Chapter Four — The Fallout

The silence after the storm was worse than the fight itself.

Photo by Redd Francisco on Unsplash

Jenna hadn’t heard from Ethan. Not a word. Three days. She’d called. Texted. Even stopped by his place twice. Nothing. The lights were off. The door locked. He was gone. Zack, though — he stayed.

That first night, he didn’t say much. Just picked up the broken glass, muttered something about his knuckles, and kept moving. Jenna sat curled on the couch, arms wrapped around her legs, watching him like he might vanish too. Neither of them knew what to say.

By the second night, she started telling herself stories. Maybe Ethan just needed time. Perhaps they all did.

But the third morning didn’t wait for maybe.

Zack was at the gym when it came. Jenna was halfway through washing paint from her hands when her phone buzzed. The sender’s name froze her mid-motion.

ETHAN.

Her heart slammed into her ribs. She wiped her hands on a towel and opened the message with shaking fingers.

You should know what kind of man you’re defending.

Attached was a photo — grainy, clearly from years ago. But even through the blur, she recognized Zack. Younger, wilder. His arm was around someone she didn’t know. Behind them, the…