Chapter 9 Midnight Chats
A fter a long but not terribly unsuccessful night at the bar, I arrived home with sore feet and a ravenous appetite.
The clock read after midnight, and all I really wanted to do was flop down in bed with a large alfredo pizza and eat until the carbs eventually put me to sleep. Alas, I didn’t have any pizza in the house and didn’t know of any places nearby that delivered past midnight.
All I had in the house to eat that was mine was ice cream, veggies, and a half-eaten bag of kettle chips.
The house was dark and everything in it quiet as I walked past my bedroom and into the kitchen. My fingers pressed on the light switch above the stove, illuminating enough of the room in a soft glow so I could at least see where I was going.
I’d just closed the door to the refrigerator after grabbing out my bag of baby carrots and the ranch dressing when a door opened and shut somewhere in the house. I perked my head up and in the noise’s direction, expecting to see Monica coming around a corner.
Instead, my heart dropped straight through to my stomach and exploded panic through the rest of my body as he came into sight.
The weight of my embarrassment from earlier in the day dragged my stare to the floor in seconds flat. My anxiety spiked and spun me around towards my midnight snack on the counter before he got out his first word.
“Hey, I heard you just get home from work. How was it?”
“Fine.”
This sucks. This sucks. This sucks.
I hoped I wouldn’t have to see him for a few days if I was strategic enough, but here I was, less than twelve hours later with the perpetrator himself.
“Good.” His voice was softer than usual, and if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of unease sitting below the surface of his tone.
“You have an easier time with the drinks after we practiced some of them?”
I nodded, but stayed facing the sink. “I did.”
The crunch of a baby carrot between my teeth was the only sound in the room for the next several seconds.
The surrounding air loaded up with a palpable tension that stuck to my skin like sweat the longer the silence between us lingered.
It was too much. Being here with him, knowing what he heard, was too much to handle.
“I’m just gonna get some water and take this all back to my room.”
Looking towards the high up cabinets that held the cups, I momentarily considered forgetting about the water completely, but changing my mind in a split second would look like I was just trying to get out of there as fast as possible.
Even if that was the truth, I didn’t need Ethan knowing that.
Opening up the cabinets, I hadn’t even reached for a cup yet before Ethan butted himself into the situation.
“Here, let me get that.”
An irritated grumble vibrated my throat as Ethan crowded the space where I was standing, forcing me to stumble back a few steps to keep the space between us.
“I could’ve done it,” I huffed.
Reaching his arm up and retrieving a cup from the highest shelf, he chuckled lightly. “This kitchen wasn’t really designed for shorties.”
“I’m not short,” I quickly defended. “I’m five seven and a half. That’s three inches taller than the normal American woman.”
Holding the cup out to me, Ethan looked down on me with speculation. “Yeah, but isn’t Monica around 5’9”-5’10”?
Snatching the cup out of his grip, I responded under my breath. “Something like that.”
“If you ask me, you’re both short.”
“Yeah, well not all of us can be like nine feet tall.”
“Close,” he began, that customary arrogance back in his voice. “I’m 6 ‘3’, but it’s good to see how spot on you are with your guesstimating.”
Chagrin sawed my teeth together as I kept my gaze trained on the ground. He was just trying to get a rise out of me of which I would not give him. I kept my mouth shut and turned with the cup in my hand, filling it up at the sink.
“Thank you for the cup.” Water in hand, I grabbed my carrots and the bottle of ranch dressing. “I’m gonna head to bed now so—”
“Look, I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier,” he spoke suddenly.
Upset pinched my eyes closed as he introduced the one topic between us that I never wanted to speak of into the air. I didn’t want to talk about what happened earlier with him or anyone ever.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Denial. Solid strategy.
A curt sigh came from behind me.
“The batteries comment.”
I’d give anything at that moment for ten seconds of invisibility. That wasn’t asking a lot. Just ten seconds to disappear from this conversation and run away from Ethan until we both forgot this morning ever happened.
