Donut Doubt (Hearts Bend #5)

Chapter 4

ETHAN

Idon't sleep.

Instead, I lie in bed staring at the ceiling and thinking about Callie's text. What if Luke didn't know?

The question sits in my chest like a stone, heavy, and impossible to ignore.

I know the answer. We'd be lying to him. Sneaking around behind his back, and betraying the trust he's given me since the day we met.

I can't do that.

Won't do that.

At five, I give up on sleep and go for a run. The air is cool and damp, and my feet hit the dirt trail in rhythm. One step, then another. Don't think. Just move.

It doesn't work.

All I can think about is Callie standing behind her counter yesterday. The way she looked at me when our fingers touched. The way she moved around the kitchen like she owned the space, confident and sure.

The way I wanted to reach across that counter and pull her to me.

I run harder. Faster. Push myself until my lungs burn and my legs shake. When I finally stop, I'm three miles from the cabin and no closer to any kind of clarity.

I walk back slowly. The sun is coming up. Birds are starting their morning noise. Everything looks peaceful and normal.

Nothing feels peaceful or normal.

By seven, I'm showered, caffeinated and staring at my laptop. There are a lot of work emails piling up. I need to review code for the London office, and I need to finish the security audit that's due Wednesday.

I do none of it.

Instead, I sit there thinking about how I told Callie to stop making this harder. How I drew a line and told her we couldn't cross it, and then I remember how she asked what if Luke didn't know.

My phone buzzes.

Luke: You up?

Me: Yeah.

Luke: Come to breakfast. Miller's Diner. My treat.

I should say no. Should stay here and work and put distance between myself and anything involving the Reyes family.

Me: What time?

Luke: Now. I'm already here.

I close my laptop and grab my keys.

Miller's Diner is packed when I arrive. Luke is in a booth near the back, coffee already in front of him. He waves me over.

"You look like shit," he says when I slide into the seat across from him.

"Thanks."

"Seriously. You sleeping?"

"Not much."

"Work?"

"Something like that."

The waitress appears. I order coffee and eggs. Luke gets pancakes and bacon. When she leaves, he leans back and studies me.

"What's going on with you?"

"Nothing."

"That's the second time you've said that this week."

"Because it's true."

He doesn't look convinced. "You've been off since National Donut Day, did something happen?"

Yes, everything happened. I met your sister's eyes across a donut shop and felt something I shouldn't feel. I touched her hand and wanted more. I texted her in the middle of the night and told her nothing when I meant everything.

"No," I say. "Nothing happened."

Luke watches me for a long moment, then he nods like he's decided to let it go.

"Alright, but you know you can talk to me, right? About anything."

The guilt twists deeper. "I know."

Our food arrives, and we eat in silence for a few minutes. There’s conversations and laughter and the clatter of dishes fills the space between us.

"I'm worried about Callie," Luke says suddenly.

My fork stops halfway to my mouth. "Why?"

"She's working too hard, not taking care of herself." He shakes his head. "I tried to get her to hire help, but she's too stubborn."

"Sounds familiar."

"Yeah, well, she gets it from Dad." He takes a bite of pancake. "I'm glad you were there yesterday. To help with the rush."

"It was nothing."

"It wasn't nothing. You didn't have to do that."

I shrug. "You would've done the same."

"Maybe. But I'm her brother. You're just..." He trails off.

"Just what?"

"My best friend, who doesn't owe her anything, but helped anyway." He meets my eyes. "That means something, man. To me and to her."

The food in my stomach turns to lead. "Luke."

"I mean it. You're good people, Ethan. The kind of guy I'd want around my sister. The kind I'd trust with her."

The irony is suffocating. He trusts me, he's sitting here telling me he trusts me with Callie while I'm fighting the urge to text her, call her, show up at her shop and say fuck the consequences.

"I don't think Callie needs anyone around her," I manage. "She's doing fine on her own."

"She is. But everyone needs someone." Luke grins. "Even stubborn donut shop owners who won't admit they need help."

I focus on my eggs. I can't look at him. Can't let him see whatever's showing on my face.

"Speaking of which," Luke continues. "There's this guy, Marcus something, he came into the shop last week, he’s been hanging around ever since. I think he's into her."

My hand tightens on my fork. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. He seems decent enough, works at the bank, and I think he asked her to dinner."

