Drowning While He Fed Her Strawberries - Chapter 6: Chapter 6
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The moment I landed in Germany, I swapped out my SIM card without a second thought.
My lab instructor and a few familiar seniors were already waiting for me.
The senior girl wasted no time—she playfully smacked the back of my head. "You little traitor! Ditching us for some guy?"
My already foggy brain short-circuited further. Before I could even protest, my legs gave out, and I slumped into her arms. Her startled yelp was the last thing I heard before everything went dark.
When I came to, I was in a hospital bed. The senior girl was getting an earful from the instructor, her face the picture of misery. The senior guy leaned over to explain, "The professor thinks she knocked you out cold."
I choked back a laugh—talk about an overreaction. "It was the car accident before my flight," I clarified. "Not her."
The senior girl shot me a look of pure gratitude. Guilt prickled at me, so I reassured them I was fine—just needed some rest before diving back into lab work.
After graduation, I'd almost joined the lab full-time. But Ethan had needed me, so I'd turned them down. I still remembered the instructor's disappointed frown—they didn't take to many students that way.
"This time, I'm staying," I announced. "You're stuck with me. Just don't kick me out when you get sick of me."
The instructor nodded, tactfully avoiding any mention of Ethan, and told the seniors to help me settle in. For the first time in ages, I slept soundly.
By the next morning, my concussion symptoms had faded enough for me to function. Scrolling through my phone, I found a message from Jane:
Emma, congrats on the fresh start! Ethan's trash—go find your happiness.
I replied with a simple Thanks!
A few former coworkers had also sent gossipy updates:
You won't believe this—Ethan's turned into a total nightmare. He screamed at that intern Sophie until she cried!
Oh, and guess who replaced you? Sophie! Not because she's competent—nepotism much? Every time they hand her a project, she's in tears within five minutes. Epic fail.
I left the messages on read and threw myself into the lab. It'd been so long since I'd done real research that I had to relearn half the protocols.
By day, I worked with my seniors; by night, they dragged me out to explore. We ate street food, shopped for clothes, and laughed like idiots. Life was good.
At one point, the senior girl even gave me a makeover—wolf-cut hair, edgy outfits, the works. She planted a kiss on my cheek and grinned. "If you weren't a baby freshman, I'd totally chase you. Wait till we get back—you'll have the newbies swooning."
I froze. Pretty? Ethan had always called me tomboyish, unrefined. The old hurt flared up before I shoved it down.
Just as we left the mall, my phone blew up with calls from a familiar number. I ignored it—until I spotted him at the entrance.
All my good mood evaporated.
"What are you doing here?" I snapped.
Ethan looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. "I'm taking you home."
The senior girl stepped between us, smirking. "Wow, the ex-boyfriend himself! Shouldn't you be babysitting Sophie? Or is Emma just your emotional dumpster now?"
I crossed my arms. "Your home, not mine. What, you miss having an audience while you flirt with her? Need me to clap from the sidelines? Didn't peg you for that kink."
He moved closer. "That's not—we were never like that. I told you—"
"Oh, your explanations?" I cut him off. "You mean all those times you called me unfeminine, petty, and high-maintenance? Yeah, real enlightening."
God, I wished I had a soda—I'd have chugged it just to spit it in his face.
"Let me spell it out," I said, voice icy. "As my ex, your job is to stay dead to me. I'm not your backup plan, your emotional chew toy. Whatever's going on with Sophie? Not my problem. But mark my words—one day, you'll toss her aside too."
I met his gaze head-on. "Tell me, Ethan—do I look like a doormat to you? How many times do you need to stomp on me before it sinks in?"
My lab instructor and a few familiar seniors were already waiting for me.
The senior girl wasted no time—she playfully smacked the back of my head. "You little traitor! Ditching us for some guy?"
My already foggy brain short-circuited further. Before I could even protest, my legs gave out, and I slumped into her arms. Her startled yelp was the last thing I heard before everything went dark.
When I came to, I was in a hospital bed. The senior girl was getting an earful from the instructor, her face the picture of misery. The senior guy leaned over to explain, "The professor thinks she knocked you out cold."
I choked back a laugh—talk about an overreaction. "It was the car accident before my flight," I clarified. "Not her."
The senior girl shot me a look of pure gratitude. Guilt prickled at me, so I reassured them I was fine—just needed some rest before diving back into lab work.
After graduation, I'd almost joined the lab full-time. But Ethan had needed me, so I'd turned them down. I still remembered the instructor's disappointed frown—they didn't take to many students that way.
"This time, I'm staying," I announced. "You're stuck with me. Just don't kick me out when you get sick of me."
The instructor nodded, tactfully avoiding any mention of Ethan, and told the seniors to help me settle in. For the first time in ages, I slept soundly.
By the next morning, my concussion symptoms had faded enough for me to function. Scrolling through my phone, I found a message from Jane:
Emma, congrats on the fresh start! Ethan's trash—go find your happiness.
I replied with a simple Thanks!
A few former coworkers had also sent gossipy updates:
You won't believe this—Ethan's turned into a total nightmare. He screamed at that intern Sophie until she cried!
Oh, and guess who replaced you? Sophie! Not because she's competent—nepotism much? Every time they hand her a project, she's in tears within five minutes. Epic fail.
I left the messages on read and threw myself into the lab. It'd been so long since I'd done real research that I had to relearn half the protocols.
By day, I worked with my seniors; by night, they dragged me out to explore. We ate street food, shopped for clothes, and laughed like idiots. Life was good.
At one point, the senior girl even gave me a makeover—wolf-cut hair, edgy outfits, the works. She planted a kiss on my cheek and grinned. "If you weren't a baby freshman, I'd totally chase you. Wait till we get back—you'll have the newbies swooning."
I froze. Pretty? Ethan had always called me tomboyish, unrefined. The old hurt flared up before I shoved it down.
Just as we left the mall, my phone blew up with calls from a familiar number. I ignored it—until I spotted him at the entrance.
All my good mood evaporated.
"What are you doing here?" I snapped.
Ethan looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. "I'm taking you home."
The senior girl stepped between us, smirking. "Wow, the ex-boyfriend himself! Shouldn't you be babysitting Sophie? Or is Emma just your emotional dumpster now?"
I crossed my arms. "Your home, not mine. What, you miss having an audience while you flirt with her? Need me to clap from the sidelines? Didn't peg you for that kink."
He moved closer. "That's not—we were never like that. I told you—"
"Oh, your explanations?" I cut him off. "You mean all those times you called me unfeminine, petty, and high-maintenance? Yeah, real enlightening."
God, I wished I had a soda—I'd have chugged it just to spit it in his face.
"Let me spell it out," I said, voice icy. "As my ex, your job is to stay dead to me. I'm not your backup plan, your emotional chew toy. Whatever's going on with Sophie? Not my problem. But mark my words—one day, you'll toss her aside too."
I met his gaze head-on. "Tell me, Ethan—do I look like a doormat to you? How many times do you need to stomp on me before it sinks in?"
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