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” I lied.
“Then why can’t you look at me?”
Inside, I was holding in the most frustrated groan a person could muster. On the outside, I had to pretend as if everything was peachy keen by turning around and bringing myself face to face with him.
“See? Everything’s fine.”
In return, his eyebrows dipped together with sincerity drawn through them both that stretched out into his stare. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just assumed you were okay with that kind of joking.”
Somehow his apology made that uncomfortable ache in my stomach worsen.
“It’s really not a big deal.”
Ethan sighed into himself, his eyes moving across my body. “Alice, you’re still visibly uncomfortable that I heard you this morning.”
As if on cue, I forced the muscles in my neck and shoulders to relax, shaking away any of the visible tension he claimed was there.
“If you think I’m so uncomfortable, then why bring it up again?”
“To apologize. This is your house too now, and I don’t want you feeling weird in it just because we have paper-thin walls and I have an inappropriate sense of humor. I’m just not used to being around someone who’s so sensitive about sex. But I’ll get better, I promise.”
My eyes ripped up from where they were on the floor, pinning themselves to Ethan’s with a quick fire exploding through my veins.
“I’m not sensitive about sex. I’m sensitive about my sister’s fiancé hearing me do… that . And I think that’s perfectly fair.”
“It is.” He nodded, holding his hands up towards me, and seemed genuine in his words. “It totally is. But you can’t claim that you’re not sensitive talking about sex and then not be able to say the word masturbate in the same sentence.”
“Just because I didn’t say the exact word doesn’t mean I’m sensitive talking about it,” I snapped back.
He shrugged his shoulders before crossing his arms together over his chest.
“Then say it.”
Annoyance ran my eyes over with an outrageous roll. “We’re not doing this game again.”
“Fine, but everyone gets off. It’s nothing you should be ashamed of.”
“I don’t need you to tell me that!” My whisper was harsh as I exploded at him, every built up tension from this morning and from this conversation clustering together in one giant self-implosion.
“I know people do that. I did it just this morning. I just—” I sighed, dropping my head into my hand and covering up the embarrassment licking across my face. “It’s just been a while, okay?”
A few silent seconds passed before Ethan spoke again.
“A while as in…?”
I wanted to stop this conversation five minutes ago.
I wanted to stop it before it even started.
My room was calling me and so was the sweet, sweet bedroom door that I could hide behind.
It was like even the house could feel how uncomfortable I was, the walls all looking down on me with pity and whispering words of encouragement to run back to where it was safe.
I couldn’t do that though. Not after making such a big fuss about not being sensitive talking about sex. Before my break up, I truly wasn’t uncomfortable talking about anything sexual. I’d been having sex since I was 17 and it wasn’t that big a deal to me until now.
Until being cheated on.
Not being good enough for someone as a whole could be potentially devastating to a person’s confidence. Not being good enough for someone physically and sexually to the point that they go out and find another person to take that place for you?
A fatal blow to my ego that had probably crippled it for good.
“As in…” I paused, the word loading up with significance behind my lips as it tipped from my tongue. “Sex.”
Ethan nodded slowly as he absorbed the information, the totally inappropriate information that he had no business knowing and yet, here I was giving him the hot gossip.
“I kinda got that.” He moved himself over further into the kitchen and leaned back on the counter behind him, eyeing me from across the room. “I meant how long.”
A laugh sputtered right past my lips. “I’m not telling you.”
“A month?” he guessed, ignoring what I’d just said.
All I did was shake my head in response.
Ethan’s dissecting gaze lifted into the air, roaming around musingly as he positioned his hand beneath his chin, his pointer finger tapping thoughtfully against his pale pink lips.
He reminded me of the famous statue, The Thinker.
Just as chiseled and captivating as he pondered over my lack of sexual escapades.
“Your break up was… three months ago, right?”
“About.”
“So, three months then,” he answered with confidence. “That’s definitely a good chunk of time to go without.”
