Page 169 of When We Ignite

“Darling, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped like that. Please, come back upstairs with me.”

He shook his head, still hiding his face. “I know you meant it,” he said quietly, his words slicing through me. I heard the unmistakable sound of a sniffle, and my heart broke a little more.

Shifting closer, I reached for his arms, gently coaxing them away from his face. At first, he resisted, but then, reluctantly, he let me pull him into an embrace. His arms wrapped around my neck as I sat back on my heels, circling his waist with my own.

“I’m so sorry,” I tried again, pressing a kiss to his cheek. His skin was wet beneath my lips.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” he said bluntly.

I couldn’t help but nod. “I am,” I admitted. “I know I am. Why do you think I only hang out with my family? Nobody else can stand me.”

Ethan shook his head.

“I’m so sorry, pet. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you.” I ran my hand through his disheveled hair, holding him closer.

“I’m not hurt,” he muttered. “I’m mad.”

A smile tugged at my lips despite myself. “I’m sorry for pissing you off then.”

“I’m not trying to force you into anything, I just…” He trailed off.

I closed my eyes, pulling him tighter against me.

It was time for a little honesty to make up for this.“I care so much about you, pet. So fucking much. You know I adore you. You’re important to me. I’m sorry I said you weren’t. That’s not true—it’s never been true. Not with you.”

Ethan’s arms tightened around me in response. “Do you mean that?”

I nodded and eased back slightly, wanting to look at him.

Ethan moved reluctantly, his tear-streaked face coming into view. His bright, glistening eyes were filled with pain, and knowing I had caused it tore me apart.

“I mean it,” I said, my voice steady as I wiped a stray tear from his cheek with my thumb.

He turned his face away from my touch, clearly not wanting me to see him like this.

“Will you forgive me?”

“Are you going to keep acting like this?” His frown deepened, but there was a flicker of hope in his voice.

“No,” I promised. “I’m pissed off with my father, and I need to learn how to separate my personal feelings from the professional. That’s not on you, pet. It’s all me.”

Ethan nodded, his expression softening slightly. “I know what it feels like when someone bruises your pride, Ash,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of understanding.

“I’m sorry I’m the one serving you that lesson. I think the world of you, Ethan. Please don’t let me hurt you like that again. I’m the fucking idiot here.”

Ethan blinked, his brow furrowing slightly, as if he’d realized something in that moment that caught him off guard. He didn’t say anything, though, and after a beat, he nodded again.

He let me guide him to his feet, and we made our way back to the room together.

* * *

As the tension between us faded, Ethan softened, and we ended up in the tub together. The room was dimly lit, the warm water lapping gently against us as he leaned back against my chest, his fingers absently playing with mine. For the first time, I let myself speak about what had been weighing on me. Not because I wanted advice or solutions, but because saying it out loud—calmly, to him—eased a part of the burden I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying.

I told him everything. Months of frustration, endless fights, the gnawing feeling of uselessness—it all poured out of me. And with it came an unexpected wave of relief, so strong it made me crave to tell him more.

“I was ten when our mother passed,” I said softly, the words coming out unbidden.

Ethan turned his head, resting it against my shoulder, listening.