Chapter 46
Ethan
A week has passed since everything imploded with Blake, and I just miss her every second of every day. The world around me keeps moving—people going about their lives, the sun rising and setting, the tide rolling in and out—but it’s like I’m watching everything from behind a pane of glass, distant and disconnected.
I’ve thrown myself into working with the Valiant Hearts boys, trying to lose myself in the physicality of it, which has helped a little, and it looks like today’s our last day. Finally . When we left yesterday, the wetlands looked almost perfect, the last few patches of oil barely visible.
It’s early morning when I pull up beside Liam’s truck, and Bandit jumps out as soon as I open the door, sniffing around like he’s on a mission. He finds Mike’s dog, Barks, and the two dogs start chasing one another around.
Still sitting in the driver’s seat, I check my phone quickly. It’s taken all my willpower to only send Blake a couple of messages telling her I’m sorry about that clusterfuck of a lunch, and they remain read but unanswered.
I get out of the truck and shove the phone in my jean’s pocket, following Bandit toward the boys on the other side of a small group of trees. The wetlands stretch out around us, a mosaic of marshy grasses swaying gently in the breeze, the water shimmering under the early morning sun. Reeds rise from the shallow water, their golden tips catching the light, while a heron stands tall on one leg, its sharp eyes scanning the surface for a meal.
We come face to face with the boys, and they all turn to look at us. “Look who finally showed up!” Jake calls out, a grin on his face as he gives me a mock salute. “Did you get lost, old man?”
“All I’ll say is it takes one to know one, grandpa.”
Liam’s leaning against a tree, arms crossed as he looks at me. “Don’t let Jake get under your skin. He’s just bitter because he’s got two left feet. Saw him try to dance at the Tavern the other night. He looked like he was trying to swat a bee.”
Jake rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Whatever I was doing, it worked. The ladies were all over me.”
Patrick chimes in from where he’s quietly setting up the equipment. “Yeah, well, I heard Ethan’s got some new moves. Maybe he’ll give you a lesson, Jake.”
I bark out a laugh despite myself. “Not a chance. I think I’ve retired from the dance floor. It leads to nothing good.”
The others move to help Patrick set up, while Mike and Antonio walk closer to me, Mike giving me a solid pat on the back, his lumberjack beard looking wild and untamed. “You doing okay today?”
I shrug, not trusting myself to speak for a moment. “I’m getting by.”
Antonio’s usually bright eyes are a little more somber. “We’re here for you, buddy. We’ve all been there. We get it.”
Liam told the boys as soon as he found out Blake and I broke up, and the rest of Harbor’s Edge knew shortly after that. Someone in the restaurant must have let Dot McLellan know, because it seemed like pretty much the whole town knew within a day or two.
Mike nudges me with his elbow. “Just don’t take it out on us when we’re scraping up these last bits of oil, alright? Channel your anger into the shovel.”
I manage a smile, appreciating their efforts. “I’ll try to keep my temper in check. Can’t make any promises, though.”
Patrick stands next to the equipment—shovels, bags, and absorbent pads—and claps his hands together.
“Alright, enough talk. Let’s get this done so we can finally say goodbye to this place. Last day, boys. Let’s make it count.”
We all nod. We’ve been out here too many times to count, and it’s almost over. None of us are planning to slack off now. Bandit and Barks trot over, sniffing at the equipment before plopping down in a patch of sun, watching everyone work.
We pick up shovels and equipment, and spread out along the marshy edge, dropping the pads into the water, the bright white quickly darkening as they soak up the last of the oil. The sun climbs higher, the heat warming us as we dig the blackened earth, dumping it into bags.
Jake pauses for a drink, leaning on his shovel. “Hey, Antonio, you remember that time we got stuck out here ‘cause someone didn’t check the fuel gauge?”
Antonio shoots him a mock glare. “I told you, that wasn’t me. That was Mike.”
Mike raises his hands. “Hey, I’ll own up to a lot of things, but that wasn’t me.”
