“What is this?” I asked, my voice laced with disbelief. I turned to Jason, who shrugged in response. “What is this, Jennifer? Did Ethan use his AI to hack Jason’s TV or something?” I muttered, unwilling to believe what the reporter was saying. Ethan couldn’t have done something so foolish, just because of what I said.
“Are you serious, Emily?” Jennifer’s voice was filled with frustration. “Ethan turned himself in for you!” she yelled, and I shook my head, my heart racing as tears welled up in my eyes.
“That’s a lie! He’s lying!” I protested, wiping away the tears. “He’s deceiving you, Jennifer. He’s done it to me before. He once told me he’d let Wayne kill him if I wanted, but he was lying!” I said, finding it impossible to believe what was happening.
“He’s not lying, My father is at the station right now, trying to convince him to stop. Only you can stop him!” Jennifer’s words blurred in my mind.
“I won’t do it. Leave me alone!” I yelled, hanging up the call. As soon as the line disconnected, I turned to Jason, who stood in the corner, shocked and speechless.
“I need to go,” I said, grabbing my bag and rushing out before he could respond. I wasn’t sure where I was headed, but before I knew it, I found myself in front of one of Ethan’s houses, knocking frantically.
One of the security guards opened the door, giving me a puzzled look. “What do you want, ma’am?” he asked.
“Is your boss home?” I asked, desperate for answers.
The guard shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
“Do you know where he is? I’m his friend. I really need to see him,” I explained.
“I know who you are, ma’am, but Mr. Marcel isn’t home,” the guard replied, his tone cautious.
Frustrated, I walked away, dialing Ethan’s number. It rang several times, but there was no answer.
When I got back home, I turned on the TV again, hoping that what I saw earlier wasn’t true, but the headlines were still there. “There’s no way this is real,” I kept repeating to myself.
Drowning my sorrows in alcohol, until I eventually passed out. The next morning, I woke up to several missed calls, including one from my father.
“Hello, Dad,” I said, calling him back.
“Hey, sweetheart. Are you okay?” he asked, his concern evident.
“I’m fine, Daddy,” I said, pressing a hand to my head as the hangover made my head pound.
“Are you sure?” my father asked again, his voice laced with worry.
“Yes, why are you asking?” I wondered, momentarily forgetting my conversation with Jennifer.
“I know you loved him,” my father said, and my heart sank as I remembered everything.
“You saw it too?” I asked, shocked that he had seen the news. There was no way Ethan would involve my father in his lies.
“Yes, sweetheart. Did you know he was capable of this?” he asked, but I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me.
“He’s not like that, Daddy. He’s not a criminal. He’s a good man,” I found myself defending Ethan, despite everything. Regret started to wash over me.
“I don’t know, Emily. No one would turn themselves in unless there was some truth to it,” my father said. Tears streamed down my face again.
“Daddy, can I call you back?” I asked, hanging up before he could respond.
I called my driver and asked him to take me to the police station. There, I found Jennifer’s father, Mr. Maxwell Coltmen, waiting. As soon as he saw me, his gaze burned with anger.
“You!” he shouted. “Are you happy now?”
I shook my head, tears falling once more. “I didn’t think he’d actually go through with it,” I cried, but Maxwell wasn’t listening.
“What do you want now? Are you here to make sure he did it?” he asked, his voice full of contempt.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Coltmen,” I whispered, my voice trembling. I was furious with both Ethan and myself. How could he do this? And how could I have pushed him to?
“I want to talk him out of it. Can I please see him?” I pleaded. Mr. Coltmen hesitated for a moment before nodding, guiding me to the visiting area.
There, I found Ethan sitting on a bench in an orange jumpsuit. Even in that ridiculous outfit, he still looked good.
“Are you insane? Are you a child? How could you do something so reckless?” I snapped at him, my anger spilling over.
“You asked me to,” Ethan said casually, and I wanted to punch him.
“If I asked you to stick your hand in a fire, would you do it?” I asked sarcastically, forgetting for a moment that I was talking to someone who was insane.
“Yes,” he whispered, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Seeing him there, so unbothered, broke my heart.
“If this is what it takes to get your attention, I’d do it,” Ethan said, his words piercing through me.
“Do you understand that if they prove you guilty, you could face life in prison, or worse?” I said, trying to knock some sense into him.
“I’d die loving you,” he replied, almost too casually.
“You’re mad!” I yelled, looking around the hall where dangerous-looking criminals passed by. I couldn’t believe this was happening.
“Is this even real?” I whispered, still struggling to grasp the situation.