Chapter 65
Ethan
The alcohol loosened the last of my restraint.
I started crying.
It surprised us both.
My breath hitched, the sound rough and ugly, and I could not stop. Years of charm and deflection and easy smiles collapsed in on themselves.
Ashley’s eyes widened. She moved closer without hesitation, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
“It’s okay,” she murmured. “Everything is fine, you’re just overwhelmed.”
Her voice was soft. Steady. She held me like I was something of value instead of a disappointment.
The gratitude that flooded me was immediate and overwhelming. I leaned into her without thinking, my head dropping to her shoulder. I could smell her perfume, sweet and warm, different from Claire but comforting in its own way.
I pressed my face into the hollow of her neck, breathing her in like air after being underwater too long.
My tears dampened her skin. My breath hitched against her. I felt her shiver in response.
I did not know who moved first.
I only knew that suddenly she was closer, that her hand was at my back, that her mouth was near my ear.
For a few suspended seconds, it felt like only the two of us existed in that room. Two people who had spent their lives ruining good things. Two people who were wary of happiness.
The kiss was not gentle.
It was desperate and clumsy, edged with pain. Teeth knocked. Breath tangled. There was no tenderness in it, only need and fear colliding without grace.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice told me to stop. That this was wrong. That this would destroy everything.
But I had already spent the week convincing myself that everything would fall apart eventually anyway.
I did not remember deciding to move to the guest room.
I only remembered that I never crossed the threshold of the bedroom Claire and I shared. Even in that state, I could not bring myself to take this there.
What followed was frantic and sharp, two people pressing against each other with more force than care. It was not comfort. It was escape.
And then the door opened.
The sound was small. Almost nothing.
But it cut through everything.
Claire stood there.
The look on her face is something I have carried with me every day since.
Shock first. Then devastation so complete it seemed to hollow her out from the inside.
I sobered instantly.
I scrambled away, my hands shaking, my head spinning. I grabbed for clothes, nearly tripping as I pulled them on. I could not look at Ashley. I could not look at anyone.
I threw a sheet over her shoulders without meeting her eyes.
By the time I stumbled into the hallway, Claire was gone.
The door to the apartment hung open, the night air rushing in like judgment.
I stood there for a long moment, frozen, the silence roaring.
Then I went to the bathroom and tried to scrub myself clean.
The disgust did not lift.
I punched the wall once, hard enough to split skin, hard enough to feel something other than the collapse inside my chest.
The pain brought bile up my throat. I leaned over the toilet and vomited, my stomach burning because there was nothing in it but alcohol and shame.