Chapter 29 – The "Dancing with Horses" Party
Now that he finally felt like he was back on the right path, Ethan felt lighter all over.
His body was exhausted, but mentally he was buzzing — the classic "physically dead, emotionally floating" state.
After work, he stepped out of the clinic. He hesitated for a second, then decided to head to the Williamsburg Diner. He hadn't been there in weeks, he kind of missed Max — and she would definitely roast him for his recent "vanishing from the mortal realm."
The taxi stopped outside the diner in Brooklyn.
Ethan got out and stared at the crowd of oddly dressed hippies gathered on the street, briefly wondering if the driver had taken him to the wrong place.
The diner entrance was packed. Neon lights flashed. A giant golden "90" balloon hung above the door.
People drank and chatted while TLC's "Creep" played in the background. The air smelled of beer, perfume, and a faint cloud of nostalgia.
In the middle of the crowd, Caroline — dressed in a pink crop top and bright orange mini skirt, like a "dessert princess who wandered onto the wrong movie set" — was greeting guests while counting a stack of cash.
Most absurd of all—
There was an actual horse by the curb.
Chestnut happily munched on a carrot like this was perfectly normal.
Seeing Caroline confirmed Ethan hadn't hallucinated his way to the wrong address.
"Hey, Caroline. What's going on here?" he asked, walking over. "And why is Chestnut here too?"
Caroline clutched her roll of bills and turned. "Ethan! Long time no see! This is our 'Dancing with Horses — 90s Party.'"
She struck a pose. "I am the genius mastermind behind this beautiful chaos. Wanna join? One hundred dollars."
"Obviously."
Ethan paid without complaint. Caroline grinned and pointed inside. "Max is in there. Go wild, Doctor~"
Inside was even louder.
Colored lights flashed. The walls were plastered with old posters of Friends and the Backstreet Boys.
Max was behind the counter stacking cups, dressed in peak cool-girl chaos: a yellow utility skirt, a red plaid shirt tied around her waist, a denim vest on top, and a black fedora — just the right amount of punk.
"Oleg, what's wrong? Not enjoying the '90s Dancing with Horses party?"
Oleg complained, "I thought it was '90s Dancing with Hot Chicks party. I wore tight pants and even put on deodorant for nothing."
Max smirked. "Well then, thank you for your misunderstanding. Today, we breathe fresh air."
Just then, the owner, Han Lee, hurried over, practically glowing with excitement. He was wearing a homemade white T-shirt with a picture of himself pointing dramatically, next to bold text.
"I looked up what was popular in the '90s and made this myself — 'TALK TO THE HAN!' Get it?" he said proudly. "People gotta Han-dle me!"
"…That's actually kinda cool."
Han leaned in and whispered, "I'm hoping this shirt helps me… get a girlfriend tonight."
"You mean get laid," Max translated. "Good luck with that."
Right then, a familiar voice came from the entrance.
"Max."
She turned — froze for two full seconds.
"Holy crap… didn't you die? Or am I hallucinating from exhaustion?"
Ethan walked up smiling and, instead of explaining anything, just pulled her into a hug.
Max froze, coffee pot nearly slipping from her hand.
"Oh wow, straight to physical contact. You drunk? Or lose a bet?"
She said it, but didn't push him away — just gave his back a light pat.
"Okay, three seconds are up. Any longer and I start charging."
Ethan let go, voice soft. "I really missed you, Max."
She blinked, then arched a brow. "Funny, that almost sounds like I'm the one who disappeared for three weeks."
Caroline came in from outside, grinning. "Hey you two — someone just asked me how much it costs to hug the 'big-chested waitress.'"
"Max radiates appeal," Ethan said solemnly, then added, "So… can I order food?"
"Absolutely not. Kitchen's closed," Max said. "Have a cupcake. Ten bucks each. For you, that's a discount — since you're free."
"The kitchen's closed? How did you convince your boss to throw a party then?" Ethan asked between bites.
Max replied calmly, "We told him it might help him lose his virginity."
Caroline added, "And that it would help him pay off his mortgage."
Max shrugged. "So far, neither goal has been achieved."
They all glanced over. Han was awkwardly dancing alone in a corner.
"Look at that tragic display," Max muttered. Then to Caroline: "Go lend him a 'hand' and bring the man some joy."
Caroline smacked her arm, laughing.
Just then, a few sharply dressed men walked in. Caroline recognized one — and instantly went pale. She turned and bolted into the kitchen.
Ethan blinked. Max immediately followed, dragging him along.
---
In the kitchen
Max whispered, "Why are we hiding? Let's go kick that jerk's ass and teach him the price of being trash!"
Caroline shook her head fast. "No! I can't face him."
"Why not? He's the one who dumped you!"
"I can't see him… because now I'm just a waitress."
Ethan raised a hand. "Can someone download the backstory into my brain?"
Caroline sighed. "That guy outside is William. The second I went bankrupt, he dumped me. Blocked my calls, emails — everything. Last time he saw me, I was a rich girl with a mansion."
She lowered her head. "Now I'm just a waitress hiding in a kitchen."
Ethan nodded. Backstory received.
Max put hands on hips. "So you think Old You had more dignity?
Please. Now you earn your own money and live your own life. Back then you were just a doll lying on a trust fund. He's the one who should be embarrassed."
Caroline looked up, eyes red. "But… I'm really scared to see him."
"What's to be scared of?" Max snapped. "He's just an idiot who paid a hundred bucks to dance with a horse. He's the loser, not you."
Ethan, quietly eating drama like popcorn: "???"
Caroline whispered, "Really?"
Max jerked her thumb at Ethan. "Ask him."
"Caroline," Ethan said gently, "Max is right. That guy doesn't deserve the person you are now."
"Why?" she asked automatically.
"Because he didn't love you. He loved your money," Ethan said plainly. "You go broke — he vanishes. No calls, no emails. That means he valued your trust fund, not your looks, brains, or strength."
He paused, choosing Max-style wording. "Which makes him both stupid and trash."
He leaned forward. "Think about it this way — you're lucky. You found out who he was before marriage.
Imagine you married him. Had kids. Built your life around him. Then one day he meets someone richer — or drains your assets — and disappears, leaving you and your kids behind.
That pain? A thousand times worse than this."
Ethan finished softly, "So this outcome? It's the best possible one for you."
Caroline listened. The panic and shame in her eyes slowly faded.
She took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah… you're right. I really am lucky."