Chapter 44
Ethan
After a restless night, the shriek of the alarm wakes me, and it takes a few seconds to remember what happened yesterday at lunch. Suddenly there’s a heavy feeling in my chest and the empty space in my bed seems even more cold and barren.
“Fuck!” My eyes squeeze closed, hands clenched in fists by my side, before I kick the comforter off my legs.
A low whimper pulls my attention. Glancing across the room, Bandit’s staring at me from his bed, his head on his paws and a worried look in his eyes. I modulate my voice, trying to bring a sense of calm to the room so Bandit isn’t stressed: “What the hell am I supposed to do, buddy?”
But Bandit just stares at me, his furry eyebrows drawn together. He’s got no answers, either.
There’s so much tension in my jaw, and I take a moment to wiggle it out, blowing out a deep breath before I get out of bed. Moving on automatic: letting Bandit out, feeding him, drinking a glass of water before walking down the hallway to my home gym. I go through the motions, a punishing workout, pushing my body to its limits, hoping to drown out my thoughts about Blake. But no matter how hard I push, it doesn’t help.
Back in the kitchen, I reach for the vape on the corner of the kitchen bench, taking a quick drag, the familiar burn filling my lungs. Bandit tracks my every move, his head tilting slightly, as if he’s questioning my choices, and his unspoken judgment is almost enough to make me put the vape down—but not quite.
Even though all I want to do is stay home, I’ve got to work at the wetlands today, and soon we’re on the road. By the time I get there, the sun’s creeping higher in the sky. The Valiant Hearts boys—Jake, Antonio, Mike, Liam, and Patrick—are already here, visible in the distance wading through the muck, trying to clear the stubborn oil clinging to everything it touches, Mike’s Golden Retriever, Barks, sitting in the sun.
For a moment I just watch them from beside my truck, hands palming my hips, Bandit by my side. We’ve made a good dent in the work, but sections of the wetlands still look awful, reeds and grasses coated in thick, black slicks of oil, while pockets of water are a murky reflection of the sky, darkened by the leak through the booms. What kind of idiot doesn’t check on the booms? This is really not what I need today.
Grabbing a shovel and some bags from the back of my truck, I let out a heavy sigh and walk toward them, Bandit trotting alongside me. As I approach, Patrick glances at his watch and then at me, a stupid smirk playing on his lips.
“Late start, Carter?”
His tone is light, but it grates on my nerves. “Yeah, well, some of us have things to deal with besides fixing other people’s mistakes.”
There’s a flicker of surprise in his eyes before he shrugs it off, turning back to his work.
Liam steps up the boggy bank and hands me a pair of gloves, offering a grin alongside them. “Hey, fella, it’s all good. We’ve been making some progress here. Could use an extra set of hands, though. Glad you could make it.”
A nod, but my mood doesn’t improve. I’m restless, on edge: being here is grueling, both physically and mentally, especially after what happened with Blake, and the stench of oil in the air turns my stomach.
Digging my shovel into the muck, the boys are talking around me, but I’m not really listening. I’m too wrapped up in my own thoughts, in the endless loop of pain and frustration playing in my head.
Patrick throws a glance my way. “Everything alright? You’re wound pretty tight today.”
I grit my teeth, forcing a response. “Just tired. Didn’t sleep much.”
“Yeah, that’s too bad,” Patrick replies. “But we’ve got a job to do, man. Let’s stay focused.”
“I am focused.” The words snap out sharper than I intend, and even I know it’s a lie. Bandit gives me a long look from where he’s settled on one of the banks beside Barks, before dropping his head on his paws, watching everyone closely.
I slam the shovel harder into the oily mud, the heavy sludge resisting, before dumping a shovelful into the bag beside me. Repetitive action usually helps clear my head, but not today.
A little way down the line, Jake pauses, wiping sweat from his brow. He nudges Mike with his elbow. “Man, if I ever see another patch of oil again after this, I’m gonna lose it. Think we can convince the mayor to rename this place Slick City?”
Mike laughs, shaking his head as he scoops another clump of oil-soaked dirt into a bag. “Hell, I’m just hoping the next time we take Adele out here, we’re not wading through this mess. I promised her clean wetlands by the end of the month, not a damn tar pit.”
Their laughter grates against my nerves, and I slam the edge of my shovel into the dirt with more force than necessary. “You think this is funny? None of this is a joke.”
My voice carries over the wetland and Jake looks up, frowning.
I hold his gaze: “We don’t have all day. Move your asses, or we’re going to be out here until dark.”
Jake looks startled, then narrows his eyes. “I’m taking a quick breather, man. It’s not exactly light work.”
“Do better.” I’m being unreasonable but too wound up to care. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover, and we’re not making any progress with you two dragging your feet.”
“Chill, man,” Jake replies. “We’re all working our asses off out here. Just trying to lighten the mood a little.”
“Yeah, well, maybe save the jokes for when we’re not up to our knees in oil.”
Antonio, working a few feet away, straightens up, his gaze settling on me. “Hey, buddy. We’re all doing what we can. Just relax.”
“I don’t need to relax. I need you guys to get it together. We’re not here for a casual day out—we’re here to clean this shit up.”
Patrick sighs, exchanging a look with Liam, who’s been working quietly beside him, before looking at me. “You’re acting like an ass. What’s really going on?”
“I told you, I’m fine,” I insist, shoveling harder, each motion more aggressive than the last.
Every time I think of Blake, every time I think about the fact it’s over, something claws at my insides, tearing me open. But I’m not going to tell fucking Patrick of all people that.
