The year I turned twenty, Ethan rescued me, helped me escape that nightmare town I called home.

To repay him, I spent three years cooking and cleaning for him, never complaining, doing whatever he asked.

But I knew, deep down, I had less than a year left.

I thought we’d live out my remaining days in quiet, simple happiness.

Until one night, he came home drunk from a work thing. I saw the texts from his ‘perfect girl’.

“Ethan, you must be wasted, probably made a mess. Why don’t you let me take care of you tonight?”

Ethan texted back: “Why would I let you handle that dirty work? I’ll just make the housekeeper at home deal with it.”

“Aww, you always know how to take care of me!” Chloe replied, adding a little heart emoji.

Reading that, my stomach twisted.

So, he loved someone else. All this time, I was just the live-in maid, someone he could summon or dismiss whenever he felt like it.

The dream was never mine. It was time to wake up.

1

Ethan was still dead asleep in bed, soft snores escaping his lips.

I scrolled through the contacts list until I found the one labeled “Goddess.” Her social media profile painted a picture of a girl living a charmed life.

She had the same long, dark, straight hair as me, the same delicate build, skin that looked flawless.

But in the pictures with Ethan, her big, doe eyes sparkled with a vulnerability I’d never managed. My own default expression was usually… gloomy.

It made me think about all the times Ethan had nudged me about my clothes, my style.

Maybe I was just her stand-in all along.

I’m a pretty traditional girl, maybe even a little old-fashioned. I never used to wear skirts above the knee.

But Ethan had practically begged, giving me those puppy-dog eyes, until I slowly gave in, trying out the black stockings and high heels he liked.

Standing in front of the mirror, I took off the lacy nightgown he’d bought me for Valentine’s Day. I put on a plain blue bathrobe instead.

I spent the night on the living room sofa, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

The next morning, when Ethan woke up, I was already putting a bowl of freshly made oatmeal on the coffee table.

As I set it down, I quickly touched my earlobes with my fingers, red from the heat of the bowl. Ethan wrapped his arms around me from behind.

He inhaled the scent of my hair, whispering softly in my ear, his breath warm. “My sweet, thoughtful Maya. You work so hard.”

“It’s what I do,” I replied flatly, gently pushing him away as I arranged the spoon.

He probably thought I was just being shy. Ethan shrugged.

Then his eyes fell on what I was wearing. He frowned. “Why’d you change your pajamas?”

I told him the other one was too revealing, I felt a little cold, so I picked something warmer.

I expected him to ask if I was okay, maybe show some concern.

Instead, a flicker of disappointment crossed his face. He used that coaxing tone he always used.

“I still like you better in that sexy little devil outfit. Please, wear it again tonight? For me?”

Without waiting for an answer, he went to brush his teeth, put on his suit, ready to leave.

“Aren’t you going to eat breakfast?” I asked, watching him polish his dress shoes.

Ethan clutched his stomach, shaking his head with a sigh.

“Nah, drank too much last night. Stomach’s still messed up. You eat it.” He grabbed his briefcase and walked out the door.

The sound of the front door clicking shut echoed in the sudden silence.

The oatmeal on the table was still steaming, but my heart felt ice-cold.

Because I knew exactly where Ethan was heading. Downstairs, by the entrance to the complex, smiling as Chloe handed him a coffee and a bagel.

It didn’t matter if Chloe made it herself or just bought it. If it came from her hands, it was the most delicious thing in the world to him.

Looks like another breakfast alone. I sat at the table, mechanically spooning oatmeal into my mouth. It tasted like cardboard.

Maybe fate was just trying to get me used to being alone ahead of time.

With her appearance, the countdown to leaving Ethan had officially begun.

2

Was I wasting my time, obsessing over every detail of this man’s life?

This was our third year together.

Twenty-three. For a girl, that’s supposed to be the prime of your life.

Most girls my age are either in college, maybe grad school, or starting their careers.

Me? I spent my days cleaning the apartment, washing Ethan’s clothes, even his socks.

Waiting for him to come home, I’d have a hot meal ready, then change into whatever pajamas he liked best and sit quietly on the bed, waiting.

Some might say I was pathetic, lowering myself like that. Not worth it.

But I did it because I owed him. A debt of gratitude.

Back when I ran away from home, I was lost, wandering aimlessly on a mountain road in the pouring rain.

The next thing I knew, I woke up in a strange city, a handsome face looking down at me with concern.

