The moment Lydia Dawson slid onto my boyfriend’s lap and looped one arm around his neck, the whole table cheered as if I were supposed to laugh with them. Ethan Cole leaned back in the booth, flushed from bourbon and attention, while Lydia held a gift box above his head and grinned at me like she had just won something. I had spent a year telling myself I was imagining the look in her eyes, but that night I finally stopped lying to myself.
Chapter 3
By noon, Ethan was waiting outside my dorm. He grabbed my wrist before I could step away and accused me of cheating on him. Liam removed his hand from my arm with controlled force.
Ethan swung at him, but Liam dodged, turned him, and pinned his arm behind his back long enough to stop the fight. When students began staring, Liam marched him around the corner of the building. Ethan sneered at him.
“Afraid people will know the perfect student body president stole somebody’s girlfriend?”
“I moved you because people always gossip about the woman when men behave badly,” Liam said. “And I didn’t steal anyone. You agreed to the breakup in front of a room full of witnesses.”
“We were mad.”
“I wasn’t,” I said.
Ethan stared at me as if those two words wounded him more than shouting could have. “Lydia is just my bro.”
“I don’t care what she is anymore.”
That was when Lydia appeared. She latched onto Ethan’s arm and told him not to beg, and his pride did the rest. He looked from her to me, his jaw tight.
“Fine,” he said. “There are plenty of women. Let’s see how long you two last.”
Longer than he expected.
News traveled fast on campus. My roommates admitted they had never understood why I tolerated Ethan and Lydia’s behavior. One of them said every woman who saw those two knew Lydia wanted him, and Ethan knew enough to enjoy the attention even if he did not want to name it.
Within weeks, Ethan had a new girlfriend. Lydia remained attached to his side, and the new girlfriend objected. Lydia mocked her, Ethan defended Lydia exactly as he had defended her against me, and the relationship ended on the soccer field after an argument became a public fight.
After that, women on campus became wary of Ethan’s “bro” arrangement. He complained that everyone was judgmental, never considering that the problem might be his refusal to set a boundary. Then, one Saturday night, Lydia arranged flowers and battery candles on the field in the shape of a heart.
Liam and I happened to be walking after dinner when a crowd formed. Lydia stood in the center and shouted, “Ethan, I’m tired of being your bro. I love you. I want to be your girlfriend.”
His friends cheered. For a moment Ethan hesitated, but then he noticed one of his ex-girlfriends nearby with another man, and he saw me holding Liam’s hand. Pride again made the decision for him.
“Yes,” he said.
The crowd clapped. His ex-girlfriend laughed and called out, “Congratulations. You two finally made it official.”
Liam squeezed my fingers and guided me away. “I know my boundaries,” he murmured near my ear.
I laughed. “You’re very pleased with yourself.”
“I’m pleased with us.”
By then I was, too.
Dating Liam felt nothing like dating Ethan. Liam did not make me compete for basic respect. He never used silence as punishment, never turned private disagreements into public contests, and never needed an audience to feel like a man.
He could be serious in public and shamelessly flirtatious in private, but even his teasing carried an attentiveness that made me feel safe. I had expected my feelings to grow slowly. They did not.
They deepened.
Near graduation, I accepted a full-time job with the company where I had interned. One evening Liam asked what I wanted after college, and I told him I wanted a decent salary, a promotion eventually, and maybe a house with a porch.
“And me?” he asked.
I turned to tease him and felt something cool slide onto my finger.
A diamond ring.
For once, Liam Grant looked nervous.
“After graduation,” he said, “will you marry me?”
I stared at him. “You planned a proposal and that’s the speech?”
“I had a longer one.”
“What happened to it?”
“You looked at me.”
I laughed so hard I had to wipe my eyes. Then I saw his hand trembling, and I stopped laughing.
“You’re sure?”
He became completely serious. “I have never been more sure of anything.”
“Yes,” I whispered. “I’ll marry you.”
Our university was already planning a group wedding for graduating couples, a sentimental tradition that year’s class had revived. Fifteen couples signed up, including us. The ceremony took place beneath white canopies on the lawn, with family, classmates, faculty, and more flowers than I had ever seen in one place.
When Liam slid the ring onto my finger, he did not glance around to see who was watching. His eyes stayed on mine. That mattered more than I knew how to explain.
A year later, we returned for our class reunion. Liam intercepted every glass of wine people tried to hand me until our friends demanded an explanation. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
“Anna’s pregnant.”
The room erupted. I laughed into his chest while people congratulated us. Across the room, I caught my old roommate’s eye.
Later she pulled me aside and said she had news about Ethan and Lydia.
I almost told her I didn’t care.
Then I listened.
