I became my boyfriend’s first love

Chapter 1

I was Ethan Miller’s biggest fan.

Everyone thought I was head over heels for him, even willing to get plastic surgery to look like his first love, just to be a stand-in.

So he started acting recklessly, flirting with other girls and letting them insult me.

A friend advised him to tone it down, but Ethan just shrugged it off. “She loves me so much, she’d never leave.”

Later, he proposed, down on one knee, and I turned him down flat.

“It’s not right, it’s not like him.”

That man, the real him, would never propose to me.

Everyone knew that Ethan’s two relationships with me were both because he was hurting over Olivia Carter.

When Olivia rejected his confession, he turned to me.

When Olivia went abroad, he came back to me.

I was like an NPC in a novel, filling in the plot until the main character returned, and then I had to step aside.

Maybe my compliance gave him the courage to be reckless, or maybe Olivia’s departure spurred him on.

But Ethan, who had always been a one-woman man, started playing the field, with a new girl on his arm every other week.

Everyone thought he just saw me as a disposable placeholder.

But gradually, it seemed like Ethan was falling for me again.

I don’t know when it started, but he stopped seeing other girls, started cooking with me, watching movies.

During thunderstorms, he’d hold me close, cover my ears, and soothe me to sleep.

At parties, he’d hold my hand, talking about our future with a bunch of playboy rich kids.

“Me and Sarah, we’re gonna have a whole bunch of kids.”

We were so in love, everyone was jealous.

But what wasn’t meant to be, will never be.

Just when everyone thought he’d finally settled down, Olivia came back.

He dumped me, right in front of everyone, to go after his first love.

Chapter 2

I found out Olivia was back from our friends’ group chat.

It popped up while Ethan and I were at a party.

The moment the message appeared, his hand, which was just putting food on my plate, froze.

Someone, wanting to stir the pot, projected the group chat onto the TV.

That familiar face filled the screen again.

Olivia was thinner than three years ago, but still beautiful.

She had gone abroad to pursue her dreams, but soon got scammed out of everything.

Deep in debt, with her family facing hardship, she was left with nothing.

The video showed her surrounded by a noisy crowd, men leering at her like hungry wolves.

Olivia, dressed skimpily, was kneeling, pouring drinks, men occasionally touching her inappropriately, asking her price for the night.

Her eyes were red with tears, but she forced a smile, silently resisting their harassment.

Ethan looked away, his expression unreadable. “That’s ancient history, why bring it up?”

He seemed indifferent, and our friends praised him for being mature.

But I knew, while watching the video, his hand on my leg almost crushed my dress.

A man near her played with her hair. “Why did you dump Ethan Miller, a guy with a gold mine? Call him, act sweet, ask him to bail you out.”

I recognized him. It was Louis, a notorious playboy in town, known for treating women terribly.

People laughed, saying Ethan was over her, and Olivia had no chance now.

Maybe it hit a nerve because fresh tears welled up in her eyes. “He has a new life now. I won’t bother him.”

Tears streamed down her face. She looked so fragile. “If it wasn’t for this illness, I wouldn’t have made up an excuse to dump him and go abroad for treatment.”

“He’s such a good person, I couldn’t bear to hurt him. I’d rather he hated me.”

She looked at the camera, her eyes full of委屈and pity.

I gasped, looking down at the large bruise forming on my leg.

The man who had just asked her price rubbed her waist. “Don’t worry, your Ethan doesn’t want you, but we’ll take good care of you. We’ll make sure you’re comfortable.”

Olivia, usually so meek, slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me. Even if I can’t be with Ethan, I won’t be with anyone else.”

“I’m not selling myself. I want to live with dignity.”

The man, his pride hurt, yelled at her, calling her a hypocrite. “Once you’re in here, you do what I say. Let’s see if you still act so high and mighty.”

He grabbed her, and in the struggle, Olivia slapped him.

Enraged, he slapped her back, knocking her to the ground. He threw her against a coffee table, ignoring her struggles.

People in the group chat cheered him on, saying she deserved it for dumping Ethan. Someone even tagged Ethan, telling him to come rescue his damsel in distress.

He glanced at the notifications, feigning disinterest. “Who does she think she is? Bothering me with this.”

He drained his glass, pretending not to care, but I knew he was burning up inside.

The next second, he slammed his glass on the table, flipping it over in anger.

