Milk used to be my favorite drink.
Back in school, my mom would always make sure I left the house with a bottle of it every morning.
But one day, when I got to class, Ethan was sitting on the desk in front of me.
He was already quite tall back then.
As he leaned down to look at me, his shadow completely engulfed me.
I heard someone sneer, followed by a voice saying, “Come on, Ethan, have some fun.”
Then he smiled at me, stretching out his hand.
I handed him the milk bottle.
The moment he twisted off the cap, the scent of milk hadn’t even reached my nose before the white liquid poured down over my head.
My nose, collarbone, neckline, the hem of my skirt—everywhere was soaked with that smell.
But while I was crying, everyone else was laughing.
“Hey, look at her. Who’s she trying to seduce?”
“I swear, Ethan, your twisted sense of humor…”
Suddenly, a thumb brushed against my cheek.
Ethan rested his chin on his hand, sitting in front of me.
He grabbed my chin, studying me for a long moment.
Then he scoffed.
“Ugly.”
That was why I’d hated milk ever since.
But more than anything, I hate Ethan the most.
When I knocked over my second glass of milk today, the person bringing it to me was practically on their knees.
“Miss… please, just drink it…”
I turned my head away and said I wouldn’t.
Finally, my gaze fell on the landline phone beside the sofa.
I crawled over and pressed the buttons.
This landline could only call one person’s phone.
But this time, the voice that answered wasn’t Ethan’s.
“Miss Quinn?”
Oh, it was his assistant—the one who was always driving him around.
“I need to speak with Ethan.”
”
