Part 3Crisis of trust

Both Ethan and Hailey stared at the scene, stunned.

Ethan recovered first. He pulled me away from the guy. "This is your 'friend'?" he asked, his voice laced with displeasure, his brows furrowed so deep you could lose a coin in them.

"That's right," the guy said, cheerfully extending his hand to Ethan. "I'm Amelia's bestie, Leo." He shook Ethan's hand, then casually put his suitcase in the trunk and hopped into the back seat. "Come on, Amelia!" he called, waving me over.

I started to get in, but Ethan stopped me. "Honey," he said, his voice low and tight, "it's not appropriate for you to be sitting so close to another man." I could almost hear his teeth grinding.

"We're just besties," I said, confused. I glanced at Hailey, still firmly planted in the passenger seat.

Ethan was speechless.

...

Leo and I chatted the entire way home, which made the front of the car feel unusually quiet.

It wasn't that Hailey wasn't talking. She was usually a chatterbox, always filling the car with stories from their childhood, the latest neighborhood gossip, a constant stream of inside jokes that I could never be a part of.

But today, no matter what she tried to talk about, Ethan's responses were short and clipped.

The thirty-minute drive was over in fifteen.

After dropping them both off, Ethan opened the passenger door for me. "You can sit up front now."

I just looked at him, then settled back into my seat. "I'm fine back here," I said coolly. "I'm tired. Let's just go home."

I closed my eyes.

The sound of the car door slamming was much louder than usual.