Something hot and sharp cuts through my chest. "What'd she say?"

"She turned him down, said she's too busy." Luke shakes his head. "That's what I'm talking about, she's so focused on work, she's not even seeing what's in front of her."

"Maybe she's not interested."

"Or maybe she doesn't know how to let anyone in." He looks at me. "You ever feel like that? Like you've been alone so long, you forgot how to be with someone?"

I have no idea how to answer that question honestly.

"Sometimes," I say carefully.

"Yeah." Luke drinks his coffee. "I think Callie's the same way. After Mom died, she just shut down, she threw herself into helping Dad with the shop, then into running it herself. She’s never stopped long enough to actually live."

"She seems happy."

"She seems busy, that's not the same thing."

The waitress refills our coffee. I wrap my hands around the mug and try to figure out how to change the subject.

"Anyway," Luke says. "I'm glad you'll be helping with the Memorial Day delivery. It gives you two a chance to talk. Maybe you can convince her to slow down."

"I doubt she'll listen to me."

"She might. She respects you." He grins. "Plus, you're not her annoying big brother. That's gotta count for something."

We finish breakfast. Luke pays despite my protest. We walk out to the parking lot together.

"Thanks for coming," he says. "I know you're busy."

"Always got time for you."

"I know. That's what makes you a good friend." He claps me on the shoulder. "Same goes both ways. Whatever you need, I'm here."

I nod because I can't speak.

Luke drives off. I stand there in the parking lot with the sun beating down and the weight of his trust pressing on my chest.

I need to leave.

Not just the parking lot, not just for the day. I need distance. Real distance. Time away from Hearts Bend and Callie and this situation that's spiraling out of control.

I get in my truck and drive to the cabin. Once inside, I pull up my email and search for the message I've been ignoring for two weeks. The one from my old unit commander asking if I'd be interested in a security consulting job in Denver.

It's three weeks, maybe four. It’s good pay, and a chance to work with the team again. A chance to get away from here and clear my head.

I type a response before I can second-guess it.

Interested. When do you need an answer?

The reply comes within minutes.

Now. Can you start Monday?

I look around the cabin, at the life I built here. The quiet and space and solitude I thought I wanted. It's not enough anymore, maybe it never was.

I type: I'll be there.

The relief doesn't come. Just more weight. More guilt.

I call Luke.

"Hey, man," he answers. "Miss me already?"

"I need to talk to you about Memorial Day."

"What about it?"

"I can't do the delivery. Something came up."

Silence. Then: "What kind of something?"

"Work thing. Denver. I leave Sunday."

"For how long?"

"Three weeks. Maybe longer."

More silence. I can hear him processing, trying to figure out if I'm lying.

"Ethan. What's really going on?"

"Nothing. It's just work."

"Bullshit. You don't just take off for three weeks. Not without planning."

"This came up fast."

"So un-come-up. Tell them you can't go until June."

I could. I should. But if I stay here, I'm going to break, I’m going to do something I can't take back.

"I already committed," I tell him.

Luke sighs. "Alright. I'll figure out the delivery, don't worry about it."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Just..." He pauses. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm sure."

"Because if something's wrong, you can tell me."

"I know, but nothing's wrong."

The lie tastes bitter. I've told Luke a lot of truths over the years. Truths about war and death and the things that keep me awake at night. But this truth, the one about his sister, I can't tell him.

I won't tell him.

"Alright," he says finally. "Be safe in Denver. Call me when you're back."

"I will."

I hang up and sit there with my phone and the knowledge that I'm running. That's what this is. Running from Callie and the way she makes me feel and the choice I'm terrified I'll make if I stay.

My phone buzzes.

Callie: Luke said you're leaving.

I stare at the message. Should've known he'd tell her immediately.

Me: Work thing.

Callie: For three weeks.

Me: Maybe four.

The dots appear and disappear. Appear again. This time they stay.

Callie: Is this because of what I said last night?

I close my eyes. She knows, of course she knows.

Me: No.

Callie: Ethan.

Me: It's work. That's all.

Callie: You're lying.

Me: I'm not.

Callie: You're running.

The words hit harder than they should. Because she's right, I am running, and we both know it.

Me: Maybe. But it's better this way.

Callie: Better for who?

Me: Everyone.

The dots appear and stay for a long time. No message comes.

