Those words had never been meant for me.
Tara’s voice drifted again, laced with contempt:
“Ethan is so clever! Look at Nicole, completely out of shape. Tsk tsk, I don’t want to become a shrew like her.”
I couldn’t listen anymore and turned to leave.
Suddenly, a huge wave hit, and the cruise ship rocked violently.
Tara, standing on the edge, was flung backward.
Without hesitation, Ethan grabbed the lifebuoy and jumped in, swimming toward her.
I was completely stunned.
He was clearly a landlubber.
He had always said he was most afraid of water!
And yet, he had risked his life for her.
I turned away, unwilling to witness the heroic rescue again, and headed straight to the hospital for an abortion.
The anesthetic coursed through me, and as my consciousness blurred, one thought consumed me:
Ethan, you can get out now.
When I opened my eyes again,
Only Henry, eyes red-rimmed, stood by the bed.
I instinctively touched my belly—it was flat.
A long-lost sense of relief washed over me.
I turned my head, voice hoarse: "Where’s Ethan?"
Henry turned and handed me a video.
The screen trembled. On the beach, Tara cried as she administered artificial respiration to Ethan.