I placed the phone back as if nothing had happened, though the stabbing pain in my chest told me everything had changed.
That boy who once bought me breakfast, who faked being sick so we could quarantine together in the library during the pandemic—perhaps he had died long ago, and I was only realizing it now.
By the time Ethan came out of the shower, I was pretending to be asleep.
Ethan tiptoed into bed, careful not to wake me.
Later that night, I listened to his steady breathing, then slipped quietly out of bed.
In his briefcase, I found another phone. I didn’t know the password, but I carefully used his finger to unlock it with the fingerprint sensor.
When the screen lit up, my heartbeat quickened.
I locked myself in the bathroom and began scrolling. The more I saw, the more I realized I had loved a monster all these years.
The phone was full of filth—group chats of scantily clad women, explicit photos, and lewd banter with other men.
"This girl is hot."
"That’s nothing. I’ve seen wilder ones."
Ethan chimed in: "Hook me up!"
My stomach churned. So he had been unfaithful as early as graduate school.