“You’ve got a high fever. Just lie still, we’re almost at the hospital.”

That was Ethan. He stayed with me at the hospital for two days and nights until I recovered.

He never asked why I was out there in a storm, or where I came from. Maybe it didn’t matter to him.

To him, I was probably just some poor runaway girl he happened to rescue.

But to me, Ethan was the first man who had ever been truly kind to me.

So, after that, we just… fell together. Naturally.

I gave myself to him willingly, tried everything to make him happy, even accepted his flaws and weird little habits.

On his birthday, I wore that maid outfit he’d been hinting about forever and gave him… everything. The most precious thing a girl has.

It wasn’t until last night that I realized how incredibly stupid I’d been.

Today, I didn’t clean. Instead, I went downtown, just to get some air. Besides grocery shopping and running errands, I hardly ever went out.

Sitting on a bench, I scrolled through my phone and, almost without thinking, searched for Ethan’s Instagram.

He probably figured I wasn’t savvy enough to check, so he hadn't blocked me or made it private.

Mostly work stuff, nothing too out of the ordinary. But then I noticed one account liked almost every single post.

I clicked on it. Of course, it was Chloe. And sprinkled through her feed were pictures of her and Ethan, acting like a couple.

In the park, on the subway, at the movies… even at a motel.

The one that hit hardest was taken in what looked like a cheap motel room, on one of those heart-shaped beds.

Chloe had her head buried in Ethan’s broad shoulder, and he was playing with strands of her hair.

The caption read: Ugh, stylist went rogue and chopped off way too much hair today! So annoyed! :(

Ethan’s comment below: I like it. When your hair grows long enough to touch your waist, will you marry me?

Chloe replied with a blushing emoji.

Nausea washed over me.

How many times had he done that same thing to my hair, whispering sweet nothings in my ear?

“I can’t wait to see you in a white wedding dress, your hair blowing in the wind in our photos.”

“Maya, you’re my angel. Just wait a little longer. As soon as I save up enough money, we’ll get married.”

I walked into a hair salon. A stylist, Tony, immediately started trying to sell me hair products.

“Hey there! Looking for color? Treatment?”

I didn’t answer. I just sat in the chair, staring at my own reflection – lost, broken. Then I spoke, my voice cold.

“Cut it short.”

I knew it now. The woman he pictured in that wedding dress definitely wasn’t me.

3

It was after nine when Ethan finally decided to come home.

I didn’t bother asking where he’d been. The answer was always the same: working late or a client dinner.

When he saw my hair, barely reaching my chin, he looked surprised. “Whoa, what happened here? My little homemaker decided on a new look?”

I ignored him, focusing on hanging the freshly washed clothes on the balcony rack.

He probably thought I was busy and didn’t hear him, not noticing the shift in my attitude.

He walked over, glanced at the clothes, and said, half-joking, “Seriously? What kind of style is that? So plain.”

Then he went into the bedroom. Soon, I heard the tap-tap-tap of his phone keys, punctuated by muffled laughter.

I knew it. I couldn’t even spark a flicker of interest in him anymore.

It was time to leave.

Better to die alone than keep getting hurt like this.

I finished hanging the clothes, washed the dishes piled in the sink, and dragged my exhausted body toward the bedroom.

As soon as I walked in, Ethan looked up, a sly grin on his face.

“Hey, come here. Let’s try this tonight.”

He eagerly held up a box. New lingerie, probably from one of those trashy shops.

I gave it a cold glance and shook my head.

“I’m too tired today. And besides… I don’t really like it.”

He’d asked me to wear embarrassing things before.

At first, I’d refused. Then he’d throw a tantrum, call me ungrateful. How he’d stayed up for two days taking care of me when I was sick, and now I couldn’t even do this one little thing for him. Then came the silent treatment.

Remembering how he’d helped me, I’d always cave first.

I’d force myself into those skimpy outfits, trying to please him, satisfy him.

They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Back then, Ethan was everything to me. I could overlook his weird kinks.

But now that I knew what I really was in his eyes, I wasn’t going to humiliate myself anymore.

My refusal this time didn’t deter him. He shoved his phone in my face.

It was a private photo of Chloe, wearing sexy lingerie – the exact same style he’d just shown me.

A disgusting thought crossed my mind: maybe the one he handed me was hers, already worn.

