Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
ETHAN
I knew that leaving Chloe would get to me, but I honestly didn’t think it’d hurt this much.
I dragged myself home last night from the Sand Dollar, feeling as if I just slugged myself in the chest with my own hammer. How did things go south so damn fast that we couldn’t spend my last couple of days in Inner Shores together?
Frat Boy Steve. That’s how.
Thanks for ruining my last few hours with her, jackass.
Guilt presses on my sternum as I stare at the dawn light leaking through the shutters of my room at Mom and Dad’s.
It’s not Steve’s fault I live in Philly, and I’ve got no right to try to take Chloe away from him anyway.
It’s only a matter of time before he, or some other lucky bastard, wins her heart.
Still, the second I stepped out of that bar last night, my hands were itching to drag her away from him and pull her back to me. To make her laugh. To bring that real smile to her face.
But even if I could, what would be the point? It’d only prolong the torture.
So I came back to the house, heated up a frozen pizza, and sat outside in the breeze with Kat, waiting for Chloe to come home so we could talk.
I’m kind of proud that I didn’t rush back to the bar to wrench Steve’s hands off her, or try to convince her to spend the evening with me instead. The part of me that used to think I had to have a hand in everything, to steer it in the direction I want it to go, feels like it’s weakened somehow.
If there’s anything Chloe’s taught me these past few weeks, it’s that some things can’t be steered.
Especially her.
But that didn’t mean I didn’t sit up late, hoping I could catch her for a talk.
There are so many fucking things left unsaid between us.
I’m sorry for what I said at Mugs.
I don’t want this to be the end.
But I never heard a car pull up outside or even saw her lights switch on.
Every hour that passed left me sinking lower in my chair. When there was still no sign of her after midnight, I forced myself into bed.
As I laid there, still hoping my phone would ding with a message from her, I imagined her with Steve.
Laughing out loud, her blue eyes shining; leaning in to rest her cheek on his shoulder, the same way she had with mine.
Curling an arm around his back, her thumb stroking up and down his side, just like it had on me.
Going home with him.
My eyes closed against the burn.
I hadn’t cried over a girl since middle school, when Mia Santos broke up with me so she could hold hands with some boy from her church.
After I finally drifted off, morning came, and the first thing I did was check my phone.
Nothing from Chloe. Just a bunch of reminders popping up, and a few notifications. I swiped each one away with an annoyed flick, then deactivated most of my alarms.
Now, as the sun begins to rise, I’m pacing back and forth on the back deck. Kat watches from a curled-up position on a chair while I try to push down the growing panic.
Chloe’s an early riser, so as soon as I’d had a coffee, I went over there, trying to figure out how the hell I was going to say goodbye. But she wasn’t home, and neither was her car.
Maybe she’d come home late and was already up and out again. But even for Chloe, that would be early.
What if something bad happened to her?
What if Lola talked her into going late-night skinny-dipping and she drowned?
What if Lola’s boyfriend turned up with ’roid rage and accidentally clocked her in the head while swinging at someone else?
What if Willow decided to light some incense to “clear out my negative energy” and started a fire?
Where the hell is Chloe?
You know where she is, a voice in my head replies as I turn to face the restless, rolling waves.
Just because I think Steve is an insufferable dick doesn’t mean she does. Maybe she likes the “Let’s have pina coladas by the sea” vibes he gives off.
Would she really spend the night with another guy before I’ve even left town?
The pacing starts again, echoing the back-and-forth in my mind.
There’s no way she would…
But why wouldn’t she? Steve’s clearly known Chloe a lot longer than I have. They have history. Why wouldn’t she want to rekindle things between them? I’m leaving town, and he only just got here.
My phone stares at me from the chair beside Kat, and my fingers itch at my side, wanting to text her again. Just to see if she’s okay.
But I stop myself. I’m overthinking... panicking... going in circles. Again.
Occam’s Razor: the simplest answer is usually the right one.
And the simplest answer is that Chloe went home with someone last night: Steve or one of her girlfriends, it doesn’t even matter.
