Chapter Eighteen #4
Once we’re both satiated, we clean up and head back out to the main area. Blaire gives me a knowing look, and my cheeks heat up, but thankfully, she doesn’t say or ask anything. I’m sure she’s saving it for our girls’ day, where she’ll be grilling me like crazy.
After watching another couple dances and drinking a few more drinks, we say goodbye to Christy and Naomi, then head out.
Blaire gives me a warm hug, making me promise, now that she knows where I am and who I’m with, not to keep her in the dark.
With the promise to call her soon, we part ways, and Ethan and I head home.
Home… the thought fills my chest with butterflies.
What it would feel like to live with Ethan.
To wake up next to him every morning. To sit at the table and drink coffee and have breakfast with him before we both leave for work.
To come home at the end of the day and have dinner with him.
To go to bed at night and make love to him.
I glance over at him and think about what he said to me earlier when he asked me to move in: I know him better than anyone.
Why did I tell him no to living together?
Because I don’t know enough about him? Do you ever really fully know someone?
And isn’t that the point of living with someone, to share your life with them? Get to know more about them every day.
My thoughts go back to Stephen. I thought I knew everything about him and never knew he had a gambling addiction.
I’ve known my mom my entire life and never knew she was keeping secrets.
What I do know, though, is that life is too short and I promised Stephen I would live hard and love harder, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
“I’ll move in with you.” Ethan glances over at me before looking back out at the dark road ahead. “When I’m safe and it’s time to leave the beach house, I’ll move in with you.”
His lips curl into a beautiful grin, and he takes my hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth. “Thank you,” he murmurs, kissing the tops of my knuckles. “You have no idea how happy you’ve just made me.”
But I think I know, because for the first time in my life, I realize I’m no longer just surviving, getting through each day, but instead actually living. My heart feels full and content—I feel happy.
Over the next month, Ethan and I settle into a comfortable routine.
During the day, we spend a lot of time together.
Some days, it’s as simple as lounging around the house with his mom and dad, and others, he surprises me with trips.
He makes it a point to get several items from my list checked off.
We visit the local aquarium and swim with dolphins, go to the shooting range, where he teaches me how to shoot a gun, and one night after coming home from the club, he brings home a joint.
It only takes a couple hits for me to get high and turn into a giggling mess.
Ethan cracks up, thinking I’m hilariously entertaining, and tells me he may have to bring home another joint in the future so he can be entertained again.
At night, he goes to the club. Sometimes I go with him, but more often than not, I stay home.
My headaches tend to be worse at night, so I use the time he’s at work to rest. By 2:00 a.m. he crawls into bed.
Most nights when he gets home, I’ll wake up and we’ll talk.
I think it’s Ethan’s way of us getting to know each other.
He’ll ask me questions and tell me about himself.
Talking almost always leads to kissing and fooling around, but Ethan never lets it go too far, always stopping things before we cross that imaginary line.
Sometimes I argue, other times I pout, but no matter what, he never gives in.
He tells me I’ll regret it and then holds me close while I lay my head on his chest and fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat.
Blaire and Victor have come over on several occasions to barbeque and go swimming.
She’s officially moved out of the condo and is planning their wedding.
Since I’ve agreed to move in with Ethan, he had the stuff I need brought here, and what I don’t need, brought to his place.
I haven’t been to his home yet, but I think he’s waiting to bring me once I’m safe and we’re able to move in.
My mom and I haven’t spoken at all. She’s called me and left messages, but I’m not ready to deal with her yet.
I know when I do decide to talk to her, I’m going to demand she explain what Stephen said to me, and no matter which way she goes, whether she tells the truth or lies, my life—our life—will be forever changed.
Then one day, while I’m lying in bed, resting, our comfortable routine is broken. Raquel knocks on my door and tells me Ethan had to go away. Confused, I sit up and ask, “Why?”
“I’m not sure, sweetie. He asked me to let you know that he’ll be home as soon as he can. He also asked that you not leave while he’s gone.”
“Do you know how long he’ll be gone for?”
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t.” She walks over and gives my forehead a kiss. “Andrew and I are here if you need anything.”
The first night he’s gone, I have trouble falling asleep. I toss and turn, coming up with worst-case scenarios. My heart hurts in his absence, and eventually I cry myself to sleep.
The second night, I do something I haven’t done since Stephen died: I pray—for Ethan to be safe and come home to me.
The third night, I let my insecurities get the best of me and assume the worst. I call Blaire in tears, worried Ethan has left me for someone else.
She, of course, tells me I’m being ridiculous and that Ethan loves me.
When I mention we’ve never said the words, she tells me she doesn’t need him to say them to know he’s in love with me.
The fourth night, I get mad. “What is he doing that he can’t even pick up the phone and call me one single time?” I ask Raquel over dinner. “Does he not care that I’m worried and freaking out?”
Andrew and Raquel make eye contact and something tells me they know more than they’re telling me. No longer hungry, I excuse myself and go to bed early.
I’m sleeping fitfully when strong arms wrap around me from behind.
I scream, startled, and turn around, to find the strong arms belong to Ethan.
Seeing his perfect face, I lose it. I go from crying, to yelling, to sobbing, and the entire time he doesn’t say a word, just holds me patiently, until I finally stop, giving him a chance to speak.
“Logan and Felix have been taken care of,” he says. “You’re safe.”
It takes me a second for the words to sink in, but once they do, I gasp. “You killed them?”
I should be upset, disgusted at what he’s done, but the only emotion I feel is relief.
I was raised to believe that the killing of a person is one of the most grievous sins, but as I look into Ethan’s eyes, all I feel is warmth toward him.
And I realize in this moment, the love I feel for him overpowers anything else.
My feelings for him are strong and unwavering, and he could tell me anything and it wouldn’t change how I feel because I love him wholly and completely, without judgement.
“Never mind, it doesn’t matter,” I tell him truthfully.
“I don’t want to know.” I pull him over me and thread my fingers through his hair.
He hovers above me, his hands resting on either side of my head.
“I love you, Ethan. Thank you for saving me.” I pull his mouth down to mine and kiss him hard, trying to convey every emotion I’m feeling.
He kisses me back, but when things start to progress, heating up, he pushes off me and sits up. “You assume I killed two men and in response, you tell me you love me?” he questions, his face marred in confusion.
“I do love you. I don’t agree with killing them, but I know you did it to protect me.” He told me he would make sure to protect me, to put me first, and I knew after what happened to Kelsi and their baby, he would stop at nothing to make sure I’m safe. “I love you so much.”
Ethan shakes his head. “I didn’t kill them, Nevaeh.”
When I give him a perplexed look, he says, “I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I want to be a better man for you. I want to be worthy of your love.” He kisses my lips softly.
“Then what did you do?”
“I did something I swore I would never do… I went to the police.”