At the party, my buddies had me cornered.
“So, I heard you’ve been crushing on Ethan since you were little, even playing house and wanting to be the wife. You still carrying a torch for Ethan?”
All eyes snapped to me.
I glanced over to the corner, where Ethan was pouring himself another drink, seemingly oblivious.
“I got over him a long time ago. Besides, I’m getting married soon.”
I heard the distinct sound of glass shattering.
Ethan stared at his soaked shoes, his eyes red–rimmed, looking utterly lost.
I could’ve been Ethan’s wife six years ago.
But what Ethan didn’t know was that every missed chance was carefully orchestrated by me.
Because I woke up.
This whole world was a tragedy waiting to happen.
