28. Seismic Gap
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
SEISMIC GAP
Ethan
I’ve been staring at the same page for twenty minutes when a familiar rap sounds against my office door. Reid steps inside, carrying two pastry bags. He tosses one onto my desk before taking his usual seat.
“Morning.” My voice is flat.
“Morning to you too.”
Under normal circumstances, we’d exchange a few sarcastic comments before diving into the day’s crisis. After a few minutes of meaningless conversation he asks, “How was Seattle?” The question sounds innocent enough, but his tone puts me on edge.
“Fine.”
One of his eyebrow rises.
“It was a conference, so the usual. You know what they’re like.”
“Did you enjoy the keynote? The valedictorian of my graduating class, Kenneth Burnham, gave the speech. I think the title was ‘Architecture in a Changing Climate.’ Or am I remembering that wrong?”
“Absolutely. Burnham’s always been a powerful speaker. I thought his point about balancing sustainability with affordability was especially relevant.”
I lean back in my chair, fiddling with my computer mouse. “What’s going on, Reid? You sound funny?”
He crosses his arms, his gaze is furious. “My problem is that you’re my best friend, and you just lied straight to my face.”
“Reid.” My voice is a low warning.
“Burnham didn’t give the keynote. You should have covered your tracks better. You were never a decent liar, Ethan.” His voice is menacing. “I’ve spent the last twenty years watching you love your wife.”
I look away, unable to meet his eyes. “Don’t.”
“Look me in the eye and tell me there isn’t something going on with Brooke.”
My inability to do so gives him his answer. Disappointment flashes across his face. The recognition that this new version of me is a stranger to him.
I let out a slow breath. “How long have you known?”
“I suspected something, but I was hoping I was wrong. Then the rehearsals started, and you started talking about her all the time.”
My jaw locks, and I have to work it loose before I answer. “Stay out of it, Reid.”
“I was at The Blackthorn on Saturday night, and you know how that place is—every asshole with a story and a grudge. This guy at the bar, some ranch hand I’d never seen before, was bragging about the fundraiser like he’d personally bankrolled it.
Said his employer saw that ‘hot’ new teacher coming out of the tack room, straightening her dress, smoothing down her hair.
Like she’d been wrestling a horse, he said. Laughed about it for twenty minutes.”
“You don’t get to judge me.”
“You want me not to judge you?” His voice rises. “You’re cheating on your wife. And at the fundraiser?”
The words hit like a physical blow. “Lower your voice,” I whisper.
“Why?” He throws his hands into the air in exasperated disbelief, and laughs a humorless sound that scrapes at my nerves. “Afraid somebody might hear? This is a small town. If you think people don’t already suspect you’re delusional.”
A hot flush spreads across my face. “You don’t know what my marriage has been like.” I regret the words the instant they leave my mouth.
His hand slams onto my desk hard enough to send a stack of papers skidding off the edge. “Don’t blame Claire for your poor choices,” he warns. His words land exactly as intended—heavy and accusatory. “Have you thought about how all this will affect Ellie?”
That question stings. I have thought about her, but it hasn’t changed my choices.
“Of course I have.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“When I’m with her… I’m not a husband or a father. I’m just… Ethan. And the way she looks at me—”
He drags a hand down his face. “God, Ethan.”
I sink back into my chair and stare at nothing, my vision blurring.
The scrape of his chair against the floor is a jarring sound as he stands. “You need to end it.”
“You make it sound simple.”
“It’s simple. It’s just not easy.”
He turns and heads toward the door, but stops before he leaves.
“Claire is eventually going to find out. And you should know that Sloane has suspected something ever since the gala. If Sloane finds out before Claire does you’re going to have a much bigger problem.
” The certainty in his voice settles behind my sternum.
“Reid—”
He looks back at me, his gaze unwavering. “Don’t think for a second that this won’t affect this firm—or our friendship.”