Wish

It was the third year of my secret relationship with Ethan Miller, and he still refused to go public. At a party, someone teased him, “Ethan, Ashley’s gorgeous. Haven’t you ever fallen for her after all this time?” I watched him clinking glasses with someone else, a flicker f hope in my chest. He leaned back, nonchalant.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Ashley and I are just friends.” My heart sank. “Yeah,” I said, the words flat. “We’re just friends.”

The air thickened. Someone jumped in to smooth things over. “Well, that’s good news! My buddy has a huge crush on Ashley.” He turned to me. “Ashley, want me to give you his number?”

Before I could respond, Ethan set down his drink and came up behind me, his arm draped casually over my shoulder. He gave the guy a look. “Back off. She’s my friend. And a good one, at that. Keep your sleazy friends away from her.”

I shrugged off Ethan’s arm. “Actually, give me his number. I’m always open to meeting new people.” The friend quickly handed me his business card, and I added him on my phone. Looking up, I caught Ethan’s eyes, a strange mix of amusement and something else I couldn’t quite place. A dull ache spread through my chest.

I started to leave, but Ethan stopped me, pulling out his phone. “Ashley, smile for the camera.”