Glass shattered around me.

I instinctively flinched, but then I saw him grab his phone and storm out without looking back.

Less than ten minutes after Ethan left, new videos started popping up in the group chat.

Ethan running five red lights to save Olivia.

Ethan putting his jacket around Olivia.

Ethan getting into a fight for Olivia.

In the videos, Ethan, furious, beat up the men who had harassed Olivia.

Punch after punch. Screams of pain.

The last video showed a bruised Ethan holding Olivia tightly, like a precious treasure he’d almost lost.

Olivia leaned against him, her eyes full of adoration. “I was so scared. I thought I’d never see you again.”

“If you hadn’t come, I wouldn’t have wanted to live.”

Then, he posted a warning in the group chat: “Anyone who touches a hair on her head again will disappear from this earth.”

I closed my phone, the mocking laughter of the others ringing in my ears.

“See, no one can beat the first love.”

“I thought he’d changed. She just had to beckon, and he ran right back.”

He fought for the woman who’d broken his heart twice.

He left me there alone.

To face everyone’s ridicule.

I don’t know how I got home.

Ethan didn’t contact me all day.

That night, out of habit, I texted him, asking what he wanted for a late-night snack.

After I sent it, I realized how pointless it was.

I was debating whether to retract the message when a photo of them kissing popped up in the chat.

They were holding each other tight, kissing passionately. His ears were red; he was clearly smitten.

I was admiring the photographer’s skill when the picture was retracted.

I chuckled sadly. I’d seen this trick many times before.

I put my phone down and went back to cooking.

Hours later, as the clock ticked towards midnight, I took a picture of the food and posted it online.

The caption: “Another year, safe and sound.”

Scrolling through my sparse social media history, I realized it was the fourth year.

Soon, comments flooded in:

“See, a good wife is better than a first love. No matter how much he plays around, he always comes home.”

“Some people are so delusional, still playing the ‘main wife’ game. It’s the 21st century, not the concubine era.”

“He’s all lovey-dovey with his first love, and the wife’s still crying, thinking he loves her.”

Then, I got a friend request from Olivia.

Her pinned post was a picture of their backs, leaning against each other.

Our mutual friends were criticizing her for breaking us up.

Then Ethan posted the same picture, with the caption: “Found what I’d lost.”

Olivia posted a long essay about their on-again, off-again relationship, portraying herself as the devoted heroine waiting for her prince.

She completely ignored my relationship with Ethan.

She twisted our years together into my one-sided obsession.

She commented: “No matter how much others try to interfere, they can’t stop our love.”

Within two hours, countless social media accounts were praising their epic love story. Me? I was the scheming villain, the homewrecker. Olivia was the tragic first love who went abroad for treatment, only to return and rekindle her romance. They were the star-crossed lovers, and I was the wicked witch.

Ethan’s best friend privately messaged me, forwarding their posts: “Don’t be sad. I’m not trying to hurt you, just want you to be prepared.”

“He’s not worth it.”

The tale of the devoted hero and his returning first love had everyone hooked. They didn’t care that he cheated and she was the other woman.

My private TikTok account, where I documented my life, was suddenly discovered.

My inbox was flooded with hate messages.

Olivia’s young fans attacked me:

“If you’re ugly, stay out of sight. Can’t you see how much Ethan loves my goddess?”

“Get lost if you know what’s good for you. Don’t embarrass yourself.”

“It doesn’t matter how much you love him, the first love always wins. A fake is a fake, no matter how much surgery you get.”

Looking at the countdown timer on my phone, I knew it was time to leave.

I didn’t want to pretend anymore. I wanted to see the Grand Canyon for him.

The next day, I went shopping.

As I entered the mall, I saw them together, clinging to each other.

Overnight, Olivia had transformed. Radiant, decked out in expensive designer clothes, she looked like a proud peacock.

As if she wasn’t the one working in a nightclub yesterday.

My phone buzzed with notifications. Pictures of designer shopping bags filled the screen.

Her sweet voice came through the phone:

“Ethan’s taking me shopping. It’s so sad, you’ve been together so long, and he never took you shopping, never bought you gifts, right?”

“I’ll tell him to bring you some. I have too many, I can’t use them all. And I think his taste has gotten so bad since we broke up.”

“Maybe these bags will suit you better.”