“Yeah, well, snapping at us isn’t going to make the oil go away faster.” Patrick’s tone is more pointed. “We’re a team. Act like it.”
“I don’t need a lecture from you!” Heat rises in my chest.
Patrick’s eyes narrow, his jaw tightening. “You think this doesn’t suck for us, too? We’ve all got places we’d rather be.” He takes a step closer, his voice low but charged. “Stop making it harder for the rest of us.”
The tension between us crackles, both of us staring at one another, but then Liam steps in between us, hand firm on my shoulder. “Alright, enough. Come on.” He pulls me back, steering me away from the group as I grit my teeth, fists clenched. Once we’re far enough, he turns to face me, his gaze steady. “What’s going on, man? This isn’t just about the cleanup. Talk to me.”
For a moment, I consider firing back, but Liam is faster: “Look, you’re not doing anyone any favors today. Whatever it is, we’re here if you need us, but you gotta pull yourself together.”
His words finally cut through the haze clouding my mind. He’s right. Bandit catches my eye from where he’s still watching me from the bank, and the weight of the shovel in my hands suddenly seems heavier, like it’s connected to all the tension I’ve been carrying.
I take a deep breath and the emotions subside a little, replaced by a clarity I’ve been missing. These guys are my team, my brothers. If I keep going the way I’m going, I’m no better than the person Blake accused me of being—controlling and overbearing.
And I’m not that person. I’m just a guy foolish enough to fall in love.
Dropping the shovel to my side, nodding at Liam, a silent acknowledgment that I’ve heard him, that I’m trying to pull myself out of this.
“Do you want to talk about what’s actually going on? ‘Cause I know this sure as hell isn’t about the fact we’re still out here cleaning oil.”
“Nah, I’m fine.”
Liam gives me that knowing look, the one he’s perfected after years of dealing with my crap. “Uh-huh.” He stares at me for a long moment. “This is about Blake, isn’t it?”
I swallow, the words catching in my throat. I don’t want to get into it, but I know Liam’s not going to drop it. “We broke up,” I say, staring at the wetlands, my voice flat.
Liam raises his eyebrows, clearly surprised. “Shit. I thought you two were solid.”
“Yeah, so did I.” I run a hand through my hair, the familiar tightness in my chest. “I messed up. Tried to fix things my way, and it blew up in my face.”
Liam stays quiet, letting me talk, his eyes focused on me but not pushing. It’s something I appreciate about him—he listens when it counts.
“I set up this lunch, you know? Tried to get her moms to sit down with us so we could show her how we’re all here for her. Thought I was helping. Like maybe if I fixed that, everything else would fall into place.”
Liam remains quiet, and I tell him about what happened after Blake arrived at the lunch, a little about the other fights we’ve been having. As I speak, a realization starts to dawn on me, a weight lifting off my chest only to be replaced by a different kind of pain—one that’s even more unbearable.
I wanted to fix our relationship, to make her see that she didn’t have to handle it all on her own. But I never stopped to think about what she actually needed.
My voice trails off and I stare at the ground. Saying what happened out loud, processing it all in the face of Blake leaving me… the penny finally drops, and everything becomes painfully clear. All this time, I’ve been so focused on protecting her, on being the one who could save her, that I didn’t see what I was really doing.
If I wanted her to let me in, I should have held back, let her break down those walls from the inside out with patience and time, rather than me trying to smash them down with a sledgehammer, determined that she opened up to me.
Liam finally breaks the silence, confirming everything I’ve just been thinking. “I get it. You’re used to being the guy who can sort everything out. But not everything needs fixing—at least not like that. Sometimes you’ve gotta let people handle their own shit, even if it’s hard to watch. Especially a woman like Blake.”
I look away. “I really screwed this up.”
Liam claps me on the shoulder, his grip firm. “Look, we could all see how much she loved you. Maybe there’s still a chance to make things right. Show her you get it, don’t tell her. I reckon you’ve still got a shot if you play it right.”
“Yeah, maybe. I just hope it’s not too late.”
A hint of humor creeps into Liam’s voice. “Well, one thing’s for sure. Being an asshole and wallowing in your own misery isn’t going to fix things.”
The tension eases just a little. “Yeah, no shit. Thanks, man.”
Liam gives me a last pat on the back before stepping away. “Anytime.” He glances over his shoulder at the others. “Come on, let’s finish this up.”
“Just give me a minute.”
“No worries.” Liam grins at me, then heads back to the boys.
Once I’m alone, I glance at the sky, making a silent vow: if there’s any way of getting Blake back, I’m going to find it. But this time, I’m going to be there for her however she needs me.
Blake has this way of making people feel seen and heard, of offering her support without overshadowing them, without trying to solve their problems for them. She never swoops in wanting to be a hero, instead, she’s more like an anchor, holding people steady while they find their own way.
True support like that doesn’t mean taking the reins, doesn’t mean stepping in and fixing things just because a person can.
Blake never needed me to fix anything . She just needed me. And if there’s a chance to get her back, I’ve got to try.
I head over to where the boys are working and throw myself into the cleanup, losing myself in the rhythm of shoveling oily dirt, slowing my thoughts down, stopping myself from spiraling. The pain of losing Blake is still there, but now it’s tempered by a little wedge of hope.
We keep working until dusk, then head home as the sun starts to set. As I drive away from the wetlands, the weight of what I need to do settles over me, but this time, it’s grounding, leading me in what I hope is finally the right direction.