Laughter ripples through the group, but I know they’re being careful with their jokes for my sake, never crossing the line into anything that might hit too close to home.
Bandit gets up from his sunny spot where he’d settled down beside Barks, and follows me as I move around the wetlands, sniffing at the absorbent pads, looking up at me with those big, trusting eyes. As we work, there’s that connection, that unspoken understanding with the boys and Bandit: no matter what else is going on in our lives, we’re in this together.
But beneath it all, there’s still that gnawing emptiness, the hollow ache that Blake’s absence has left behind.
The sun climbs higher and finally, almost unbelievably, we’re done, the last of the oil-slicked dirt going into a bag. We take a moment to exchange fist-bumps and high fives before Patrick pulls out his phone.
“Mayor Roberts, this is Patrick O’Connor. Just calling to let you know the good news that we’re finally done.” He pauses, listening. “Okay, will do.” He terminates the call. “Mayor Roberts sends her personal thanks. We all did good, boys.”
There’s a sense of accomplishment in the air, and I catch a glimpse of a family of ducks gliding across the clean water, their reflections rippling in their wake. The afternoon sun casts long shadows over the shoreline, our conversation blending with the distant call of birds as we start to load the bags of oil-soaked dirt into the back of Mike’s truck.
We’ve nearly finished packing the equipment away when the sound of an engine reaches us. A moment later, the mayor’s black SUV pulls up, the vehicle coming to a stop just behind my truck. The door swings open, and Mayor Roberts herself steps out, balancing several boxes of pizza on one hand and holding a cooler in the other.
“Thought you boys could use some food!” She walks over to us, the smell of pizza wafting through the air, and I realize just how hungry I am. The guys stop what they’re doing, Patrick and Jake exchanging grins as they wipe their hands on their pants.
“Beer and pizza?” Patrick says. “Mayor, you’re spoiling us.”
She laughs, setting the boxes down in the back of my truck. “You’ve all earned it. I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done here. The town owes you big time.”
We gather around the cooler, popping it open to reveal bottles of cold beer. The mayor hands them out, and soon we’re all leaning against the vehicles, eating and drinking. The atmosphere is light, celebratory, and Bandit sits by my feet, tail thumping against the ground, happily accepting pieces of crust from everyone.
Once we’ve demolished the pizza, the mayor thanks us all again before climbing into her SUV and driving off, leaving us to pack up the last few shovels.
“You joining us at the Tavern later?” Mike asks, clapping me on the back. “We’re all heading there to raise a glass or ten. You deserve to blow off some steam.”
I can’t think of anything worse than having to watch Blake work without being able to kiss her, claim her as my own, but if I’m ever going to have the chance to show her I’m ready to be there for her the way she needs, I can’t avoid her forever. “I’ll be there.”
We finish, and after saying our goodbyes, Bandit and I jump into the truck and head home as the sun starts to dip below the horizon. The moment we get back, I feed Bandit and strip off my dirty clothes, stepping into the shower, hot water pounding against my skin, washing away the grime from the day. Soon I’m dressed, and I pause in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection, giving myself a pep-talk: it’s going to hurt like hell to see Blake, but not seeing her hurts even worse.
I park on Main Street and walk down the boardwalk toward the Tavern. The moon hangs low in the sky, casting a silver sheen on the water, and ahead, boats bob gently in the marina. I focus on them, finding the Freedom , looking at the shape of it rising and falling on the swell, steadying my nerves.
Approaching the Tavern, the sound of laughter and music reaches me. I take in the familiar sight of the place, the lights inside warm and inviting, but tonight they’re almost intimidating.
When I finally push open the door, the buzz of the place hits me full force. It’s busy, with locals and tourists alike mingling at the bar, the clatter of dishes and loud conversations rising over the speakers blasting Rhianna singing over and over about standing under her umbrella.
Blake’s behind the bar, her red hair catching the light as she moves, talking to a customer with that easy smile that will always make my heart stutter. She’s a vision, and for a second, I actually forget to breathe.
