Chapter 2

I'd spent a restless night on Ethan's couch, replaying last night's confrontation with Madison. Her smug face, her calculated cruelty, the way she'd waltzed into Ethan's apartment like she owned it—and him.

The morning sun sliced through the blinds when I heard her voice from the direction of the bedroom.

"Good morning, darling!" she announced, balancing a Starbucks tray and ninety-nine red roses. "I brought your favorite blueberry muffins. I figured you might need some comfort food after... last night's stress."

Her eyes found mine immediately, sparkling with malicious satisfaction. Last night's verbal sparring had apparently only whetted her appetite.

"I hope you slept well, Aria," she purred. "The couch looked so... cozy."

I watched from the couch as she rushed to Ethan, who stood stiffly by his kitchen counter. Madison was dressed in delicate workout clothes, acting overly excited, while Ethan clearly felt uncomfortable.

"Madison, you didn't need to—"

"Of course I did! After seeing how upset you were yesterday, I wanted to remind you of all the good things in your life." She immediately started fussing over him, straightening his collar. "That's what devoted girlfriends do, right?"

The emphasis on 'devoted' while looking directly at me made her message crystal clear.

"And I made reservations at Le Bernardin for tonight." She turned to me with a sharp smile. "Sorry, Aria. Couples only. Some places have... standards."

Ethan's jaw clenched, but instead of responding, he quietly poured me fresh coffee, adding cream the way I liked it when we were kids.

Madison's smile grew wider, but her eyes turned cold.

"Ethan's so thoughtful," she purred, pressing against his back and feeding him a bite of the muffin. "He takes care of everyone."

I watched Ethan endure this performance with the resignation of a man who'd given up fighting. The humiliation in his eyes was almost enough to make me feel sorry for him.

Almost.

"I should get ready for tonight," Madison announced. "Some of us know how to treat a man right."

She kissed Ethan aggressively, then left with obvious satisfaction.

The quiet that followed felt heavy and awkward.

"Jesus Christ," Ethan muttered, slumping against his counter. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"See what? Your loving girlfriend taking care of you?"

He rubbed his temples. "Aria, about the trial... about why I couldn't testify for you..."

"Couldn't? Or wouldn't?"

"The Crawford family made it clear what would happen if I stepped out of line." His voice cracked. "Not just to my career—they knew about my mom's medical debt. Madison's father offered to make it disappear if I stayed quiet."

"So you sold me out for money."

"No! They said if I fought them, they'd destroy any chance you had at appeal. They convinced me that cooperation was your only shot at a lighter sentence." He looked at me desperately. "I thought I was protecting you."

"A lighter sentence for a crime I didn't commit."

His face went white. "I know. That's why I'm with Madison now—to get close enough to find the real evidence."

I glanced at the photo of his mother on the side table—the same woman who'd made him pancakes every Sunday and treated me like her own daughter. "Your mother would have expected better from you."

"She made me promise," Ethan said, his voice breaking. "Right before she died. Made me swear I'd always take care of you."

The mention of his promise brought back a flood of memories. I could almost smell the musty books and hear the whispered conversations from years ago.

"I can't do this," I groaned, staring at the equations that looked like hieroglyphics. "I'm too stupid for math."

We were huddled in the corner of the school library, surrounded by the smell of old books and teenage desperation. I was on the verge of tears because failing algebra meant losing my partial scholarship.

"You're not stupid," Ethan said firmly. "You're the smartest person I know. You just think differently."

He scooted his chair closer, patiently walking me through each problem.

"See? You got it right. You just had to trust yourself."

When I looked up, he was staring at me with something that made my fifteen-year-old heart skip.

"You helped me pass," I said, forcing myself back to the present. "We both made honor roll that semester."

"Because you were brilliant. You just needed someone to believe in you."

His words triggered another memory, this one more painful.

"Ethan, come here," Mrs. Brooks called from the kitchen when she saw me at their dinner table again.

She pulled him aside, but I could still hear her gentle but firm voice.

"That girl has nobody else," Mrs. Brooks said quietly, glancing at me, then back at her son. "Aria's been through more hardship than most adults."

She placed her hands on Ethan's shoulders. "Son, you care about that girl, don't you? Then you need to understand something—a real man protects the people who matter to him."

"And then you sent me to prison."

Tears started rolling down his cheeks. "I had no choice. The evidence was overwhelming, and—"

"The evidence was fabricated."

"I know that now." He leaned forward, desperate. "Aria, I've spent five years investigating. I think I know how Madison did it—planted the accelerant residue, manipulated witnesses. But I need more time to build a solid case."

I studied his face. "Why should I believe you?"

"I need to make this right," he said, his voice shaking. "I owe you that much. I owe my mother that much."

His hand reached across the space between us, trembling.

"Let me fix this, Aria. Let me prove what really happened."

I looked down at his hand covering mine. Soft, unmarked by violence, but still the same hands that had held mine through countless study sessions.

"Okay," I said softly.

Hope flared in his eyes. "Really?"

"I forgive you, Ethan. And I..." I let my voice catch. "I want to believe you're trying to do the right thing now."

He hug me then, desperate and full of five years' worth of regret. When we broke apart, he was crying.

"I'll leave her," he whispered. "I'll break up with Madison tonight and—"

"No." I pressed my fingers to his lips. "Not yet. I need you to stay close to her. Gather evidence. Can you do that for me?"

"But it's torture being with her when I—"

"Please, Ethan. For us. For our future."

He nodded reluctantly. "Anything for you."

I smiled, letting him see what he wanted to see—forgiveness, hope, maybe even love.

You stupid, pathetic fool. I watched him light up with desperate relief. You have no idea what's coming.

But first, I needed him to get me everything Madison had hidden. Every dirty secret, every piece of evidence.

And then I'd destroy them both.