyes and goes back to scrolling through takeout options on his phone. "Blake and I have an understanding. We hook up when we're both free, no strings attached, and occasionally crash at each other's places. He's cool."
Nodding I sink deeper into the couch. It's been two days since my very public breakup with Tyler, and I still feel raw, like someone has taken a cheese grater to my emotions.
The first night, I barely slept, replaying those photos in my mind on an endless loop.
Tyler and Cher. Tyler betraying me while I stood in the same picture, oblivious.
"Thai or Indian?" Sylas asks, interrupting my spiral.
"Whatever," though food sounds about as appealing as cardboard right now.
He sighs, setting down his phone. "Ethan, you need to eat. We're getting Thai. The spicier the better."
As he places the order, a tall guy with short dark hair emerges from the bedroom, rolling a small suitcase behind him. Blake, Sylas's "understanding," is handsome in a conventional way, the kind of guy who probably played sports in high school but now works in finance or marketing.
"Alright, I'm heading out," he announces, checking his watch. "Flight's in three hours."
"Thanks again for letting us stay," I manage to say, holding myself together enough for basic manners.
Blake waves it off. "No problem. Mi casa es su casa. Stay as long as you need." He turns to Sylas. "I'll be back next Friday. Text me if you need anything."
They share a brief kiss that feels neither passionate nor perfunctory, just comfortable. I look away, a pang of envy hitting me unexpectedly. Not because I want what they have, but because even their casual arrangement seems more honest than what I thought I had with Tyler.
After Blake leaves, Sylas rejoins me on the couch. "The food will be here in forty minutes."
"Great," I reply without enthusiasm.
"You know," he says carefully, "we have to go back to campus tomorrow. We both have labs we can't miss."
Groaning I pull a throw pillow over my face. "Don't remind me."
"It won't be that bad. Most people will have moved on to new gossip by now."
I lower the pillow, giving him a skeptical look. "A video of me publicly breaking up with the Vice President of Delta Psi Omega? Calling him a liar and a cheater in front of half the Greek system? Somehow, I doubt that's old news yet."
"Okay, fair," Sylas admits. "But you still have to go to class."
I know he's right. Hiding in Blake's apartment feels safer, but it's not a permanent solution. Eventually, I'll have to face the reality of a campus where everyone knows my business, where I might run into Tyler or Cher around any corner.
"Fine," I concede. "But if one person gives me a pitying look, I'm coming back here and not leaving until graduation."
Sylas snorts. "Drama queen."
"I've earned it," I retort, but there's no heat in my words.
The truth is, I'm grateful for Sylas. He didn't say "I told you so" about Tyler, even though he had every right to.
Instead, he pulled me into a hug when I knocked on his bedroom door, sobbing, then packed us both bags and brought me here where I could fall apart in private.
The food arrives. I have zero appetite, but focusing on the pad Thai and green curry gives me something to do besides feeling like crap. We eat without talking, with some sitcom on TV in the background that we're both ignoring.
"Do you think it would have worked?" I ask suddenly, setting down my fork. "Me and Tyler. If he hadn't cheated."
Sylas considers this, his expression thoughtful. "I don't know. Maybe." He shrugs. "I was starting to think he might be good for you, before... You know."
The admission surprises me. "Really? Even though he's a frat boy?"
"Even though," Sylas confirms with a small smile. "He seemed to really care about you. That's why this whole thing is so..." He trails off, shaking his head.
"Devastating?" I suggest.
"I was going to say confusing, but yeah, that too." He takes a sip of his water, studying me over the rim. "It just doesn't track with what I saw between you two."
"People show you what they want you to see," I say bitterly.
Sylas doesn't argue, but something in his face makes me think he's not totally buying it. I let it drop. Those photos are all the proof I need that whatever Tyler and I had wasn't real, at least not on his end.
As we clear the takeout containers, my phone buzzes with a text. My heart lurches with pathetic hope before I remember that Tyler's blocked number wouldn't come through at all. The notification shows a different name.