I remained silent in the face of his assumption, wondering if I should correct him or if I should just let him think three months was all it was. Though, in between the time of me considering how to answer him, both options were ripped away from me.
“Shit, it’s longer than that?”
Groaning, I spun back around to the countertop, picking up a carrot and snapping it in two between my teeth. Munching as fast as my fingers tapped against the granite-made counter, I tried to quell my throbbing heart and just breathe through the awkwardness of this entire interaction.
“Four months?” The growing disbelief in his tone was not helping anything. Unwilling to speak at that moment, knowing my voice would crack with shame, I merely shook my head.
“ Five months? ”
Shoving another carrot in my mouth, regret washed through me from head to toe at ever stepping foot into this kitchen as I answered. “And some change.”
“Holy shit,” he cursed. “You weren’t kidding. That’s a long time.”
“Your judgment is super appreciated.”
“I’m not judging.” He jumped on my last comment pretty quickly, obviously trying to correct his rude response. “I’m just…” He exhaled loudly behind me. “I don’t think I’ve gone nearly half a year without having sex since I was a freshman in college.”
Swallowing down my carrot, I picked up another between my fingers before turning around to face him.
“Yeah, well it’s a lot easier when you’re in a happy, committed relationship, okay?”
“But you were in a relationship for two out of five of those months.”
“I said a happy and committed relationship. Jonah and I were neither of those in the end.”
Ethan’s eyebrows creased shadows across his face as they dipped just slightly, and I realized then that if Monica hadn’t told him before, this was the first he was hearing I’d been cheated on. Any minute now, I was sure I’d see the required pity in his eyes.
“Not everyone can be as happy as you and Monica all the time,” I continued, changing the focus from me to him.
He let out the smallest, strangest chuckle, and left me staring at his profile as he turned his head to the side, sending his gaze off to the dark corner of the kitchen. “You and I must have two different definitions of happiness.”
“What do you mean?”
Ethan parted his lips to speak, but nothing came out. I watched his dimly lit silhouette as he took a deep breath, still keeping the look in his eyes to himself and the corner of darkness where he stared.
“Nothing really. Just—” He stopped himself, pausing for several seconds and leaving me hanging in slow agony for his next words.
“You know how Monica is with work. It gets most of her time and focus.” His voice was so smooth against the quiet of the kitchen, riding along the atmosphere like a gentle song.
“That’s how she’s always been. Work is her real true love.”
I tried to laugh off the last bit of what I’d said, and Ethan cracked a small smile, but it faded quicker than it appeared.
“Yeah. It’s not exactly fun being second best all the time.”
Then we were both left to the silence between us. Me, looking at him and him, looking at nothing.
I felt a strange intimacy in the way we were in that very moment—both of us opening ourselves up just enough to blur the lines of what was acceptable to say.
Both of us would surely bluster if Monica walked in right now, but it felt nice to have someone to talk to who wasn’t giving me pity for what happened with Jonah, but a raw conversation about more .
Still, it was late and I needed to get to bed.
“All right, I’m gonna head to bed for real this time.”
I walked past Ethan over to the fridge, putting my midnight snack away. Ethan hadn’t moved from his spot against the edge of the counter yet.
Turning back over my shoulder to tell him goodnight, the word got trapped in my throat as my eyes fell on a silent Ethan. He wasn’t looking at me. He wasn’t looking at anything really.
But in his eyes, I saw everything.
What I saw shot a bullet of intrigue right through my heart, and I had to stop myself from asking what it was that put that despairing look in his breathtaking eyes. It wasn’t my place to ask, after all.
“Goodnight.”
Like I’d shaken him from a trance he wasn’t aware he was in, he blinked a few times before finding me in the soft hue of light that allowed us to see each other. Ethan nodded just once, his mouth drawing thin before he spoke.
“Night, Alice.”
And I left back to my room, doing my very best not to think on what that peculiar look meant that drowned out the normal beauty I’d become acquainted with in his eyes.