Chapter 4

Ethan didn’t answer for a full second.

Then his breathing went uneven. “What… what did you say?”

“The watch,” I said, like it was obvious. “The one in the shoebox. Under the wrapping paper. I also put a handwritten letter in there.”

His voice jumped an octave. “Claire, are you serious? You put a watch in there?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You—” He stuttered, then rushed the next words. “Are you joking? Where did you get the money? Claire, what the hell?”

“My year-end bonus,” I said. “It came in two days ago. I bought it as soon as I got paid.”

There was a sharp inhale on the other end, like he’d swallowed wrong.

I kept going, soft on purpose. “Honestly, if I’d known you didn’t like the shoes, I would’ve just gotten you the watch and skipped the sneakers.”

He went quiet again, but this time it wasn’t blank. It was calculation. I could hear it in the way he stopped breathing like a normal person.

“How much?” he asked, fast.

“Over twenty grand,” I said. “Pretty much my whole bonus.”

“What?” he snapped. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

My throat tightened. I made my voice small and a little hurt. “Because it was supposed to be a surprise. That was the point.”

He sounded angry, like my surprise was an inconvenience. “Claire, you don’t understand—”

“Fine,” I cut in, still gentle. “It’s in your hands already. Just open the box and take it out. Put it on.”

I heard a loud bang, like his palm hitting a table.

Then a woman’s voice, close to his mic, sharp and annoyed. “Why are you slamming things? What’s wrong with you?”

My stomach turned cold.

Ethan lowered his voice, but not enough. “If you weren’t rushing me for that stupid birthday trip, I wouldn’t have sold the shoes. Now I’m gonna lose a fortune.”

Another pause, then her voice again, irritated. “I told you to wait. You’re the one who insisted on selling it fast.”

Ethan made a small choking sound, like he realized he’d said too much.

I didn’t react. Not out loud.

I pretended I hadn’t heard any of it.

“Ethan?” I said, light but concerned. “Hello? I can’t hear you. Are you in a weird spot?”

“Yeah—yeah,” he said too quickly. “Signal’s bad.”

“Okay,” I said, and let a little panic into my voice, just enough to sound real. “Did you… did you lose it? Did you misplace the watch?”

“I didn’t—” He swallowed. “I haven’t looked yet.”

My grip on the phone tightened. I kept my voice urgent. “Then go look. Right now.”

“Claire—”

“No,” I said, sharper. “Go. If you lose something like that, you’re done. That’s really expensive.”

His breathing got heavier. I could picture him standing up too fast, scanning the room.

“Okay,” he said, hoarse. “Okay. I’m going.”

“Open the shoebox,” I said. “It’s under the wrapping paper, taped to the bottom. I didn’t want it rattling around.”

“I—” He sounded like he was already moving. “Okay.”

To make it worse—just enough—I sent a photo message while we were still on the call. A clean image of a boutique receipt I’d saved from the watch purchase, the model name printed near the top.

I watched the little “Sent” checkmark appear, then heard Ethan suck in a breath like he’d been punched.

"Look, everything is complete. Even second-hand items would be worth a lot of money."

His breathing was the only sound on the line.

Then, after a long stretch of silence, he said, rough and fast, “I have something to handle. I’ll call you back.”

Before I could answer, the call ended.

I stared at my screen for half a second, then looked up at Maya.

Her face had gone pale. “Was that… a girl?”

I nodded once.

Maya’s mouth twisted. “He’s disgusting.”

I didn’t respond. My hands were cold, but my head was clear.

Because the next thing happened exactly the way it always does—my phone buzzed.

Then buzzed again.

Then again—like a machine gun.

eBay Messages.The seller thread exploded.

> Have you opened the box yet? Haven't you put it on yet?Please. Don’t do anything.

> I’ll buy it back. Okay? Just send it back.

> I’ll pay more—name your price.

I watched the messages stack up so fast the screen couldn’t keep up.

Maya leaned over my shoulder and let out a hard laugh, more angry than amused. “Look at him. Now he remembers how to beg.”

I stared at Ethan’s frantic texts until my eyes stopped seeing words.

He’d called me his ex to sell my gift.

Now he was asking me, politely, desperately, to give it back.

“Okay,” I said, quiet. “Now it starts.”