A janitor accidentally bumped into her, and she started cursing loudly. A far cry from the sweet, innocent act she’d been putting on.

I noticed we did have something in common. From the side, if you didn’t look closely, we were almost identical.

Good.

Chapter 3

More messages popped up.

“I’m so sorry, Ethan didn’t mean to leave you like that. If it wasn’t for the emergency, he wouldn’t have been so rushed.”

“But you’ve had him for long enough. It’s time to give him back.”

“Sorry you got all that hate online. Ethan was all over me last night, I didn’t have a chance to apologize.”

She even made sure to show the hickey on her neck.

I took a screenshot, saving the evidence.

I replied: “It’s fine. You two deserve each other, a cheater and a homewrecker.”

Seeing my defiant message, Olivia’s face changed.

Her eyes flashed with venom.

She rushed into Ethan’s arms, who had just come out of the fitting room, crying about how mean I was.

After hearing her exaggerated account, Ethan grabbed his phone, ready to defend her honor.

Seconds later, my ringtone echoed behind them.

Ethan, who had been furious, froze when he saw me.

Olivia sobbed, “I just messaged Sarah to apologize, and she called me a homewrecker and you trash. It’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have gotten sick and made you stay with me all night.”

The moment Olivia cried, he turned back into that cold, distant man.

He held her, comforting her, telling her she didn’t need to apologize.

Then he turned to me, his eyes icy.

“If you have a problem, take it up with me. Olivia just recovered, why are you upsetting her?”

“Can’t you be more considerate? Just like they say online, you’re so vicious.”

“When did you become so petty?”

I stood there, dazed.

I thought, after all these years, he must have loved me.

Now I realized, he just lightly tried loving me, then quickly withdrew, saving his heart for his first love, far away.

Now that she was back, he poured his heart out to her without reservation.

Suddenly, I envied Olivia, being loved so completely. Someone once gave everything for me too, but he was gone.

Olivia, ever so understanding, took his hand. “Ethan, don’t be mad at Sarah. After all, she was with you while I was gone. It’s natural for her to be upset.”

“It doesn’t matter how long she was with me, fifty years, a hundred years, it’s not even a fraction as important as you.”

Before I could speak, Olivia said sadly, “Sarah, I’m so sorry. If it wasn’t for me, Ethan wouldn’t have left you last night.”

“Don’t be mad at him, blame me.”

She glanced at me, a smug look in her eyes.

“Olivia, you have nothing to apologize for. Being with you is where I belong.” He glared at me. “No need to explain to irrelevant people.”

I watched their lovey-dovey act for a while. “Since you have someone new, you can come get your stuff from the apartment.”

Ethan was stunned.

I turned and left without waiting for his reply.

Before I’d gone far, I received a text: “It’s fine to find a stand-in to kill time, but you didn’t have to pick such a pathetic one.”

I smiled sadly. Where could I find someone better than him?

The countdown was getting closer. My list was almost complete.

It was times like these that the longing I had suppressed for him came flooding back.

Tears streamed down my face.

After a while, I realized my hands were covered in cuts.

I was all alone.

I continued posting online as usual. The hate messages kept coming.

I came back from grocery shopping and found another text.

“Move on with your life. The dead can’t come back. Look forward.”

I stared at the words for a long time.

I laughed humorlessly.

How could I ever forget?

After that unpleasant encounter, Ethan never contacted me again.

Actually, he hadn’t paid attention to me since his first love returned.

Their posts flooded my social media feeds.

Drone light shows over the Hudson River, a path paved with 99,999 roses.

Olivia, with tears in her eyes, kissing my boyfriend.

A perfect couple.

Just like he said, no amount of companionship could compare to her.

Good.

I thought so too.

I started packing, getting ready to leave.

Three years in this apartment, I’d accumulated a lot of stuff. It was a pain to throw it all away.

I wanted a clean break. I didn’t want any more entanglement with him.

Even though he probably didn’t care.

No matter how long I’d been with him, it wasn’t worth a single smile from his first love.

But then again, who wasn’t?

After several trips to the dumpster, the apartment was still full.

I argued with the building manager about the disposal issue.

When I got back upstairs, there were several pairs of unfamiliar shoes outside my door.

I opened the door to find a group of people feasting on the dinner I had just made, praising Olivia’s cooking.

They all froze when they saw me.