Pet him
Six years ago, the night I… well, let’s just say I took advantage of Ethan Miller. It rained as hard as he cried that night. I left around 4 AM, my body numb. I stumbled home, cursing myself, and spent the next few days recovering before blocking him on everything.
Six years later, he waltzes back into my life as my new boss. His first order of business? Firing
- me.
“He fired me! Can you believe it? Total payback!” I raged to my best friend, Olivia.
“What the hell did you do to my brother to make him hate you this much?”
“I… did….. him…” I mumbled, regretting
everything.
“Oh, come on, it’s ancient history. Just smooth
<
things over with him. He’s a softie at heart.”
Yeah, Olivia clearly didn’t get what I meant.
The first day of unemployment, I wallowed. My boyfriend, Josh, heard about the firing from my mom and rushed over with a peace offering. urging me to apologize.
“Amy, you know my uncle pulled strings to get you that job. Getting fired makes me look bad.”
I felt a pang of guilt. My mom called too, suggesting she talk to Ethan’s mom. “We were neighbors, after all. Even if they’re loaded now, we go way back.”
Between Josh and my mom, I felt like a criminal for not wanting to grovel. So, I went to Ethan’s house.
Olivia opened the door. The first thing I saw were the paintings on the wall. Olivia had
mentioned they were worth… millions. I thought
about the cross–stitch hanging in my living
room that cost a hundred bucks and my mom
still complained about it. The chasm between
our lives suddenly felt vast.
We’d grown up together. Ethan and Olivia lived
with their grandparents, right next door to us. Their mom would visit every summer. We were
inseparable as kids. Olivia and I stayed close
even after college.
Ethan, though, never liked me. He sabotaged
every attempt I made at dating in high school,
resulting in epic groundings from my parents.
Fed up, I finally got my revenge during
freshman year winter break. I “taught him a
lesson.”
“See? Dating is bad for you. I’m doing this for
your own good,” I’d said as he sobbed,
clutching the blanket.
“Now you’re commun Ton loto ” He arind in hin
>
“Now you’re sorry? Too late.” He cried in his
tiny bedroom all night.
I swear, I’d planned to give him a proper
scolding, but things escalated. He was the most
beautiful boy I’d ever seen. I got carried away.
Maybe I’d been too rough; I didn’t see him
again after that.
Until the company welcome party for the new
- VP. I recognized him when he walked by, but he didn’t seem to notice me. I was relieved, until
he fired me. He held a grudge.
At his house, his mom fussed over the gift
basket I’d brought. “You shouldn’t have! It’s like
you’re a stranger.”
“It’s been a while, Aunt Carol. I got these for
your parents.”
Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen his
grandparents since they moved.
“So thoughtful! They’re on vacation. I’ll tell them
you came; they’ll be thrilled. It’s been ages!”
“Where’s your brother? Go tell him Amy’s here!
You two have so much to catch up on!”
“They’ve met. Ethan already fired her,
remember?” Olivia blurted out.
The air thickened. Aunt Carol looked from Olivia
to me, sensing my purpose. “He’s being
ridiculous. Go get him. I’ll set him straight.”
“It’s my fault, Aunt Carol. I messed up a
report…” I stammered, embarrassed by her
defense.
“You know you messed up, so why are you here?” Ethan’s voice cut through the room.
He descended the stairs, casual, hands in his pockets. He glanced at me before lounging on
the sofa.
“Don’t be rude, Ethan,” Aunt Carol scolded, but
I still felt awful.
Begging sucks.
“We don’t keep dead weight,” he said, his eyes cold.
“That’s harsh! It was just one report,” Olivia protested.
He smirked. “Coming from the girl who spends her days shopping, what do you know about work?”
“You…..” Olivia flushed, appealing to their mom. “Mom! Look at him!”
“Behave yourselves,” Aunt Carol said, taking my hand.
I stood there, mortified, the cause of this family drama. I shouldn’t have come. I’d rather
dumpster dive than spend another minute here.
“Aunt Carol, I just came to see you. I, uh, have to go. Something came up.” I forced a smile, trying to salvage some dignity.
“Take your basket. My parents can’t eat sweets
anymore,” Ethan said, his voice glacial.
Closing the door behind me, I realized he’d
changed. He was a stranger.
I caught a torrential downpour on the way home and ended up sick for three days. When I finally resurfaced, my phone was blowing up. My former colleagues informed me the company
was suing me for damages. I wouldn’t be
getting my last paycheck; I owed them $2,000.
“People make mistakes. Usually, it’s just a
warning. You really landed in the new guy’s
crosshairs,” a colleague sympathized.
–
“He seemed so nice, always smiling. Someone
fainted the other day, and he gave them time.
off and sent his assistant to check on them.”
“Yeah, his assistant spilled coffee on him, and
he just laughed it off.”
“Why is he so different with you?”
I stayed silent in the group chat. It hit me then.
He wasn’t cold–hearted; he just hated me.
Losing my paycheck was one thing; I didn’t
have $2,000. Josh managed all our money.
We’d met on a blind date last year. He was
—
older, stable perfect husband material,
according to my mom. He’d insisted on
controlling our finances early on, claiming I was
irresponsible.
I dreaded facing him, let alone telling him about
the lawsuit. After a sleepless night, I asked
Olivia for Ethan’s WeChat, which was now
<
WhatsApp since we were in America. He didn’t
accept my request.
I resorted to staking out his building. Hours
later, I spotted his Bentley. I ran to intercept
him. He rolled down the window, revealing a
glamorous woman in the passenger seat.
So, that’s his type. This was awkward. I looked away. “Can you come out? I need to talk to
you.”
“Just say it,” he said coldly.
He wanted me to beg, in front of his… date?
I clenched my fists. “Ethan, I don’t have the
money. Can you talk to HR? Please? For old
times‘ sake?”
“Old times‘ sake?” He raised an eyebrow, a
smirk playing on his lips. “What old times‘
sake?”
<
He was right. We had no “old times.” He’d
never liked me. The only thing remotely close to
a shared history was that one night. But Olivia
said he’d had countless girlfriends since. He’d
probably forgotten all about it.
I sighed.
“Three years at the company, and you can’t
come up with two grand?” He laughed, the
sound laced with mockery.
The unfairness stung. He’d returned from his
fancy education, making a fortune, while I
barely scraped by. I was glad I’d blocked him.
This disparity was humiliating.
“My boyfriend… manages my money,” I
confessed, defeated.
His expression darkened. “Honey, get out.”
The woman opened the door, hesitant.
