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I wait for Ethan’s answer. I think a tiny part of me wants him to reach across the space between us, grab my knee, and beg me to reconsider. I want to hear him confess that he actually has feelings for me. He can’t imagine not seeing me more than in passing.
But he doesn’t do any of those things. Instead, he takes a long sip of coffee, then another. The silence, other than his slurping, is completely unbearable. I can’t continue to sit here after breaking up with him. That’s what’s just happened, right?
“Well, I guess that’s settled then. We’re just ending this thing and moving on with our lives.”
I push myself to my feet and wait one more beat for Ethan to say something. I’m really giving him a lot of chances here, but he doesn’t seem to want to take any of them.
Ethan takes another sip of his coffee, and that’s indication enough to me that I can show myself out. I head out,and when the wind bites into my skin this time, it’s not welcome.
I hurry across the yards between our houses, surprised to feel tears on my cheeks.
Why the hell am I crying for him? He clearly doesn’t care about me if he let me go like that. He didn’t even say anything or try to convince me that maybe we should think of another solution.
But that’s probably because I’m the only one who enjoys our time together so much. To him, I’m just another woman to sleep with.
That realization stings more than Aurora’s cold treatment of me. I guess what we had was nothing to him. It really was nothing.
29
ETHAN
Sittingin the quiet of my living room, I stare at the half-empty glass of coffee in my hand. I shake my head. I don’t need to drink coffee. I need to drink something stronger.
I head to my cabinet of drinks. It may be only nine in the morning, but I’ve had a long night and an even longer morning.
Madison suggested we break up. She’s right. We were never officially “going together.” But I considered us a couple. Maybe I never said it to anyone because we had to keep everything a secret, but in my head, I was always thinking about Madison. I was thinking about what she would like to eat or what I could do to make her feel special. Sure, sometimes, I was thinking about how much I liked undressing her and touching her slowly, but that definitely wasn’t the only thing we shared.
The words echo in my head, and each time they circle through my brain, they feel harsher. I didn’t expect it to hurt like this, but it does. I can still see her face when she said it, the way her eyes darted to the floor as though she didn’twant to see me. She was trying to protect us both, I know that. Hell, I know she’s right.
But knowing it’s the right thing doesn’t make it any easier.
I’ve been replaying the conversation in my head ever since she left.
I rub a hand over my face and take a long sip of whiskey. Its warmth floods through me. Yes, this is definitely better than coffee. I feel like it might help me get some sleep. It should be easy to fall asleep after working a night shift, but not when I have such heavy stuff on my mind.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t mean to get so wrapped up in her. It was casual at first, just… I don’t even know what it was. An escape, maybe. It was the same way it was with other women, except she’s younger, more innocent, sweeter. I loved spending time with her just watching the delight on her face as she watched the dogs wrestle around. That is one thing I experienced with her that I haven’t experienced with any other woman in a long time—pure delight in the simple things.
But now? Now it’s over. I guess I’m just going to have to get used to that. I’ll find someone else to keep me busy. I know I can do that easily. Money has a way of making women appear. But I don’t feel like deep down that’s the right solution.
I down the rest of the whiskey in one go, feeling the burn as it slides down my throat. My chest tightens at the thought of never seeing her again.
And now I have to let it all go. I have to let her go.
Aurora.
I need to let her know. She’s the reason we broke up. I need to tell her that Madison and I aren’t a thing anymore. It should make her happy.
I pull out my phone and stare at it for a long moment before dialing Aurora’s number. It rings, and rings, and rings—until finally, it goes to voicemail.
“Hey, it’s me. I know you don’t want to talk to me right now, but…I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. Things between me and Madison—they’re over. I ended it, just like you wanted.”
I pause, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I know I screwed up, and I get it if you need time. But I love you, Aurora. You’ll always be my daughter.”
I hang up, not expecting a response. She’s hurt, and I don’t know how long it’ll take for her to come around. She can hold a grudge when she gets angry.
But I need her to accept me again and not hold onto this grudge for too long. Because right now, I’m left with no one, not my daughter and not my…girlfriend? Or whatever Madison was.
I sink back down on the couch, feeling like the house is growing bigger around me. It’s just me, alone with my thoughts, and the rest of the empty space in the house. I feel the urge to reach for my phone again, to text Madison, to see if maybe we can still figure something out. But I stop myself. That’s not fair to her. She’s already made her decision, and I can’t keep dragging this out.