Unknown Number
Hey, it’s Ryan. I heard what happened. You okay? I'm here if you need to talk
Staring at the message, I'm not sure what to say. Texting me from a new phone number is creepy. And it’s Ryan, the asshole who hid me away for months, suddenly cares how I'm doing now that I'm single again? Something about the timing feels off.
"Who's that?" Sylas asks, noticing my expression.
"Ryan." I show him the screen.
Sylas's eyebrows shoot up. “I thought you blocked him? What does the closet case fuckwit want now?”
"No clue." I set my phone down without answering him. "Probably heard I'm single again and wants to check if I'm sad enough to come running back."
"Are you?" Sylas asks, only half-joking.
Thinking hard about it for a second. Would I be that desperate to crawl back to someone who treated me like something to hide? Who always put how he looked to others ahead of me?
"No," my answer is firm. "I'd rather be alone than be with someone who's ashamed of me."
Sylas looks relieved. "Good. Because The Closeted, Limp-Dick, One-Star Sexual Experience was a complete asshole, and you deserve better."
I try to smile because that was one of Sylas's best names for Ryan to date. "Yeah, I thought Tyler was better."
"There are other guys out there," Sylas says gently. "Guys who won't cheat on you or hide you."
My head bobs in agreement, despite how unbelievable that idea seems in this moment.
I can't picture trusting anyone again the way I trusted Tyler.
The thought hits me with a new rush of sadness, not just for the relationship I lost, but for the guy who'd finally convinced himself he wasn't just someone's secret or experiment.
Thursday morning comes with annoying sunshine pouring through Blake's blinds like the world doesn't give a damn that my life's a mess. I force myself to go through the motions: shower, clothes, coffee, while Sylas bounces around with way more energy than should be legal.
"You only have lab today," he reminds me as we gather our things. "Three hours, and then I'll meet you out front, and we can come right back here if you want."
"I know," while trying to summon some of his energy. "Let's just get it over with."
The walk to campus feels awful. Every step closer increases my anxiety. What if I run into Tyler? What if people point and whisper? What if—
"Stop spiralling," Sylas says, reading my thoughts. "We have a game plan, remember? In and out. No social interactions required."
Nodding, I'm thankful he's here with me. We make it to the Health Sciences Building without anything bad happening, and for a second, I think maybe this won't be so awful after all. Maybe Sylas is right, and people have already found some new drama to gossip about.
"I'll meet you back here at noon," Sylas says as we reach the point where we have to part ways. His lecture is on the second floor of the neighbouring building, and I'm on the main floor here.
"See you then," I agree, squaring my shoulders before heading down the stairs.
Thank goodness the nursing lab is normal. Professor Kilkarney doesn't mention that I missed classes or treat me differently, which I appreciate. For three hours, I focused on practice assessments and reviewing procedures. It's only when class finishes that everything else comes flooding back.
As I head to the locker room to change out of my scrubs, I'm consciously avoiding looking at the locker where I found those damning photos. The space is mostly empty, just a few classmates gathering their things, none of whom approach me. Small blessings.
While I'm changing back into my street clothes, the door swings open, and Ryan walks in.
My stomach drops. It's been a while since I've seen him up close. He looks good, somehow different from the way he was whenever he was in public around me.
"Ethan," he says, his voice softening as he approaches. "I was hoping I'd catch you here."
"Ryan," I barely acknowledge him as I continue to pack my bag. "What are you doing in the nursing building?" With a quick glance around, I realize the change room is empty except for us.
"Looking for you," he admits easily. "I texted, but you didn't respond."
"I've been busy."
He nods, leaning against the lockers next to mine. "I heard. The whole campus is talking about what happened with that frat guy."
The flinch happens before conscious thought, my body's automatic defence against discussing Tyler, especially with Ryan of all people."I don't want to talk about it."
"Of course," he says quickly. "I just... I wanted to check on you. Make sure you're okay."
There's something in his tone, a concern that seems genuine, that catches me off guard. I pause, looking up at him properly.
"Why do you care?" I ask, not unkindly, just confused. "We haven't spoken in weeks."