Chapter 15 #2
Lydia wrapped her hands around her coffee mug, drawing warmth from the ceramic. “It’s been a difficult few days. My ex-husband showed up last night. At Ethan’s house. He was—” She stopped, not wanting to get into details with the kids right there. “It wasn’t good.”
“I’m sorry,” Michael said, and it sounded like he genuinely meant it. “That must be frightening.”
“It is.” Lydia took a sip of coffee, letting the bitter heat ground her. “I thought moving here from Ohio would give us a fresh start. Get away from all the … the complications. But he followed us. Somehow he tracked us down and now—” Her voice wavered. “Now I don’t know what to do.”
Michael was quiet for a moment, watching her with those calm blue eyes. “Tell me about Ohio,” he said finally. “What was life like before you came here?”
And somehow, even though Lydia was usually guarded about her past, she found herself talking after sending the kids to go play in the cafe’s toy corner.
About the last two years in Ohio, about Tom’s drinking after he lost his job, about the DUIs and the fear and the constant worry.
About filing for divorce and getting sole custody and trying to keep the kids safe while Tom spiraled further down.
The story came in fits and starts, jumping around as memories surfaced in no particular order.
She talked about Eli sleeping with a baseball bat under his bed because Tom would come by and yell at them from the street.
About Rosie having trouble in class because she was so stressed.
About the restraining orders that didn’t seem to matter, the police who couldn’t help until Tom actually violated the order, the feeling of being trapped with no way out. Waiting for something worse to happen.
Michael listened without interrupting, without trying to fix anything or offer platitudes.
He just listened, his attention complete and genuine, even when her story didn’t make sense, or she backtracked to explain something she’d skipped over.
The stuff she had talked with Ethan about, but found herself revealing more of the embarrassing details after peering around to make sure no one could overhear.
“And then my great-aunt died,” Lydia continued, “and left me the farmhouse here. It seemed like a sign, you know? Like maybe this was our chance to start over. So I packed up the kids in the middle of the night and drove straight here without telling anyone where we were going.” She laughed bitterly. “For all the good that did.”
“You were protecting your children,” Michael said gently. “That takes courage.”
“Does it? Because it feels more like running away.” Lydia stared down at her coffee. “And now I’ve dragged Ethan into it. Put him in danger. Disrupted his whole life with my mess.”
“Ethan seems quite capable of making his own choices,” Michael observed.
“I know, but—” Lydia stopped, realizing she’d been about to launch into another explanation of how wonderful Ethan was, how he’d helped them, how grateful she was. “I’ve been talking about him a lot, haven’t I?”
Michael’s smile was knowing. “A bit.”
“It’s just … he’s been so kind. So generous.
And I’m terrified I’m relying on him too much.
” Lydia wrapped her hands tighter around her mug.
“What if I’m just … what if these feelings aren’t real?
What if it’s just gratitude, or the holidays, making everything seem more romantic than it is?
The kids need stability, not me jumping into something because I’m lonely and scared. ”
“Do you think your feelings aren’t real?” Michael asked.
Lydia opened her mouth to say yes, that’s exactly what she thought, but the words stuck in her throat.
Because that would be a lie, wouldn’t it?
When Ethan smiled at her, when his hand found hers, when he kissed her like she was something precious?
Those feelings were real. Terrifyingly, overwhelmingly real.
“I don’t know,” she whispered instead. “I don’t know what’s real anymore.”
“Perhaps that’s something to explore rather than run from,” Michael suggested.
Before Lydia could respond, Eli ran up to the table. “Mom? Can we buy some candy canes to hang on the tree?”
He pointed to the cafe tree.
“I should get the kids home,” Lydia said abruptly, unnerved by the direction her thoughts were taking. “The groceries are in the car.”
“Of course. It is safe to head home now.” Michael stood when she did, ever polite.
“Thank you for the coffee. And Lydia?” He waited until she looked at him.
“Don’t be afraid to accept help. Sometimes the bravest thing we can do is let someone care for us when we need it.
You will find your opportunity to do something in return. ”
The words followed her all the way home, echoing in her mind as she drove through the gray afternoon.
Don’t be afraid to accept help. But that was exactly what terrified her.
That she’d lean too hard, take too much, become so dependent that she forgot how to stand on her own.
