Chapter 17 - Maren
Maren
I raised my hand to knock, hesitated, and then knocked again, quieter this time, as if the second tap might somehow be less intrusive.
“Come in,” Ethan’s voice called from inside his office, calm, measured, but the undercurrent of tension made my stomach twist.
I stepped in, scanning the familiar expanse of his brown leather couch, the neat lines of his office, the dim evening light casting long shadows across the floor. He looked up from the stack of papers he’d been half-reading, his expression softening just enough to make my resolve waver.
“Hey,” I said, my voice a little tighter than I’d meant.
“Hey, yourself,” he replied, standing and moving toward me. There was that casual ease he always carried, but he had a way of studying me that made it feel like he was aware of everything going on in my head.
I sank into the couch, folding my hands on my lap, and Ethan sat beside me. His hand found its way onto my leg, just above the knee, light enough but grounding. A connection that was intimate without words. And that intimacy made the knot in my stomach lurch and tumble.
“You’ve been quiet all day,” he said, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand. “Is this the part where you tell me about it?”
I drew in a slow breath, trying to line up the words in my head without tripping over them. “I… I got an email last night. From the principal of the school I used to work at.”
The curiosity in his eyes clouded over to resemble the feeling I’d been trudging around with all day. Not fear exactly, but not not fear. I didn’t know what it was, and after coming up empty despite my best efforts, I’d hoped talking to him might give me the clarity I needed.
I searched his eyes for it and after a few seconds, chuckled softly. Because of course it wouldn’t be that easy.
“They’re offering me a job.” My voice was quieter than intended.
He blinked, then shifted slightly, pulling his hand back from my leg as he adjusted his position on the couch so there was more space between us. The subtle retreat pressed something tight inside me. A little pang of recognition that this wasn’t just about a job.
“Oh,” he said finally, keeping his tone neutral, but the pause stretched long enough for me to feel the tension coil.
And he wasn’t looking at me anymore.
“It’s… at a new private school. They’re looking for a kindergarten teacher.” My hands fidgeted with the edge of my sweater. “It’s exactly the kind of opportunity I’ve been waiting for. It’s… it would get me back on track. Back to the life I had planned.”
He nodded, but the change in his posture made me wonder if he was measuring his words, or maybe just measuring me.
“What are you asking me, Maren?” he asked finally, and the question wasn’t just about the job.
I laughed, a little humorless, trying to shake the gravity off. “I don’t know if I should take it. I mean, it’s what I’ve been working toward, obviously. What I’ve wanted. But I keep thinking about… everything else.”
He leaned back slightly, the leather creaking beneath him, his gaze back on me but his body speaking a language that instantly set me on edge.
Distance. Retreat. A subtle reminder that we weren’t just two people talking about careers.
That unspoken line between ‘what we had’ and ‘what I was about to walk back into’ was hovering over us, invisible but undeniable.
“If you’re referring to this job—”
“I’ve been thinking about it all day. I keep running it in loops in my head. The pros, cons, the kids. And… you.” My words stumbled into the space between us, raw and unguarded.
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly as though he were trying to map my thoughts. “Maren, you have a degree in education. Like you said, it’s what you’ve worked for. What you planned.”
I nodded, silent for a moment. His unexpected calmness made the choice loom larger, heavier, more urgent. He wasn’t giving me anything about how he really felt. His walls went up the second I mentioned the email.
I swallowed, trying to steady my voice. “I just don’t want to screw anything up. I’ve lost enough. Everything I thought I had under control.”
“Looks like you found something you can control,” he said. “It’s your plan. I won’t stand in the way of that. Do what you need to do.”
His words hit me like a sheet of solid ice. I’d expected support, maybe acknowledgement of how I felt—but not this. Not the cold detachment.
And that opened a door in me. A whole swell of emotion I hadn’t fully faced.
Frustration. Relief. Longing. And something darker, something sharp that twisted around the edges of my chest. It wasn’t just Ethan I was thinking about.
Miles. Adrian. How they had tangled themselves into my days, into the corners of my life I hadn’t realized were empty until they filled them.
I sat there feeling caught between the pull toward what I thought I should want, and what I didn’t even know I wanted.
