Chapter 48
Blake
For a few seconds, I just stare at David, not sure what to do. Then Ethan shifts behind me, and all the things he’s been saying to me—about trusting others, about opening up—echo inside my mind, and I know in that instant David, who’s hurting so bad, thinking he’s all alone, is the one who needs to hear it.
“David,” I say, my voice steadying as I look at him, willing him to meet my eyes. “Look at me.”
His gaze flickers, avoiding mine for a moment before landing back on me.
My voice softens. “I know you’re angry. I know you’re hurting.” My heart still races, but I keep talking, my words stronger now. “I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you. Sylvia didn’t hurt me like she hurt you, but that doesn’t make what you’re saying less true. You and I are stronger than this, stronger than what Sylvia did to you. Let go of me, and we can figure this out together.”
For a moment, David’s anger seems to intensify, his grip tightening.
“I’m here for you. Always . Nothing will change that—even this, even you grabbing me when you know deep down it’s the wrong thing to do. Let me in, let me help you through this. We’re on the same side. We’ve known each other a long time, and you always looked out for me at Sylvia’s house. Let me look out for you this time. Please .”
He stares at me, and something shifts in his gaze, like he’s remembering all those promises we made to one another as kids. I just stand there, letting him see that I’m not leaving, that I’m not afraid of whatever big emotions he’s feeling.
And then his shoulders slump as the fight drains out of him, and he finally loosens his grip on my wrist. I don’t move, don’t step away, staying close, showing him that I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not when he needs me.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay,” I say gently, rubbing my wrist where his fingers left red marks. “We’ll figure this out. We always do.”
David nods weakly and takes a shaky breath, glancing at Ethan, who hasn’t moved. The three of us stand there, the night pressing in around us, the sky overhead pricked with stars.
I give David a reassuring look. “Hey. It’s going to be okay.”
He doesn’t respond right away, just keeps his gaze fixed on the ground. But then he looks up and meets my eyes, and there’s a glimpse of the boy I grew up with. “I’m sorry about before.” His voice is low, filled with so much pain. “Fuck! I just want to feel better about what Sylvia did.”
“I know,” I say softly, taking a step closer and placing a hand on his arm. His skin is cold to the touch, tension still tightening his muscles. I squeeze his arm gently. “Even if you didn’t find anyone else willing to speak up, we can still do something about it. You’re not alone in this, David. You’ve never been alone.”
He meets my eyes, and for the first time in a while, I see the boy I grew up with—the one who just needed to realize I’ve always believed in him.
“Come on,” I say softly, tilting my head toward the Tavern. “Let’s go in and get a drink so we can talk.”
Ethan steps closer, his movements careful, respectful of the fragile peace we’ve just found. David eyes him warily.
“Do you want me to stay?” Ethan’s unable to hide his concern.
Even though David’s calmed down, my wrist still hurts and the fear that lanced through me is still too fresh. That, and the fact Ethan’s holding back, letting me handle this, makes me want to say yes —he is being here just like I need him to be.
A glance at David. I’m briefly worried that having Ethan here might set David off again. But for once Ethan feels like a calming presence.
“Yes, please,” I say. “I think it’s better if you stay.”
David frowns at the fact I’ve said yes without asking him first, but he glances at the red marks on my wrist and looks ashamed before giving a small, reluctant nod, accepting Ethan’s presence.
The three of us head inside the Tavern, and I turn on the light over the bar, an oval of yellow within the deep shadows, before pouring three glasses of lemonade. Then we head up to the roof terrace, the water glimmering, rippling softly against the boats. Ethan sits across from me in silence, while David drums his fingers anxiously on the table, although he doesn’t seem as agitated as before.
Taking a seat on one of the black stools, I lean forward. “David, I know this isn’t what you wanted, but I’m here for you. We’ll find a way to hold Sylvia accountable. You’ve got people on your side—me and others who care about you, like the Reverend. We’ll help you figure this out, I promise.”
“You’ve got my support, too,” Ethan says quietly. “If you want it. No one should have hurt you, especially not an adult you trusted.”
David seems suddenly shy, looking more than ever like the skinny kid with plasters on his knees from our past. “Who’s going to listen to a bum like me? No one, that’s who.”
