When the call connected, he didn’t even wait for a hello. “What the hell did you do with my car last night? My wife’s upset, thinking I—”
There was a pause, but the person on the other end caught on quickly.
“Claire, I’m so sorry,” the voice on the phone stammered. “It’s my fault. I got hammered last night and puked all over the place. I had to borrow Ethan’s car to get my girlfriend home. I’m really sorry for the misunderstanding!”
Ethan ended the call and looked at me with cautious, pleading eyes.
I curled my lips into a faint sneer, my stomach churning with a mix of disgust and pity. So, everyone around us knew. They all knew Ethan couldn’t keep it in his pants, and yet they’d been helping him cover it up this whole time.
I forced a small smile. “Oh, I know you wouldn’t do something like that. I was just curious. Why are you so nervous?”
Ethan let out a huge sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing. “Claire, it’s because I care about you so much. I can’t stand the thought of you doubting me. If you’re upset, I’d lose my mind.”
I nodded, pretending to accept his explanation. Now wasn’t the time to confront him, not yet. If I tipped my hand too soon, I wouldn’t be able to leave.