So I'm the Copy? Watch Me Become the Original

I was Ethan Miller's number one fan—or so everyone thought.

They all believed I was completely head over heels for him. That I'd even go as far as getting plastic surgery to look like his first love, Olivia Carter, just to be her replacement.

So Ethan started acting out. He'd flirt shamelessly with other girls and let them mock me right to my face.

One of his friends pulled him aside once and told him to cool it. But Ethan just shrugged and said, "Relax. She's crazy about me. She'd never walk away."

Then one day, he got down on one knee and proposed.

I turned him down flat.

Something felt off. This wasn't like him. The real Ethan would never propose to me—not seriously, anyway.

Everyone knew the truth: both times we got together, it was because he was heartbroken over Olivia.

When she rejected his confession, he came to me.

When she left the country, he came back to me.

I was like a side character in his story—filling in the gaps until the main plot picked back up.

Maybe my willingness to always be there made him bold. Or maybe Olivia's absence left a void he tried to fill with distractions.

Ethan, who'd always been a one-woman kind of guy, suddenly started playing the field. There was a new girl on his arm every other week.

Everyone thought I was just a placeholder. Disposable. Temporary.

But then, slowly, things began to change.

I'm not sure when it started, but he stopped seeing other people. He began cooking with me, watching movies, holding my hand during thunderstorms—covering my ears until I fell asleep.