“Look how cool my colleague Chloe is! She wore it, even sent me pics, no big deal. See how open-minded she is?”

“You’re my woman! You need to have some awareness!”

When I still didn’t respond, just climbed into bed and turned my back, Ethan sighed dramatically.

“Ugh, girls from the sticks just don’t get it. No class.”

Seeing that pleading and bullying weren’t working this time, Ethan switched tactics. Reverse psychology.

He started praising Chloe right in front of me – how amazing she was, how understanding.

He was so bold now because he was convinced he had me completely under his thumb. That my old self would never, ever leave him.

But even after all his prodding, I didn’t give in. He didn’t seem too angry, just went back to texting Chloe.

After a minute, he nudged me with his foot.

“Hey, Maya. What’s your hometown like? Scenery-wise?”

“Holiday’s coming up. Chloe mentioned wanting to get out of the city, see some mountains and rivers, but doesn’t know where to go.”

Hearing the words “hometown” sent a chill down my spine, making the hairs on my arms stand up.

It wasn’t because he was so blatantly trying to provoke me. It was the flood of terrifying memories those words unleashed.

The villagers’ leering faces. My mother’s wild eyes. A nightmare I could never fully escape.

4

Seeing I still wasn’t talking, Ethan figured I was just sulking again.

Based on past experience, he assumed I’d be crying and begging for his forgiveness soon enough. Muttering “What a buzzkill,” he rolled over and went to sleep.

The next morning, Ethan left early without even saying goodbye. My heart felt completely frozen.

I started packing my things, ready to leave this place, find somewhere no one could ever find me.

This time, I was serious. It was really over.

I was about to delete our photos from his laptop when I noticed his Discord was still logged in.

A group chat named “The Wolf Pack” was flashing insistently.

Someone had uploaded a bunch of files. I clicked one at random. It was a video of me, wearing that revealing lingerie, trying to appease Ethan, just like he’d demanded.

“Damn, Ethan! Even got innocent little Maya wrapped around your finger.”

“Whoa! Didn’t know you had it in you, man. Such a player. How’d you PUA her? Share your secrets!”

As the group members started commenting on me, objectifying me, Ethan posted a smug emoji, then typed:

“That’s nothing. Maya and I had a good foundation. She was crazy in love with me, would do anything I wanted.”

Everyone in the chat was envious. Then someone typed: “Maya’s got the body and face, sure, but still not quite on Chloe’s level.”

Others chimed in: “Yeah, Ethan, when are you gonna share some real action with Chloe for the bros?”

But when faced with this request about Chloe, Ethan instantly became protective, like a dog guarding its food.

“Dream on. Chloe’s my goddess. Her divine beauty isn’t for peasants like you to even gaze upon.”

The ‘wolf pack’ responded with eye-roll emojis, calling him selfish.

Someone immediately challenged him: “But Maya’s your actual girlfriend, right? How come you can just share her private videos with us?”

Ethan replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world: “Maya? Girlfriend? LMAO, she’s just a toy. Don’t compare her to my pure goddess, Chloe.”

“To me, she’s just a maid who cleans and cooks during the day, and a doll that moves and makes noise at night.”

“If any of you guys are interested, maybe one day I’ll slip her something extra, and then you can… hehehe…”

The rest of the chat was too disgusting to read. Ethan clearly reveled in being the center of their sleazy attention.

I closed the laptop, my whole body shaking violently.

Tears streamed down my face, splashing onto the floor like raindrops.

I buried my head between my knees, replaying everything that had happened since Chloe appeared.

My initial disappointment and heartache had curdled into pure disgust and fury.

So, all my love and devotion had been wasted on a scumbag.

My gratitude, my tolerance – he’d twisted them into excuses to trample all over my dignity.

In his mind, Chloe was the angel, and I was the witch. Completely incomparable.

I might have come from a dark place, but I never wanted to hurt anyone.

I was even willing to give up my own life to hold onto that last shred of decency.

Thinking this, I finally dialed the number I hadn’t called in years.

The call connected. A familiar voice answered.

“Yeah? Who is it?”

“Mom,” I said, my voice flat, devoid of any emotion. “I’m coming home.”

“Hmph. Finally snapped out of it? Or are you just scared now that you know you only have a year left?”

“That doesn’t matter,” I cut her off. “This time, I’m bringing a man back with me.”

A chilling laugh echoed from the other end of the line. My own eyes turned cold as ice.