Chapter 76
Ethan
My chest heaves as I look down at the pile of branches by my feet.
I don’t feel any better.
I don’t think anything could make me feel better right now.
I can’t…
She said when I was young.
When Tilda was a child, her mother put her in painful clothing so her child would want to lose weight.
My vision is blurry with anger as I think of my own mother.
She would’ve loved Tilda.
She would’ve loved every fucking thing about her.
She would never, not ever, have done that to her.
I can still hear my mom’s voice, telling me how perfect I was when I’d come home upset after someone teased me about my eye colors.
I can still hear her muffled voice from when I listened outside her door as she chewed out the school’s principal.
And that was just over words. If I’d been physically hurt…
She would’ve burned the world down.
That’s what every kid deserves.
That’s the bare fucking minimum.
And Tilda…
She deserves that too.
She deserves that now.
Tilda deserves world burning.
Tilda.
My wife.
I turn back toward the cabin.
One way or another, I’ll be the man she deserves.
I stride forward. Out of the woods.
And I find her.
Standing in the bucket of cold water.
Standing.
Not sitting on the stump with her feet in the bucket.
Standing. On the very feet that are paining her.
She didn’t move the bucket.
Didn’t wait for me to come back and help her.
She just got up, walked over, and stood in the fucking bucket.
There’s dirt on her pretty yellow skirt.
There’s a tiny twig stuck to the sleeve of her flannel.
And she looks… uncertain.
She looks like she’s doubting herself.
And I can’t take another second of it.
I close the distance between us.
“Ethan—”
I barely slow as I scoop her up.
She feels right in my arms.
She feels fucking perfect as I carry her bridal style through the open front door of the cabin.
And she looks like mine when I drop her onto the mattress.