“You’re too kind, Ethan. You saved Jillian, and that’s a great debt. But you don’t have to sacrifice your whole life. While I feel sorry for what happened to her, I just can't get it. If it were me in her shoes, I’d rather die than use my ruined body to shame the man who saved me.” Dulce puckered, deliberately letting her chest press against him.
Ethan’s ears flushed bright red, that telltale sign that he was moved. “Silly girl. Not everyone is as noble as you.”
“If you want, I can stir up the videos. Make them go viral again. Then Jillian won’t have to break up with you. She’ll walk away on her own,” she suggested.
By then, I had gone numb. The thought that had haunted me finally surfaced in full. Was Ethan the one who’d circulated my video again after all these years?
Ethan was silent for a long moment before finally saying, “Let me think about it.”
The man who once pulled me out of the fire had just shoved me back in, and I felt no righteous fury at all. Only a hollow, stunned acceptance.
When it was Dulce’s turn to perform, Ethan jumped to his feet and cheered like a proud fan.
The couples behind us murmured with envy.
“See that? Her boyfriend’s really something.”