Chapter 20
Morning had slipped in slowly.
Soft light filtering through the trees, stretching across the wooden floors in long, golden lines.
Aria had been awake for a while.
She sat curled into the corner of the couch, one of Ethan's oversized hoodies wrapped around her, sleeves pulled down over her hands. A blanket was draped across her lap, her bare feet tucked beneath her.
She hadn't moved much since the sun started rising.
Hadn't turned on the TV.
Hadn't reached for her phone.
Hadn't even finished the coffee sitting untouched on the table in front of her.
Her mind had been doing enough.
It kept replaying the same moment.
Over and over.
"I remember falling in love with you."
Her chest tightened.
That line had settled somewhere deep, somewhere it didn't seem to want to leave.
Not because it was comforting.
Because it wasn't.
It was honest.
And honesty, she was learning, could hurt a hell of a lot worse than lies.
She leaned her head back against the couch and closed her eyes for a second.
He remembered loving her.
Past tense.
That was the part that mattered.
That was the part that changed everything.
Because remembering love...
Wasn't the same as feeling it.
And she refused, refused, to stand in the middle of his confusion and try to pull something out of him that he wasn't sure he still had.
That wasn't love.
That was desperation.
And she had too much respect for what they had been...
To turn it into that.
She exhaled slowly.
Her fingers tightened slightly inside the sleeves of the hoodie.
She missed him.
God, she missed him.
Not the version of him sitting in that hotel room.
Not the fractured man trying to hold himself together.
She missed the one who used to spin her around the kitchen like the world outside didn't exist.
The one who kissed her forehead before leaving and promised he'd come home.
The one who made everything feel easy.
Safe.
Certain.
That man...
Was gone.
And maybe parts of him were still there.
Maybe pieces would come back.
Maybe someday he would look at her again and feel it all the way he used to.
But she couldn't wait around hoping for that.
Not when it meant losing herself in the process.
The floor creaked softly behind her.
She didn't turn.
"Coffee's getting cold."
Ethan's voice was low, still rough with sleep.
She huffed out a quiet breath.
"I noticed."
He moved into the kitchen, grabbing a mug for himself before leaning against the counter.
"You planning on drinking it or just staring at it like it offends you?"
That pulled the smallest hint of a smile from her.
"I'm thinking about it."
"Careful," he said. "Too much thinking and you'll talk yourself out of drinking it completely."
She glanced over at him.
"You always this philosophical in the morning?"
He took a sip of his coffee.
"Only when I haven't had enough coffee."
She looked back at the mug in front of her.
Then finally reached for it.
Took a small sip.
It had gone lukewarm.
She didn't care.
Ethan watched her for a second.
Then asked, a little more serious this time,
"You sleep at all?"
She shook her head slightly.
"Not really."
"Yeah," he said. "Didn't figure you would."
Silence settled between them.
But it wasn't uncomfortable.
Ethan didn't push.
Didn't pry.
He just let her exist in her pain.
And somehow, that helped more than anything else could have.
After a minute, she spoke.
"I left."
He nodded once.
"I understand that."
Her eyes dropped to her cup.
"I don't think I'm going back."
He didn't react right away.
Didn't jump in.
Just waited.
Then he spoke.
"Not going back at all?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"Not right now."
A pause.
"I don't know what happens after yesterday."
"That's fair."
She glanced up at him.
"You're not going to tell me I'm running away?"
He tilted his head slightly.
"You feel like you're running?"
She thought about it.
Really thought about it.
Then shook her head.
"No."
"Then you're not running."
Simple as that.
She let out a small breath.
"I don't think I've ever felt this... clear and this lost at the same time."
Ethan smirked faintly.
"Welcome to being human."
She rolled her eyes just slightly.
"That's not helpful."
"Wasn't meant to be," he said. "Just accurate."
That earned him another small, fleeting smile.
It faded quickly.
But it had been real.
She looked down at her hands again.
"I meant what I said last night."
He nodded.
"About not being able to do that to him."
"And to yourself," he added.
Her chest tightened slightly.
"Yeah."
Another pause.
Then she admitted something she hadn't said out loud yet.
"I don't know if I can love who he is now."
The words felt heavy.
Like they carried more weight now that they were spoken.
Ethan didn't flinch.
Didn't judge.
Didn't rush to fix it.
He just nodded slowly.
"That's honest."
She swallowed.
"It feels wrong to say."
"Most honest things do."
She looked up at him.
"And you're just okay with that?"
"I'm not the one who has to live with it," he said simply.
Then added,
"But I think pretending you can love someone when you don't recognize them anymore... that's a whole lot worse."
That hit.
Harder than she expected.
Because that was the truth she hadn't wanted to say out loud.
She leaned back into the couch again, staring out the window.
The sunlight had fully broken through now, lighting up the trees and the water beyond them.
It was beautiful.
Peaceful.
Unbothered.
The world didn't stop just because hers had shifted.
"I don't hate him," she said quietly.
Ethan nodded.
"I didn't think you did."
"I don't even blame him."
"Wouldn't make sense if you did."
Her voice softened.
"I just... can't be there right now."
He pushed off the counter and walked over, dropping down into the chair across from her.
"That's not weakness," he said.
"That's knowing your limits."
She looked at him.
"And what if my limit means losing him for good?"
Ethan leaned back slightly, resting his forearms on his knees.
"Then you were going to lose him anyway," he said. "Just slower."
Silence followed that.
She knew he was right.
