Page 143 of Vows We Never Made

“She didn’t make it,” I say flatly.

“No,” he says bluntly. “Afraid she didn’t. I’m so sorry, kid.”

That’s the moment the lights go out.

That’s when the sun stops rising and I’m handed over to eternal night, and I know I don’t deserve the tiniest pinprick of stars.

I’m an accessory to murder, officially or not, and when the chief asks me to give a quick statement outside, I lie through my teeth.

17

ALL OF YOU (HATTIE)

Holy flying shitballs.

I stare at Ethan, thinking my heart just caved in.

For him, for the boy he was—just a clueless, confused kid, faced with one of the harshest realities any young man can deal with.

And the man it made him into now.

No wonder he’s soEthan.

So closed off with barbed wire and dragons guarding his heart.

And no flipping wonder it feels like he’s bleeding alone, quietly curled up and wounded in a place he won’t let anyone else tread.

“Well?” He looks at me expectantly.

“Um. Ummm, holy crap.” My voice is hoarse with my heart lodged in my throat. I want to reach out to him, but I don’t know if he’d even let me right now. “I had no idea, Ethan. I never would’ve guessed any of that, not in a million years.”

“I hid it well. Looks like it worked.”

“Yeah, wow. Margot never told me.” I grip the counter for support, completely stunned. My knuckles are white, but I can’t bring myself to relax my grip. “Wait, did she even know?”

“Hell no.” There’s a harshness in his voice that isn’t normally aimed at me. “No one did. Not another living soul—no one except Gramps.”

I blink slowly.

“You told Leo?”

“Not with words. I limped home and raided his liquor cabinet the second I noticed Holden was off for the day. Gramps found me on the verge of blackout drunk. Nearly blind and almost dead on the floor.”

Ethan breaks away from my stare, pacing the room like he can’t bear to remain still.

I get it.

Sometimes when you’re hurting this bad, it feels like your skin is too tight. You need to keep moving for the distraction.

“It must’ve been terrible,” I whisper.

“For me?” He scoffs. “No, I got off too lightly, Pages. I deserve every second of grief. I should’ve just told her from the start I’d figure this out. It wasn’t hard. I never should’ve let her leave the house, not in the state she was in. What kind of good-for-nothing piece of shit—” He stops, his hands shaking, gnarled into fists. “She must’ve figured out real fast it was hopeless. She came to me looking for help, for reassurance, and I spat in her face.”

I ache for him.

Every breath feels like inhaling saltwater, and I try to hold in my tears as my nose burns.

“Ethan, no. You can’t do that. You can’t beat yourself up over something that happened when you were barely grown, just starting out.”