“If you don’t like this birthday present, I’ll get you another one.”

Expressionless, I stared at Ethan.

“I don’t need it.”

Out of nowhere, Lily popped up, shoving the missing serum into my hands.

“It was just a freebie—what’s the big deal?”

Ethan stayed silent, making no move to stop her. Clearly, he thought I was overreacting too.

His friends frowned at me, siding with Lily.

I placed the skincare set back into Ethan’s hands.

“This has nothing to do with it.”

Lily grabbed me dramatically, covering her mouth with mock shock:

“Wait, sis-in-law, you’re not fighting with Ethan because of me, are you?”

Ryan Cooper swatted her on the head.

“Stop acting like such a tomboy. No way she’s jealous of you.”

Another girl might have laughed it off.

But I met Lily’s eyes and said firmly, word by word:

“Then stop doing it on purpose.”

“Even if you’re carefree, you should at least have boundaries. Respect yourself a little.”

From the moment Ethan introduced me to the group, this so-called “beloved little sister” had treated me with subtle hostility.

I could tolerate her crossing lines in private—because Ethan didn’t reject her.

But when she pushed it right in front of me, I wouldn’t stay silent.

Ethan frowned and cut me off:

“Emma! You don’t need to be so harsh—we’re all girls here.”

Eyes brimming with tears, Lily suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck and tiptoed to kiss him right in front of me.

Ethan froze in shock.

Then she bit his lip on purpose, spun to glare at me, and snapped:

“Now this is what crossing boundaries looks like!”

Finally realizing, Ethan pushed her away, his face darkening.

“Lily Evans!”

Lily looked at him pitifully, as though heartbroken:

“Your girlfriend smeared me. If I’m going to be accused unfairly, I might as well make it true.”

Her desperate act might have fooled someone who didn’t know better.

But all I wanted was for her to keep her distance.

Ethan grabbed my wrist, scowling:

“Apologize!”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“What did I do wrong?”

He looked at me deeply and said:

“Do you really want me to spell it out? You’re letting jealousy get the better of you. That’s why you’re lashing out at her.”

I was stunned, unable to argue back.

Before I could refuse, Lily lifted her chin, still teary-eyed but arrogant:

“I don’t want her apology. If she stays out of our hangouts from now on, that’s enough. Saves us the trouble.”

Her words made it clear: I was the problem, not her.

Sharp-minded, socially smooth Ethan—yet in this moment, he saw nothing. He only sighed and said helplessly:

“You’re so soft-hearted. You already forgave her but can’t admit it. Fine, fine. I promise I won’t bring her to our gatherings again.”

Lily pouted and punched his chest playfully:

“You’re my boy. I can’t let you stay single forever, can I?”

A heavy ache filled my chest.

With just a single sentence, Lily had banished me from Ethan’s circle.

Bitterness rose in my throat and blurred my eyes.

So, nothing in this world was truly permanent.

Ethan and I had grown up together in a foster home, depending only on each other.

After the SATs, the foster home suddenly shut down.

Knowing Ethan Carter had big ambitions, I chose to drop out to support him through college.

In the summer, I worked long hours at a diner, pushing through heatstroke without taking a day off.

In the winter, I took on job after job washing heavy coats in icy water. Even when my hands cracked and oozed from frostbite, I just wore gloves and kept going.

Ethan, who had never cried before, broke down sobbing when he saw my frostbitten hands.

He swore he would do everything to give me a good life, that he would love me forever.

He said he would introduce me to all his friends, let the whole world know he had a kind and beautiful girlfriend.

To reassure me, Ethan changed his Facebook cover photo to a picture of us together, and he always wore my hair tie around his wrist.

But at some point, that hair tie disappeared.

One day over dinner, when I asked him about it, Ethan just said casually:

“Lily Evans said wearing your girlfriend’s hair tie looks too emo, so I took it off. You can keep it with you from now on.”

His Facebook cover photo had also changed without me noticing—now it was a group shot from a mountain hike with his friends.

Front and center, in a pink jacket, stood Lily.

When I asked him about it, Ethan shrugged:

“Everyone else updated theirs. I couldn’t be the odd one out.”

He always had an excuse.

I looked at Ethan, wanting to ask him what excuse he had this time—for letting Lily push me out of his social circle with just a word.

But when I saw him laughing and horsing around with her again, I suddenly lost the urge to ask.

It didn’t matter anymore.

From the moment Ethan first said he owed me, our relationship had never been equal.

My phone buzzed—it was my diner boss, demanding I come in for an extra shift.

Ethan just glanced at the message and looked away.

To ensure Ethan lived comfortably at school, I always worked two jobs every month.

Even when I was so tired I could barely lift a finger, I still felt motivated.

But now, exhaustion weighed heavier than ever. Before I realized it, I had already typed out my resignation.

The reply came quickly, filled with curses: “If you won’t work, plenty of people will! Who do you think you are, refusing an extra shift? You’ve got thirty minutes to come clear out your stuff.”

As I turned to leave, one of Ethan’s friends offered to walk me back.

But Ethan just waved dismissively:

“It’s her boss. He’s calling her in. You guys went out of your way to come hang out with me—I can’t just leave.”

Lily bumped his shoulder with a grin:

“You really know how to treat your friends. No wonder your dad likes you so much. Remember that time you got drunk and I—”

Her words were cut off when Ethan clapped a hand over her mouth.

With a sly look, Lily licked his palm.

Ethan’s face flushed crimson. He snatched his hand back, glancing quickly toward me. Seeing my back turned, as though I hadn’t noticed, he finally sighed with relief.

But I had seen everything—through the reflection in the glass.

By the time I reached the diner, my belongings had already been tossed out onto the ground.

The boss sneered at me:

“Get out of here. You’re an eyesore.”

He tossed me a small stack of bills, maybe two hundred dollars. But he still owed me at least five hundred.

Because I’d always been meek and agreeable, he clearly thought he could trample over me.

But to his surprise, I collapsed on the floor, clutching a customer who had just walked in, and cried hysterically.

I spilled everything—not just the unpaid wages, but also how the kitchen was stocked with spoiled meat and diseased poultry.