My hands clenched lightly in my lap, stomach twisting.
The room felt smaller somehow, like the air had thickened with everything I didn’t know how to say, everything I hadn’t admitted, everything I’d tried to keep tucked away until I figured out which way to turn.
And there he was, calmly stating he wouldn’t stop me. Cold, precise. Not uncaring—far from it—but it made it all crash into me that much harder. Not just the reality of the job offer that would fix it all. But them. The question of what it was I really wanted. Who I was letting myself become.
I looked at him and realized that the calm detachment in his eyes was a challenge. Maybe even a dare. And it only made my heart pound harder, my chest tighten more, my thoughts spin faster.
I swallowed, feeling a mix of guilt, yearning, and sheer, dizzying uncertainty. This was bigger than a job. This was bigger than a plan. And he was making it seem like nothing. Like everything that had happened between us was… nothing.
A scream shattered the quiet enveloping us. We shared a look, and jumped up at the same time.
I bolted upstairs to the girls’ bedroom, my heart already in my throat. Emma’s eyes were wide, frozen in shock, but it was Sadie who had my full attention. She was crouched on the bed, clutching something furry against her chest.
“Look! Look what I found!”
I swallowed back a terrified squeak. A raccoon, squirming and chattering, its tiny claws scratching at the blanket Sadie had him wrapped in. My stomach dropped. Of course. Of course this would happen now. My calm, measured plan to talk to Ethan about the school offer evaporated in a single second.
“Sadie,” I said, trying to keep my voice even, “Sweetheart, we can’t keep it.”
“I don’t care! He’s mine! I’ll take care of him!” she insisted, gripping the raccoon tighter.
Ethan appeared behind me, hand on the doorframe, watching with that quiet intensity of his that made it impossible not to feel like the weight of the world was balancing on our shoulders.
“Maren…” he said, his tone low, a warning and a plea all at once.
I nodded. Okay. Team effort. We needed to diffuse this without a scratch. Or worse.
I crouched beside her, keeping my hands open and calm, speaking slowly. “Sadie, he’s not a pet, sweetie. He’s wild. He can get scared and bite. I don’t want him to hurt you.”
Her lower lip trembled. “But he’s so soft! And he’s lonely!”
Ethan stepped closer, his presence steadying in a way I hadn’t realized I was craving. “Maren’s right,” he said. “Your mom and dad aren’t gonna be too happy with me if something happens to you.”
“You’ll get in trouble?” she sniffled, and he nodded somberly, careful not to move too much in case he scared the little guy.
“We can watch him from outside, okay?” I coaxed gently. “Make sure he’s safe. And then we can come back and do something fun together. How about that?”
Emma, who had been silent until now, whispered, “I’ll help.” Her small hand found Sadie’s. “It’ll be fun.”
Sadie hesitated, and I felt Ethan’s hand lightly on my shoulder. A small touch, but massively moving in light of the conversation we were having in his office before this.
“Okay,” Sadie mumbled finally, relaxing her grip just enough for me to lift the raccoon carefully into a pillowcase, making sure it couldn’t escape. “Promise we’ll play with him again?”
“Promise,” I said with a relieved exhale, the tension in me shifting as the raccoon was released through the open window, scrambling back into the yard.
Sadie didn’t move from the bed. She crawled into my lap, tiny arms wrapping around me, and buried her face against my chest. I held her, heart pounding, feeling the strange mix of exhaustion and exhilaration that only this house could deliver.
My hands rested on her back, and I realized, in a rush, that this had become more than a job. I’d been drawn in. I’d let that happen.
Ethan cleared his throat softly, stepping back toward the doorway. “You’re good with her,” he said.
For some reason, it made me want to run. Where to, I didn’t know.
Sadie sighed, curling closer, and I ran my fingers through her hair. The weight of her trust pressed against me in a way that made my chest ache. I’d formed bonds with several kids over my years of teaching. The youngest were often the easiest to grow attached to.
But this was different.
Emma perched on the edge of the bed, grinning at us like she’d been keeping a secret for too long. “I think Uncle Ethan likes you.”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Oh?”
“In a girlfriend-boyfriend kinda way,” Emma clarified, eyes sparkling like she was letting me in on some grand mystery.