Ethan shifts in his seat, resting his forearms on the table. “Look, I haven’t been through exactly what you’ve been through, and I’m not going to pretend that I understand everything. But I do know what it’s like to grow up in a tough home. Well, two tough homes after my parents divorced. For a long time, I felt like I had to control everything. But here’s the thing: life doesn’t work like that. We can’t control everything, but we can control ourselves and what we do with what’s in front of us.”
David’s fingers, still drumming against the table, slow as he listens.
“Sometimes it feels like the world’s spinning out of control, like everything’s falling apart,” Ethan continues, “and trust me, I get that. But it’s in those moments that we’ve got to take small steps forward. Just one step at a time, even if it feels like the smallest thing. You came here tonight feeling out of control and look at you now… you took a small step, letting in a person who cares about you.”
He glances at me and I smile. This is just what David needed to hear.
Ethan looks back at David: “Trusting Blake, seeing through your own pain, that’s huge. No one ever got anywhere by standing still. Just keep moving forward toward your goal of getting justice.”
David’s gaze ticks between me and Ethan. For the first time tonight, he doesn’t look so lost, and his shoulders relax, the hard edge of his expression softening just a little.
“You really think I can do this?” David’s voice is quieter now.
“I do. The moment you start taking control of your own story, that’s when things change.”
David looks thoughtful now, his fingers stilling completely on the table as he absorbs Ethan’s words. Ethan glances at me and I nod: keep going .
“When you go to the authorities, that’ll be another small step forward,” Ethan says. “Your story matters, even without Blake’s or anyone else’s testimony. We can still make sure the truth comes out. You’ve just got to be willing to share what you know.”
I reach out and squeeze David’s hand. “Ethan’s right. Just be honest. Take that first step and go to the police. I’ll be right there with you.”
For the first time in a long time, David’s expression softens completely, the weight of his anger and pain easing, and my heart feels like it could float right out of my chest as I shoot a grateful look at Ethan. The three of us sit there talking through David’s next steps, brainstorming some of the roadblocks he might encounter like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
David eventually excuses himself, and as he walks away, he stands taller, and there’s a touch of hope in his expression that wasn’t there before. He’s still hurting, but he’s starting to see a way through the pain.
Once we’re alone, it hits me afresh just how big tonight was for me and Ethan. What he did, the way he held back, even though it was plain he was ready to tear David apart when he first arrived. It makes me think he really could change, and maybe there’s hope for us yet.
Ethan’s looking at me, his expression filled with quiet intensity. “I’m so proud of you. You’ve been there for David through all of this, never giving up on him.”
A flush of heat rises in my cheeks. “Thank you. And thank you for turning up when you did. You really helped me get the confidence to deescalate the situation. And thank you for being so kind to him, for the way you handled things tonight.”
“I won’t lie, I did it for you. But I still feel terrible for David. He’s had a rough go of it and he deserved better.” He leans in closer, so close we’re almost touching, the space between us suddenly charged. “You both deserved better.”
I’m staring at the plump of his lower lip, the stubble thickening on his jaw, my mouth suddenly dry.
The silence lengthens between us and Ethan swallows hard. “Look, I know things are over between us, but I also need you to know I’ll never stop loving you. I’ll wait as long as it takes, do whatever needs to be done to prove I’m trying to change, that I want to be there for you however you need me.”
My thoughts spin at his words, and after everything that happened tonight, after the restraint and empathy he showed, I seriously consider leaning into his wanting arms. But a voice inside my head reminds me this was just one night. One instance of Ethan showing up the way I need. I’d be a fool to invite him in straight away, no matter how much I want to be with him.
I lean back a little, expanding the space between us. “I care about you too,” I say, knowing I owe him the truth if nothing else. “But I’m not ready. I’m not ready to let you back in the way you want, not yet.”
His expression fills with understanding. “I know. And that’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait as long as it takes. I know you need your independence. I get it now, I really do. It just took losing you for it to finally sink into my thick skull.”
A bittersweet mix of emotions roil through me. “That means a lot. I want you in my life, but for now, as a friend.” I hold my breath, unsure of how he’ll take it, hoping he’ll understand.
“Then friends it is.”
He opens his arms and waits for me to nod, then closes the gap between us, pulling me into a hug, and I sink into his warmth. His scent—clean, with a hint of cedar and something so achingly familiar—wraps around me, grounding me, and the heat of his body seeps into my skin, soothing the last of the tension from tonight.
For a moment, I just enjoy the feel of him against me, and let out a breath, grateful for the space he’s giving me—and for not letting go.