I set down the phone and look around the cabin. I need to pack. I need to arrange things so the place doesn't fall apart while I'm gone. I need to do something productive instead of sitting here staring at my phone.

I don't move.

The phone buzzes again.

Callie: Will you at least come and say goodbye?

My chest tightens. Seeing her before I leave is a terrible idea. The worst idea. But I can't leave town without seeing her face one more time.

Me: When?

Callie: Tonight. The shop. After close.

Me: Callie…

Callie: Please.

I should say no. Should tell her it's not a good idea. Should maintain the distance I'm trying to create.

Me: What time?

Callie: Seven.

Me: I'll be there.

I set down the phone and drop my head into my hands.

This is a mistake, I know it's a mistake. But I'm going anyway because the thought of leaving without seeing her one more time is worse than the risk of what might happen.

The afternoon passes slowly. I pack, make arrangements for the cabin, and send emails confirming the Denver job. All of it feels mechanical. As if I'm watching myself move through the motions from somewhere far away.

At six-thirty, I'm in my truck driving to Morning Star Donuts. The streets are quiet. Most businesses are closed for the evening. The sun is setting, painting everything orange and gold.

I park around the corner where Luke won't see my truck if he drives by. Then I walk the block to the shop. The lights are on inside. Through the window I can see Callie wiping down tables.

She looks up when I push open the door. Our eyes meet.

"Hi," she says quietly.

"Hi."

She sets down the rag and comes around the counter. We stand there in the space between the tables and the door. Close enough to touch.Yet neither of us moves.

"You're really leaving," she says.

"Yeah."

"And it's not because of work."

I don't answer. I can't lie to her face.

"Ethan." She steps closer. "Talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"That's not true."

"Callie." Her name comes out rough. "Don't."

"Don't what? Don't ask you to be honest? Don't point out that you're leaving because you can't handle being around me?"

"I can handle it."

"Can you?" She's close now, too damn close. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're running away."

"I'm creating distance."

"Same thing."

"It's not." I take a breath. "If I stay here, something's going to happen. Something we'll both regret."

"Why would we regret it?"

"Because of Luke."

"Luke doesn't control my life."

"He's my best friend. He’s the only person who's been there for me through everything. I can't betray that."

Callie's jaw tightens. "Betraying him would be lying. All I'm asking is for you to admit what's happening between us."

"Nothing's happening between us."

"Stop." She closes the distance. We're inches apart now. "Stop lying."

My hands curl into fists. Every instinct is screaming at me to touch her. To close the final gap and prove her right.

I don't move.

"I need to go," I say.

"Ethan."

"This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come."

"Please don't leave like this."

"There's no other way to leave."

I turn toward the door, suddenly her hand catches my arm.

The contact burns. I freeze.

"Just tell me one thing," she says. "If Luke wasn't a factor. If there was nothing stopping us. Would you want this?"

I look at her. Really look at her. At her green eyes and the way she's biting her lip and the hope mixed with frustration on her face.

"It doesn't matter what I want."

"It matters to me."

"Why?"

"Because I need to know I'm not imagining this."

I should lie. I should tell her she's imagining everything. That I don't feel anything beyond friendship. That leaving for Denver has nothing to do with her.

Instead, I tell the truth.

"You're not imagining it."

Her breath catches. "Ethan."

"But that doesn't change anything. Luke trusts me, he trusts us. I'm not going to destroy that."

"Even if it means destroying this?"

"There is no this. There can't be."

She lets go of my arm. Steps back. The hurt on her face nearly breaks me.

"You're wrong," she says quietly. "There's already a this. You leaving doesn't change that."

I don't have an answer. I can't argue with something I know is true.

"Goodbye, Callie."

"This isn't goodbye."

"It has to be."

I walk out before she can respond. Before I can change my mind. Before I do something I can't undo.

The truck is where I left it. I get in and start the engine. I don't look back at the shop. I can't look back.

I drive home on autopilot. The cabin is dark when I arrive. I don't turn on any lights, just sit in the truck in the driveway and try to breathe through the tightness in my chest.

My phone is in my pocket. I can feel it. Can feel the temptation to pull it out and text her. Tell her I'm sorry. Tell her she's right about everything.

I don't.

Instead, I sit there until the sky is completely dark and my phone battery dies and I'm left alone with the choice I've made.

The right choice.

The only choice.

The choice that's tearing me apart.