What matters is that she didn’t come home to me.
Take the hint, Ethan. It’s over.
It was over the moment it started, and you knew it.
The smart thing would be to head out now, then give myself a day at home to rest and recoup before I have to be back at work Monday.
Mom and Dad would be thrilled. Maybe I’d even have time to see Gray before the work week starts.
Twenty-four hours ago, I’d have given anything to make the clock go slower, so I could spend every last minute here with Chloe.
Now, time can’t move fast enough as I load the rest of the waste into my truck, fix the hinge on a loose cupboard door, and drill in a new towel rack because the old one was stupidly high.
I wipe my hands on a rag in the kitchen and stare out the new window, the ocean shimmering in the early-morning sun.
It’s a long drive back to Philly; the sooner I hit the road, the better.
Kat rubs against my leg, then swats at my shoelaces. I’d take her with me, but that would feel crueler than leaving her behind. She’s got way too much pep in her step to spend all day cooped up in my apartment by herself.
Luckily, she’s little enough to forget I ever existed. She’ll find someone new to terrorize.
I glance out toward Chloe’s quiet cottage and empty driveway, wishing I could forget as easily.
My heavy heart drops deeper in my chest as I send her one more lame message explaining that I came by, but she wasn’t there. Then I grab my keys and lock up for the last time.
I pause at the top of the stairs and then wander around to the back side of the deck. I can’t deny it—Inner Shores has given me a kind of peace I’ve never known before. Mom and Dad are going to love it here, and thanks to me, their house is safe.
I lift up my phone and snap a selfie with the renovated deck behind me.
Checking the photo, I frown at the screen.
Who the hell is that guy? My hair curls around my neck, scruff peppers my tanned face, and one side of my mouth quirks up in a half-smile.
Despite the shadow of heartbreak in my gaze, I look relaxed.
I text the pic to my family group chat with the caption, “Pretty nice digs… might move in.”
I consider sending the pic to Chloe, but I shove my phone into my pocket instead. Surely two unanswered messages is the limit before I start qualifying as a stalker.
Besides, it’s not like I’ll never see her again. At some point, I’ll come to visit Mom and Dad, and maybe I’ll be lucky enough to run into the girl next door.
Tears burn the backs of my eyes, but I brush the bastards away with the heel of my hand.
It’s better this way. A drawn-out goodbye would only hurt worse.
She’s made the choice to stay away, and I’m choosing to let her be.
There are only so many things that I can control, and Chloe has never been one of them.
At ten o’clock, I gather Kat onto my chest and set her on the seat beside me. Together, we pull out of the driveway.
My hand rests on her tiny back, my fingers weaving into her soft fur all the way to the shelter that Gray helped me find. Too soon, I’m turning into the parking lot, my heart busting inside my chest as I gather Kat into my arms and bring her out into the sunny day.
“You got a goodbye for me?” I ask, her fluffy legs dangling as I lift her close to my face.
She stares at me.
Jack shit. No reaction at all.
I love her anyway.
A smiley young woman who works at the shelter takes her from me, and I get halfway back to my truck before the tears start rolling down my cheeks.
I wipe my eyes and kickstart the engine, making a plan to grab lunch on the road once I’ve got Inner Shores in the rear-view mirror. Tuning the radio to my favorite news channel, I force myself to focus on the coverage and not the cute little coffee shop sailing past my window.
Don’t fall back in, Ethan. You’re a strong motherfucker. Stay that way.
This is how it has to be.
Every part of me tightens up anyway. I glance at the parking lot behind Mugs, scanning for Chloe’s yellow Volkswagen.
There it is—in her usual spot.
Dizzying relief whooshes through me. She’s at work. She’s fine. She didn’t drown in the sea last night after all.
But then a fist of iron punches me in the gut. She’s fine, and she never responded to my texts.
You’d think that would be enough to have me flooring it out of town without looking back.
But I have to clench the wheel so hard it almost snaps in two to keep the truck driving straight.