That … she would never be able to repay the debt.
Ethan’s truck was in the driveway when they pulled up, which meant his shift had ended early. Lydia’s stomach clenched with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety as she helped the kids carry in the grocery bags.
He was in the kitchen, still in his paramedic uniform, looking tired but smiling when he saw them. “Hey, I’m just here to shower and eat before I go back out. How was the store?”
“Fine,” Lydia said, setting bags on the counter. She pulled his credit card from her pocket and held it out. “Here. And I used it to buy coffee and milkshakes for the kids. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can access my accounts. Tomorrow, first thing, I’m going to the bank and?—”
“Lydia, it’s fine,” Ethan interrupted. “You don’t have to?—”
“Yes, I do.” Her voice came out sharper than she’d intended. “I can’t keep taking advantage of your generosity. I need to start paying my own way.”
Ethan’s expression shifted, something careful coming into his eyes. “You’re not taking advantage. I offered?—”
“Because you’re kind. Because you felt sorry for us.” Lydia was unpacking groceries now, her movements jerky and agitated. “But I’m not a charity case, Ethan. I can take care of myself and my kids. I just need to get access to my money and then I’ll?—”
“I never said you were a charity case.”
“You didn’t have to say it!” Lydia slammed a carton of milk down on the counter harder than necessary.
“It’s obvious, isn’t it? You have your life completely together.
Nice house, stable job, everything in its place.
And then we show up and bring chaos and danger and my drunk ex-husband threatening to burn down your house?—”
“Lydia—”
“No, let me finish.” She turned to face him, feeling tears threaten but refusing to let them fall.
“You’ve been amazing. Truly. But I can’t keep doing this.
Can’t keep taking and taking when I have nothing to give back except more problems. You deserve better than that.
Than a hot mess of a divorced mother whose ex might have tried to kill them all. ”
“Don’t do that,” Ethan said, his voice quiet but firm. “Don’t minimize yourself. Don’t act like you’re not worth?—”
“Worth what? I’m not worth the trouble, Ethan. That’s just reality.” Lydia’s hands were shaking. “And I need to face it. I need to get my life together, find a place of my own, stop imposing on you, earn my own way?—”
“You’re not imposing.”
“YES, I AM!” The words burst out louder than she’d intended.
“I’m living in your house, using your electricity, eating your food, sleeping in a bed that should have been for your children with Sarah!
I’ve brought Tom to your door, put you in danger, and disrupted your entire life. How is that not imposing?”
Ethan just looked at her, his expression maddeningly calm, and somehow that made it worse. Made the differences between them even more stark. He could stay composed when she was falling apart. Could be reasonable when she was spiraling. Could be everything she wasn’t. Stable, together, in control.
“I appreciate everything you’ve done,” Lydia continued, her voice breaking. “I do. But I can’t … I can’t keep being this burden on you. It’s not fair.”
“Let me decide what’s fair for me,” Ethan said.
“That’s not how this works!”
“Then how does it work, Lydia?” For the first time, she heard an edge in his voice. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re looking for excuses to push me away. To convince yourself that you’re not worth caring about, that you don’t deserve help, that you need to do everything alone.”
The accuracy of it stung. “That’s not … I’m not …”
“Aren’t you?” Ethan took a step closer. “You’ve been through hell.
Your ex-husband is dangerous. You lost your home.
You’re scared and overwhelmed and trying to protect your kids.
But instead of letting people help you, you’re pushing them away because you think you have to handle everything yourself. ”
“I DO have to handle it myself!” Lydia’s voice cracked. “Because that’s how it works! You can’t rely on anyone else because they always—” She stopped, realizing what she’d been about to say. They always leave. They always disappoint. They always turn into someone you don’t recognize.
Like Tom did.
“Not everyone is Tom,” Ethan said quietly, and the understanding in his voice made her want to scream.
“I know that,” she said, but it came out uncertain.
“Do you? Because it seems like you’re waiting for me to become him. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for proof that you were right to not trust anyone.”
“That’s not—” Lydia pressed her hands to her face, feeling the tears finally spill over. “I’m just trying to protect my kids. To protect you. To not—” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “To not destroy something good before it even starts.”
“By destroying it first yourself?” Ethan asked. “By pushing me away before I can leave?”