Chapter 2 - THE MORNING AFTER
I woke up to the sound of birds,
not the screaming of a hairdryer from Savannah’s room.
The bed was small,
but the sheets were clean and smelled of cedar and rain.
I sat up,
realizing I was in Ethan’s apartment,
far away from the Whitaker estate.
The sunlight I had praised the night before was streaming in,
painting patterns on the white walls.
I walked into the kitchen,
finding a note on the table.
Out for coffee and bread. Back in ten. — E.
His handwriting was bold,
precise,
and elegant.
I sat down,
resting my chin in my hands,
thinking about the chaos I had left behind.
By now,
Savannah and Preston would be waking up in a five-star suite.
My father would be checking the stock market,
unbothered by my absence.
Elaine would be calling the newspapers to ensure the photos were perfect.
I felt a strange sense of mourning,
not for them,
but for the girl who had tried so hard to be loved by them.
The door clicked open,
and Ethan walked in.
He was wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans today.
He looked even more imposing without the suit.
"Good morning,"
he said,
placing a brown paper bag on the counter.
"Morning,"
I replied,
noticing the way his eyes lingered on my messy hair.
He handed me a cup of coffee,
the heat warming my palms instantly.
"I checked the news,"
he said,
his voice neutral.
"Your sister’s wedding is the talk of the town."
"And mine?"
I asked,
bracing myself for the answer.
"The headlines call it 'The Whitaker Scandal,'"
he admitted,
pulling a chair out to sit across from me.
"They're making fun of the bicycle."
I took a sip of the coffee,
which was surprisingly high quality.
"Let them,"
I said,
squaring my shoulders.
"They can't hurt me if I'm not there to hear them."
Ethan watched me for a long moment,
his gaze intense and unblinking.
"You're stronger than they think you are,
Madison,"
he said quietly.
"I've had to be,"
I replied.
"Otherwise,
I wouldn't have survived that house."
He reached across the table,
his hand hovering near mine before he pulled back.
"I have to go to work for a few hours,"
he informed me.
"Will you be okay here?"
"Of course,"
I said.
"I have a lot of thinking to do."
"There's a laptop on the desk if you need it,"
he pointed out.
"The password is the date we met."
I blinked,
surprised he remembered the exact day.
"That was three months ago,"
I noted.
"June 14th,"
he said,
standing up.
"I don't forget important dates."
He left shortly after,
leaving me alone in the sunlit apartment.
I spent the morning cleaning,
organizing the small space,
and breathing in the silence.
Around noon,
my phone began to vibrate incessantly.
It was Savannah.
I hesitated,
then answered.
"Maddie!"
she shrieked,
her voice dripping with mock pity.
"I just saw the photos of you on that bike!"
"Preston and I are laughing so hard we can't even eat our brunch."
"I'm glad your happiness depends on my misery,
Savannah,"
I said coldly.
"Oh,
don't be like that,"
she giggled.
"Daddy is furious,
though."
"He says if Ethan can't afford a car,
he shouldn't have been allowed to marry a Whitaker."
"Tell Daddy that Ethan didn't marry a Whitaker,"
I countered.
"He married me."
I hung up before she could respond,
feeling a surge of power I had never felt before.
I looked at the bicycle in the hallway.
May you like
It wasn't a sign of poverty.
It was a vehicle of escape.