Aria turned the mug slowly between her hands, watching the faint swirl of coffee inside like it might settle something in her chest if she stared at it long enough.
It didn't.
Nothing really had.
Not yet.
She lifted her eyes toward Ethan, who was leaning against the counter like he had nowhere else to be and no reason to rush anything.
"You're really good with the advice," she said.
One corner of his mouth pulled up slightly.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
She tilted her head just a little, studying him.
"Wanna share some more of your story?"
That got a different reaction.
Subtle, but there.
His shoulders shifted.
Not tense.
Just... aware.
Like she had stepped onto ground he didn't usually let people walk on.
He looked at her for a second.
Measuring.
Then he let out a small breath.
"You sure you want that?" he asked.
She shrugged lightly.
"You sat there and listened to me spiral for half a night," she said. "Feels fair."
That earned him a quiet huff of amusement.
"Fair enough."
He pushed off the counter and grabbed his coffee, taking a slow sip before moving toward the chair across from her.
He didn't sit right away.
Just stood there for a second, staring at the floor like he was lining something up in his head.
Then finally he spoke.
"I told you before," he started, "about the girl."
Aria nodded.
"You made it sound like she just... chose your brother."
"Yeah," he said. "That's the cleaner version."
Her brow lifted slightly.
"Cleaner?"
"Less embarrassing," he clarified.
That almost got a smile out of her.
Almost.
She leaned back into the couch, pulling one leg under her.
"So what's the unclean version?"
He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head once.
"The unclean version is... I helped it happen."
That landed immediately.
Aria straightened just slightly.
"What do you mean?"
He finally sat down, leaning forward with his forearms braced on his knees, coffee hanging loosely from one hand.
"She didn't just show up and fall for him," he said. "She got close to me first."
Aria's stomach tightened.
"Spent time with me. Asked questions. Wanted to know about my life, my family, where I grew up."
His jaw shifted.
"I thought she was getting to know me."
A beat.
"She was getting to him."
Aria's fingers tightened slightly around her mug.
"That's... not okay."
He shrugged, but there was no indifference behind it.
"She never said anything she couldn't walk back."
"That doesn't make it right."
"No," he agreed. "It doesn't."
He took another sip of his coffee, then set the mug down on the table beside him, his hands coming together loosely.
"I brought her around my family," he continued. "Didn't think twice about it. Just figured... that's what you do when you're starting to like someone."
Aria watched him closely.
"What happened?"
He let out a short breath.
"She stopped paying attention to me."
That was simple.
Too simple.
"And started paying attention to him," Aria said.
"Yeah."
He didn't dress it up.
Didn't soften it.
"First time it happened, I told myself I was reading into it," he added. "Second time, I ignored it."
"And the third?"
He gave a faint, humorless smile.
"I introduced them properly."
Aria shook her head slightly.
"You didn't know."
"No," he said. "I didn't."
He leaned back a little in the chair, his hands dropping between his knees.
"I thought I was doing something good. Thought I was bringing someone I liked into my world."
His mouth tightened.
"Turns out I was just opening the door for her."
Aria's chest ached for him.
"That's not on you."
"Feels like it is," he said.
"Because you were the one who got hurt."
He didn't argue that.
Just let it sit.
"They didn't sneak around," he went on. "Didn't hide anything."
A pause.
"They didn't have to."
Aria swallowed.
"They just... became a thing?"
"Yeah."
His gaze drifted for a second, then came back to her.
"And I got to watch it happen. Yeah I caught them that one time but everyone but me could see them falling for each other."
"What did you do?" she asked quietly.
"What do you think I did?" he said.
She held his gaze.
"Stayed."
He gave a small nod.
"For a while."
Her chest tightened.
"Why?"
He let out a breath, leaning forward again.
"Because I kept thinking if I just waited it out, it would stop hurting."
He shook his head once.
"It didn't."
Aria looked down at her hands.
"I think I get that part," she said softly.
He glanced at her.
"Yeah," he said. "I figured you might."
She let out a slow breath.
"You didn't leave right away."
"No."
"What made you finally go?"
He looked at her for a long second.
Then said simply,
"I realized I wasn't losing her."
A beat.
"I never had her."
That one landed.
Deep.
Aria leaned back slightly, her chest tightening.
"And staying just kept proving that to me over and over again."
She closed her eyes briefly.
That felt a little too close to home.
When she opened them again, she looked at him.
"So you left."
"Yeah."
"Just like that?"
"Packed a bag. Drove to Alabama."
He shrugged lightly.
"Didn't look back."
Aria studied him.
"You're still running, though."
He didn't flinch.
Didn't deny it.
"Yeah," he admitted. "I am."
She tilted her head slightly.
"Do you think that's a bad thing?"
He thought about it for a second.
Then shook his head.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I knew what I couldn't handle," he said. "And I didn't stick around long enough to let it break me."
That sat differently.
Not avoidance.
Not weakness.
Something else.
Something... intentional.
Aria exhaled slowly.
"I think that's what I'm doing," she said.
He looked at her.
"Leaving before it breaks you?"
She nodded.
"Yeah."
A pause.
"He remembered loving me."
Ethan didn't interrupt.
"But he doesn't know if he still does."
Her voice softened.
"And I don't know if I can stand there and watch him figure that out."
Ethan nodded once.
"That makes sense."
She looked at him.
"Does it?"
"Yeah," he said. "Because I didn't stay around hoping she'd turn around and pick me either."