Chapter 13 #3
“That’s part of it. I need to be clearheaded, ready to respond if there’s a call.
” His eyes glazed over. “I also would never want to cause someone that much pain, Sarah’s and mine.
” He shook his head. “I’ve also seen what alcohol does to people.
I saw it in a lot with soldiers coming back from Kandahar.
The bottle becomes a crutch, and then it becomes a prison. It’s no way to live.”
He delivered the statement without judgment, just as fact.
It helped Lydia breathe easy.
Tom had always made her feel like she was overreacting about his drinking, like she was being controlling or unreasonable or nagging.
Ethan understood why it mattered, why it was worth leaving over.
“That means a lot to me,” she said softly. “More than you probably realize.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the Christmas lights casting their gentle glow, the snow falling steadily outside. Lydia was acutely aware of how close they were sitting, of Ethan’s hand still resting on her knee, of the way his eyes kept dropping to her mouth.
“Lydia,” he said, his voice low and rough. “I need to know … are you okay with this? With me?”
She knew what he was asking. Not just about the physical proximity, but about everything that was building between them. The attraction, the feelings, the dangerous, beautiful possibility of something more.
“I’m more than okay with it,” she whispered.
“I just feel like I’m taking advantage. You’ve been so generous, letting us stay here, taking care of us.
And now I’m—” She gestured helplessly between them.
“—feeling things I probably shouldn’t feel.
The situation makes it hard to sort through what is happening. ”
“You’re not taking advantage,” Ethan said firmly.
He shifted closer, his hand coming up to cup her face, his palms slightly rough against her skin.
“I want this. With you. Have wanted this since … probably since that first morning when you made breakfast and wore my shirt and looked more at home in my kitchen than I’ve felt in three years. ”
Lydia’s breath caught. “Ethan?—”
He kissed her.
Not desperate like before, when Tom’s phone call had sent them both into panic. This kiss was slow, deliberate, a question and an answer all at once. His lips were soft against hers, tasting of chocolate and cinnamon, and Lydia felt herself melting into him.
Her hands found his shoulders, solid and strong under her palms. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened, and Lydia made a small, broken sound that should have embarrassed her but didn’t.
It had been so long since she’d been touched with tenderness and affection.
But even as she lost herself in the kiss, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered that this was dangerous. That she was getting in too deep, too fast. That she was living in his house with nowhere else to go, and if this went wrong, where would she and her children end up?
Ethan must have felt her tense because he pulled back, breathing hard, his eyes dark with concern.
“What’s wrong? I don’t want you to feel pressured.”
“I don’t,” Lydia interrupted. “I want this. I want you. I just—” She closed her eyes, trying to find the words. “I’m scared. This feels too good to be true. What if I mess it up somehow? I’m not … I might be too broken for someone like you.”
“You’re not broken,” Ethan said fiercely. “You’re brave. You’re doing everything you can to protect your kids and build a life for them. Nothing broken about that, Lydia. That’s beautiful.”
The tears came again. Her heart was full from the overwhelming sense that this man saw her as someone whose struggle mattered, whose fight was brave and beautiful.
“I haven’t felt like this in a very long time,” she admitted. “I haven’t let anyone in for I don’t even know how long, but you—” She looked up at him, letting him see the vulnerability in her eyes. “You make me want things I thought I’d given up on.”
“Like what?”
“Being treated with tenderness. You make me feel like maybe—” She took a breath. “—like maybe I could have something good again.”
Ethan kissed her again, softer this time. “You deserve good things,” he murmured against her lips. “You deserve everything good.”
They kissed for a long time. They both understood that this was enough. There was no rush.
Finally, reluctantly, they pulled apart. Lydia’s lips felt swollen, her heart thrumming, but she also felt … content. Happy, even, in a way she hadn’t been in years.
“I should probably go to bed,” she said, not moving from the circle of his arms. “Before I lose all my good sense and do something we’ll both regret in the morning.”
Ethan laughed, the sound low and rough. “I wouldn’t regret it.”
“Maybe not,” Lydia agreed. “But I want to do this right. Whatever this is. I don’t want to rush it just because—” She gestured vaguely. “—because we’re both lonely and scared and the Christmas lights are pretty.”
“Fair enough.” Ethan pressed a kiss to her forehead. “But for the record? I’m not lonely when you’re here. I’m the opposite of lonely.”
Lydia smiled against his chest, breathing in his cedar scent one more time. “Neither am I.”