Chapter 42
Blake
Ethan and I continue to sit at the table in stunned silence. The low hum of the restaurant around us is distant, like it’s happening in another world entirely, and my thoughts are racing, trying to process what just happened.
He finally looks at me, guilt etched into his handsome face. His gray eyes, usually so clear and steady, are dark, and there’s a weight in his gaze, the curl of his hair falling over his forehead. He absently pushes it back.
“Blake, I’m so sorry.” His voice is quiet. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. Shit. This couldn’t have gone any worse.”
As he apologizes, my initial shock starts to give way to something darker. It’s not just about lunch. This is just another example of him trying to fix things, trying to get me to let him in, to rely on him, not listening to me when I try to keep him at arm’s length so I can keep my independence.
And I have to keep my independence. It’s the only safe way.
My heart pounds, each beat fueling the thoughts that have been simmering inside. I think back to the night on the boardwalk when he stepped in without asking, when he decided he knew what was best for me, disregarding my ability to handle the situation, handle David.
He still sees me as someone who needs rescuing, instead of someone who’s perfectly capable of dealing with their own shit.
The ache in my chest sharpens, morphing. My moms just walked out on me . How could he put me in this situation? The hurt twists into something hot and furious, burning deep inside me, pushing me to the brink until all the tension snaps. “What the hell were you thinking?” My words spill out, raw, hands trembling as I grip the edge of the table, a vein pulsing over a whitened knuckle.
“Princess—”
“You set this up without even telling me? You invited my moms to lunch? What did you think would happen?”
Ethan’s face falls. He leans forward, his hands reaching across the table, but I pull back, unable to let him touch me right now.
“I was just trying to help.” He holds my gaze. “I wanted you to know that you’re surrounded by people who love you.”
The words are meant to be comforting, but the more he tries to help me, the more suffocated I feel, like he’s trying to take away the independence I’ve fought so hard to maintain. If I let myself rely on him, what happens when he decides he’s had enough? When he leaves, just like everyone else?
“Do you really think you can just fix everything? You don’t get it, Ethan. It’s not your job to fix anything .” I’m teetering on the edge of something dark and endless, and I can’t pull myself back. Everything is falling apart, including me, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. All I can do is try to keep myself safe the only way I know how.
His expression tightens, and there’s conflict in his eyes—he’s struggling to find the right words. But there are no right words, not right now.
“The only thing I was trying to fix was us ,” he finally says. “Why can’t we compromise or talk about anything that matters? Why won’t you listen to me about anything, ever?”
“Your idea of compromise is me doing exactly what you say.”
“That’s not true. You’re just not seeing what’s right in front of you: you’re surrounded by people who will always stand by you, including me. You’re not your past, but you’re letting it destroy your future.”
“Always stand by me? Really? Because that’s not what I just saw. They’re gone, Ethan. Just like everyone else. And you—” I shake my head, my words tumbling out in a rush. “You think you’re helping, but you crossed a line. This is my life, my family, and you keep barging in like you know what’s best for me. Like I need you.”
Ethan’s eyes flash. “I know you’re upset about your moms. It was a mistake to get them together. They’re dealing with their own issues, but that doesn’t mean they won’t always be here for you. I’m just trying to show you that you’re not alone, that you have people who care about you.”
“You think you know—”
He holds up a hand, cutting me off. “Just listen for once. You can lean on me and your moms about David, about anything. If you need me to drive you somewhere late at night to deal with a tricky situation, I’ll do it. If you need help cleaning the bar at the end of a long day, I’m there. Don’t push me away.”
The emotions tearing through me triangulate at his words, centering on one thing— fear . Fear that he’s right, that I’m pushing him away when I should be letting him in. Fear of what might happen if I do let him in, how I’ll cope when the inevitable happens and he leaves. And fear that even if I let him in, I don’t know how to do that without losing myself in the process. I’m caught between wanting to keep him close and needing to protect myself.
And protecting myself is the only safe option. I don’t know much, but I know that.
He reaches out like he’s trying to stroke my cheek, but I pull back, recoiling from his touch. “No. I need to handle my own business, my own life. I can’t keep doing this.”
His face falls, his internal struggle playing out in his eyes. “Blake, please. Don’t do this.”
I look out the window beside our table, at the blue of the sea outside, grappling with what I need to do, even as it tears me apart.
“Hey,” he says gently. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry. We can’t do this anymore.”
He shakes his head. “No… No. What do you mean? Is this about lunch? I know it didn’t go the way I planned, but—”
“No, Ethan, it’s not just about today,” I cut him off, my voice wavering slightly. “It’s about everything. I’m the kind of person who needs to stand on my own two feet and I never hid that from you. I’ve been like that my whole life, and I can’t change that for anyone, not even you.”
His eyes widen, and I can see the pain in them, the way my words are cutting so deep. “Please, you don’t have to do this. We can start over. That’s what being in a relationship is about—being there for each other, growing and doing better. I can do better.”
“That’s the problem, Ethan,” I say, my walls getting stronger, my voice growing firmer as I push past the pain lancing through my heart. “You want to be there for me, to control everything and keep me safe from the world, but I don’t need that. I can’t be with someone who thinks I’m fragile or needs protecting.”
He looks stunned. “Please, Blake. I just want you to let me in”
“You’re deluding yourself. You have to let go of this intense need to be in control, or you’ll never find happiness. Not with me, not with anyone. Life doesn’t work like that.”
For a moment, I see the boyish insecurity beneath the strong exterior. “Please don’t do this. We can work through this. I’ll change, I’ll try harder. Just… don’t walk away. What we have is something special, it’s not something you just walk away from. I love you. I love you so damn much.”
Tears prick at my eyes, but I blink them away, refusing to let them fall. I’m hurting so bad, but the fear is even stronger.
“I love you. Please, let’s give this another shot.” His voice is raw, desperate. His eyes, those steel-gray eyes that have always been so steady, now look like they’re on the verge of shattering, filled with a vulnerability I’ve never seen before. His words hang in the air between us, a plea wrapped in hope.
But it’s too late. I have to do this.
I think back to Danny, to the way I let myself be vulnerable with him, how I trusted him with every piece of my heart, only to have it shattered when he died. The grief was unbearable, like a part of me had been ripped away. And I’ve always wished I kept more of myself locked away, not letting him get so close. The thought of going through that kind of pain ever again terrifies me. It’s safer to keep my distance, to protect what’s left of my heart, even if it means walking away now.
“I’m sorry.” My voice breaks, the sound barely more than a whisper, even though it feels like a scream inside my chest. “I can’t do this. We can’t be together. It’s over.”
The finality of my words crash over us, but there’s no other way. I can’t be with someone who tries to break down my walls, who wants to be let in, even if I love him. Especially because I love him.
Ethan looks like he’s been punched, his broad shoulders slumping as the air leaves his lungs in a ragged, uneven breath. His hand hovers in the space between us, uncertain, as if he’s reaching for something that’s no longer there.
“Blake, please…”
The pain in his eyes is unbearable, but I force myself to stand up. The chair scrapes against the floor.
Each step feels like tearing my heart out, but I start walking, knowing it’s the only way. Pushing open the door and stepping onto the street, I take one shaky breath after another, trying to hold myself together, but I’m fraying at the edges. And still, I don’t look back.
As I walk down the street, cool air hits my face, and for a moment, there’s an urge to turn back, to undo what I just did. But I keep walking.
It hurts—damnit, it hurts—but deep down, I know it’s what I have to do. I can’t rely on anyone but myself, not if I want to survive.