Watching her, unable to look away, the way she laughs at something Carlos says, the way she tilts her head when she listens, the way she moves—with a kind of fluidity and grace. And then, as if sensing my gaze, she looks up.
Our eyes meet, and it’s like the entire world stops spinning. The noise, the people, everything fades away, leaving just the two of us locked in a moment that’s bigger than time itself. My breath catches in my throat, and I see it in her eyes too—the same connection, the same pull that’s been there between us since this all started, like an invisible thread tying us together no matter how much distance there is between us.
A deep breath, trying to jumpstart my heart, trying to push past the emotions lancing through me, before walking toward her. She holds my gaze as I approach, and when I finally reach the bar, she still doesn’t break eye contact.
“Hey, you.”
“Hey.”
There’s a long pause. “I heard you boys finished at the wetlands. Congratulations. What can I get you?”
I clear my throat. “The usual, please.”
She turns to grab a glass before filling it with beer. When she hands it to me, our fingers brush, and it sends a jolt through me, a reminder of everything I’ve missed, everything I still long for.
“I’ll put it on your tab,” she replies, but even as she says it, she doesn’t move away. The bar is busy, people jostling for attention, but she stays there, close enough that I can catch the faint scent of her shampoo, strawberries and vanilla, the smell driving me crazy.
“How have you been?” My voice is soft, careful, like I’m testing the waters.
Blake hesitates for a moment, then shrugs lightly. “I’ve been okay. You know, taking it one day at a time.”
I force a swallow over the dry of my throat. “I know it’s too little too late, but I just wanted to say I’m sorry again… for everything. For the lunch, for how I handled things. I get it now, and I know I made a big mistake. A lot of big mistakes. I should have respected you more instead of thinking I knew best. If I could take it all back, I would.”
She looks at me, really looks at me. “Actually that lunch... it got my moms talking, finally. I didn’t think anything could do that, but you managed it.”
A bit of relief washes over me, but it’s bittersweet. I fight the urge to reach across the bar, to pull her close and kiss her, to tell her she’s still the most perfect woman in the world to me, that she always will be. That no one will ever take her place.
“I’m glad,” I say instead. “I’m really glad. And I’m still sorry.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.” Her smile falters, and she hesitates, glancing down at the bar before meeting my eyes again. “They’ve actually decided to get a divorce.” She says the last part quickly, like she’s bracing herself.
The second she says it, something inside me twists, the word divorce sending me spiraling back to my own past, to the mess of my family falling apart. An old familiar knot forms in my chest, the same one I’ve carried for years, but this isn’t about me. Blake’s family isn’t my family. I force myself to breathe, to focus on her, not on my own baggage.
“I’m really sorry, Blake,” I say, keeping my voice steady even though my mind is racing. “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now. I hope everything works out for the best, however that looks for you and them.”
She gives me a small nod, her eyes clouded with a kind of pain I recognize all too well. It hurts to see her going through this, and I want to do more, say more, but I hold back—it’s not my place anymore. “If you ever need to talk. I’m here, okay? Anytime. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
Blake offers me a small, genuine smile, and for a brief, precious moment, it feels like there could still be hope for us. But the moment passes, and she’s drawn back into the rhythm of the bar, called away by a customer waiting at the far end.
Watching her go, my heart heavy yet somehow lighter, a strange mix of emotions swirls inside me. Taking a sip of my drink, savoring the taste—I’ll carry this moment with me, this fragile, fleeting connection that hints at everything we might still be.
I find the boys upstairs on the roof terrace and share a couple of drinks with them, my thoughts a million miles away. I stay an hour or so before making my excuses and heading back to the truck. The dark interior welcomes me, and I sit there vaping, thinking about everything as the night lengthens and people filter out of the Tavern, the evening drawing to a close.
The boys leave, the last of the patrons filing out behind them. Soon the lights inside the Tavern flicker off and the door closes. Blake emerges, keys in hand, and I follow her with my gaze as she walks to her car.
My grip tightens on the steering wheel, but I stay put, watching until she’s safely inside her car and driving away. Only then do I start the truck, heading home alone.