Chapter Forty
Ethan was leaning against the counter, trying to calm down after everything, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He jumped a little—his nerves were still fried—and pulled it out.
Dad.
His stomach tightened. He shot a quick look at Carter, who gave him a small nod, like go ahead, you’re okay.
Ethan answered. “Hey, Dad.”
His father didn’t waste time. “You’re not to worry about those boys. I’ve handled it.”
Ethan exhaled a breath, a wave of relief washing over him as he realized the tension he’d been carrying. “Thanks.”
“They won’t be bothering you again,” his father added, voice firm in that way that meant he’d already made sure of it.
Ethan nodded even though his father couldn’t see him. “Okay. Good.”
There was a pause—one of those heavy ones where Ethan could practically hear his father shifting gears.
“I also got mail from the school,” his father said. “Your reregister for your classes to complete your last year came in.”
Ethan froze. His heart did a weird flip—part excitement, part dread.
School. Again. Away from Carter. Away from the ranch. Away from… this.
“Oh,” Ethan said, because his brain couldn’t come up with anything better.
“It’s up to you whether you want to commute or live on campus,” his father continued. “I’m giving you a second chance, Ethan.”
A second chance.
The words hit him harder than he expected.
He swallowed. “I… I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything right now. Just think about it.”
Ethan glanced at Carter across the kitchen. Carter was watching him, arms crossed, and concern written all over his face. The idea of leaving him—even for classes—made Ethan’s chest tighten.
“Yeah,” Ethan said. “I’ll think about it.”
“Good,” his father said. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
They hung up, and Ethan lowered the phone slowly, staring at the screen like it might tell him what to do.
Carter stepped closer, his boots whispering over the floor. “Everything okay?”
Ethan’s chest squeezed, like the phone call had wrapped invisible hands around his ribs. “He… is giving me the option to finish school. Says I can commute or live on campus. Says it’s a second chance.”
Carter nodded, expression steady in that way that always grounded Ethan. “That’s good news.”
“Yeah,” Ethan said, though the word stuck to his tongue. Nothing about it felt simple. His stomach twisted with a mix of relief, dread, and fear. “I just… I don’t want to leave the ranch. I don’t want to leave you.”
Carter’s eyes softened, the tension in his shoulders easing. “You’re not losing me. No matter what you choose.”
Something in Ethan’s chest loosened—just a little, but enough to breathe again. “I just need time to think.”
“Take all the time you need,” Carter said. “We’ll figure it out together.”
Carter studied him for a moment, then added, “Living in Chico gives you the freedom you had. Is that what you want?”
Ethan shook his head immediately. “No. I want you. My problem isn’t over commuting or not. It’s whether I want to return to school.”
“I can help you on that,” Carter said, voice firm but gentle. “You’re finishing what you started.”
Ethan frowned, heat rising in his cheeks. “Why do I feel like you’re on his side?”
“I’m on your side always,” Carter said without hesitation. “I want you to finish. That’s all.”
Ethan rubbed his forehead, the weight of everything pressing down again. “We have to leave in the morning.”
Carter nodded once. “Let’s take a walk on the beach.”
“Good idea.”
They fell into step, shoulders brushing now and then as they walked through the cool sand. The ocean murmured beside them, waves rolling in and out like a steady heartbeat. Ethan breathed in the salt air, trying to settle the storm inside him.
“I want to tell my father first,” Ethan said. “Do you mind?”
Carter slowed a little. “Don’t you want me to tell him and make this okay?”
“It’s not about making it okay or not,” Ethan said. His voice wavered, but he didn’t look away. “It’s about me finally telling him I’m gay. In his own cold manner, he loves me. I thought about lots of our conversations and I think he already knows.”
“But he didn’t mention it in the file,” Carter said.
“I want to see that file.”
“I burned it.”
“Did you read everything first?”
“Yes. Nothing in there about you being gay.”
“He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t betray me.” Ethan kicked lightly at the sand. “I just feel like he knows. He didn’t get upset when my mother said you were playing house with me. I think he knows.”
Carter exhaled slowly. “I don’t know if he knows. Why would he entrust me with you?”
“Maybe he thinks you’re perfect for me,” Ethan said, half teasing, half terrified he meant it too much. “Don’t tell me I’m dreaming.”
“No,” Carter said. “I don’t know your father as well as you do or on the same level either. I never came out to my family.”
Ethan’s chest tightened again, but this time with something like courage. “My mother won’t ever speak to me again. But that’s her loss.”
Carter looked at him with something close to awe. “I’ve never seen you so confident about anything like this.”
“Will you let me talk first?” Ethan asked.
“Yes,” Carter said. “He’s your father.”
***
The drive back to Foggy Basin seemed longer than it ever had before. The road wound through the hills the same way it always did, but Ethan couldn’t shake the feeling that every mile was pulling him toward something huge—something he couldn’t undo once it was said out loud.
Carter drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh, fingers tapping every now and then like he was thinking hard but trying not to show it. He didn’t push. Didn’t ask. Didn’t fill the silence. He just stayed there—solid, steady, an anchor in the storm swirling in Ethan’s chest.
Ethan stared out the window, watching the familiar landscape blur by. The ranch fences. The open fields. The mountains in the distance. It was a strange feeling, like being welcomed home while also being cornered.
His stomach churned with a sudden wave of apprehension.
I’m really going to tell him. I’m actually going to say it.
When they reached the cabin, Ethan’s hands were shaking. He tried to hide it, stuffing them into his pockets as he stepped out of the truck.
Carter noticed anyway. “You okay?”
“No,” Ethan admitted. “But I’m doing it.”
Carter nodded once, firm. “I’m right here.”