I stared at Ethan.

For the first time in years, I didn’t know how to answer him.

Because I had spent the last two days believing a story that only existed inside my head.

Or maybe inside those strange floating comments.

But the pain was real.

The doubt was real.

I looked at the cat figure in his hand.

“You bought this for me?”

Ethan nodded.

“You mentioned it three times.”

I froze.

“Three times?”

“Yes.”

He sat on the edge of the bed.

“You said you wanted to adopt a cat after seeing one abandoned near your office. You said you didn’t want to rush because you wanted to prepare first.”

I looked down.

I remembered.

I had completely forgotten.

Because recently, I had been too focused on proving that I was not annoying.

“You remembered that?”

Ethan looked at me.

“Amelia, I remember everything you tell me.”

My heart tightened.

“Then why did you never say anything?”

“About what?”

“About me being too clingy.”

His expression changed.

Not anger.

Confusion.

“Who told you that?”

I didn’t answer.

Because how could I explain words appearing in front of my eyes?

How could I tell him that I had spent two days destroying myself because of something I couldn’t prove?

Ethan sighed.

“Amelia.”

His voice softened.

“Do you really think I would have stayed with you for three years if I hated the way you love me?”

I looked away.

“But you always said you needed space.”

“Yes.”

He nodded.

“Because sometimes I need quiet time after work. Because my job is exhausting.”

He paused.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”

The room became silent.

Then he smiled slightly.

“Do you remember when we first met?”

I nodded.

“You were the one who chased me.”

“Yes.”

“You invited me to coffee three times.”

I lowered my head.

“I know.”

“You texted me every morning.”

“I know.”

“You said I looked too serious and needed someone to make me smile.”

A small smile appeared on my face.

“You did look serious.”

Ethan laughed quietly.

“Exactly.”

His eyes became warmer.

“Do you know why I fell in love with you?”

I didn’t answer.

“Because you were the first person who didn’t treat my quiet personality as something broken.”

That sentence hit me harder than I expected.

“I thought I was bothering you.”

“No.”

He shook his head.

“You made my life warmer.”

My eyes became wet.

“Then why did you never tell me?”

“Because I thought you knew.”

That answer hurt.

Because maybe we had both made the same mistake.

I assumed his silence meant rejection.

He assumed my confidence meant I didn’t need reassurance.

Then my phone vibrated.

A new comment appeared.

The real protagonist has arrived at the company. Tomorrow Ethan will understand the difference between Amelia and Emma.

I stared at it.

Tomorrow.

The comments had been right about Emma appearing.

But they had been wrong about everything else.

The next morning, I went to work normally.

I expected to see Emma.

I expected to feel threatened.

Instead, when I entered the office, I saw Ethan talking with her.

For a moment, my heart tightened.

Then I noticed something.

Emma wasn’t looking at Ethan.

She was looking at another man standing beside her.

The legal director.

Her fiancé.

The comments had twisted everything.

A simple conversation became betrayal.

A simple kindness became romance.

A person’s personality became a weapon against them.

At lunch, Ethan came to my desk.

“Are you free tonight?”

I looked up.

“Why?”

He placed a small box on my table.

“Because I want to redo something.”

I opened it.

Inside were two tickets.

“The restaurant where we had our first date.”

I smiled.

“You hate waiting there.”

Ethan smiled.

“I hated waiting alone.”

I froze.

He continued:

“But waiting with you was different.”

Those words stayed with me.

Because suddenly I understood.

Love was never about finding someone perfect.

It was about learning someone’s language.

That night, we sat in the same restaurant.

The same place where we waited forty minutes for a table three years ago.

Back then, Ethan looked at the clock constantly.

I thought he was annoyed.

But now I noticed something.

He wasn’t watching the time.

He was watching me.

“Why are you smiling?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Nothing.”

“No.”

He leaned closer.

“You have that expression when you’re thinking too much.”

I laughed.

“Maybe I’m realizing something.”

“What?”

I looked at him.

“That I spent years being afraid you didn’t love me…”

“While you were probably wondering why I suddenly stopped loving you.”

Ethan became quiet.

Then he reached across the table and held my hand.

“Don’t stop loving me the way you love me.”

“Even when I don’t say it perfectly.”

My eyes softened.

“I won’t.”

“But I also won’t chase someone who doesn’t choose me.”

Ethan nodded.

“I don’t want you to chase me.”

“Then what do you want?”

He smiled.

“I want us to walk together.”

For the first time in days, no comments appeared.

No warnings.

No predictions.

Only silence.

A peaceful silence.

Months later, we adopted a small cat.

The same one from the figure he bought me.

And sometimes, when I hugged Ethan from behind while he cooked, he would pretend to complain.

“You’re making it hard to move.”

I would immediately let go.

But then he would grab my hand.

“Stay.”

And I would smile.

Because I finally understood.

The woman who loved too much was never the problem.

The problem was believing that love had to be reduced to make someone stay.

I almost lost the person who had been choosing me all along.

Just because I forgot to choose myself first.