Chapter 73
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
SHE SAID YES!
—@PRyanPOfficial
Of course, you had to tell the whole world? Now, where are you taking me?
—@CuteandRich3
I pull in next to Fallon’s car behind Galileo’s. Shutting off my vehicle, I suck in a deep breath as I stare up at her window. The curtains flutter, telling me she’s aware I arrived. Minutes later, she comes downstairs and her security door opens. It’s another reminder of her lack of trust, knowing she doesn’t even trust me with her door code. Before everything, she’d have texted me the code and met me at the top of the stairs like she did the night of her graduation.
Knowing I’m unworthy of even a six-digit number is just another bruise on my heart, but I know I deserve every single one of the kicks I’m enduring. Still, I alight from the car and make my way to her. Staring down into her eyes, my voice drops of its own accord. “I appreciate you making the time to speak with me.”
She turns without a word and climbs the stairs up to her apartment. I follow behind her, entranced by the natural sway of her hips as she jogs ahead of me. Once we cross the threshold of her apartment, I come to a dead stop.
All around are packing boxes of varying shapes and sizes. My throat swells up and threatens to cut off my oxygen supply to my brain. “You…you’re moving?”
She rolls her eyes as she squeezes between smaller book boxes as if to say, Way to notice, Captain Obvious. Making her way to her couch, she perches on the edge of the arm. “You said you had the authority to tell me everything? I’d like to know why you were spying on my life.”
“It didn’t start like that.” Slowly, meticulously, I explain to her what I really do. The threats against another former agent. How we stumbled upon cracking into Devil’s Lair. And how someone was using “Filia’s” access code.
When I get to that part, Fallon noticeably pales. Her whole demeanor changes and she slides off the arm of the sofa when I share how I accessed the files that linked her to being “Filia.” Her hands visibly shake, but still she skewers me with her eyes. “Why couldn’t you explain it to me just like this before?”
I crouch down in front of her and lay my hands over hers. “It’s national security, Fal.”
“Explain that to me because the closest thing I understand about national security is secret tunnels used in National Treasure to see the back of the Declaration of Independence.”
I have to bite back a smile because I recall how Leanne said they bonded over that very thing. I squeeze her fingers. “It means there’s certain information I—we, that is, people who have access to the data—can’t share with the public. I was waiting to get the authorization to be able to share this with you.”
She’s thoughtful for a moment. “And this agency you work for…”
I’m quick to correct her. “Used to work for. I only do odd jobs for them now and then.”
“How long did you work for them?”
I give her a brief rundown of how I got started in the navy, put in fifteen years, and then, “When I got out, that’s when the Agency recruited me but I didn’t last there long.”
“Why’s that?” Her head cocks to the side.
I open my mouth, but I can’t force the words out.
Her brows draw together. “Ethan?”
Nervously, I try to pass it off. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Ethan,” she pushes, albeit gently.
I push to my feet and shove my fingers through my hair. Finally I summon up my courage to admit, “The lies. I couldn’t live with constant lies. Not on top of what was happening at home after my father betrayed us all. Christ, Fal, he was the man I looked to as a damn hero my whole life and then?—”
“A lifetime of his lies were exposed.” Looking over my shoulder, I find she’s lifted both of her hands to her lips and tears are welling in her eyes. Instead of pity, there’s regret and something I hope I’m not misinterpreting.
It looks an awful lot like understanding.
Feeling like a weight has lifted off my chest, I lean against a stack of boxes and sigh, “Yes.”
Fallon nods. She gets to her feet and reaches into her pocket. Her head ducks as her fingers fly. She must have received a text while we were talking. I briefly wonder if it’s her movers when I feel a vibration against my chest.
Next to my heart.
Cautiously, I reach for my phone and slip it out of my pocket.
It’s her.
My eyes flash toward hers and she glances down at my phone when all I see is a street name. Seconds later, I receive another bit of information.
Fallon:
Centerport, NY
Fallon:
My address when I move.
Fallon:
I’m transferring to Vanderbilt Eagle’s Nest.
Fallon:
Fresh start. Closer to what’s left of my family.
Once the dots stop moving, I lift my head and find her eyes on me. I hold hers for what seems like an eternity before I type back.
Ethan:
I’d like to help you move in.
Fallon:
I wouldn’t turn it down; that’s for certain.
Ethan:
That’s good to know.
Ethan:
Gives us a chance to really spend some time together.
Ethan:
Talking.
Fallon:
I’d like that.
Ethan:
But I have to make a quick trip first.
Fallon:
Where are you going?
Ethan:
Life’s too short not to get answers.
Ethan:
I think it’s time I get them from my father.
Fallon’s head snaps in my direction the second she reads my last text. Her cheeks are flushed, making me wonder if this is what her face has looked like every time we’ve had a text exchange over the last five years. Christ, I’m such a fucking moron .
“You’re not going to hear me argue with that,” she tells me, letting me know I spoke my thoughts aloud.
I take a step in her direction and she doesn’t retreat. Another one, and still another until I’m directly in front of her. “I know I have to continue to earn back your trust, witch.”
She nods, but the corner of her lip quirks. “How do you plan on doing that?”
I tuck a piece of loose hair behind her ear. “Your mama tried to make me promise not to hurt you.”
She snorts. “That went over real well.” Then she stills as my words penetrate. Her next words are whispered. “When did she say that to you?”
“The night you graduated.”
Her lashes lower and a lone tear drips down her cheek. I sweep it away with my thumb, knowing Helen's loss will live with Fallon for a long time. Tipping her chin up, I ask, “Want to know what I said back to her?”
“Yes.”
“I can only promise to try, Fallon.”
Her breath shudders out. “I learned that the hard way, E.”
“I’d like to amend what I said to her.”
“You can’t promise to not hurt me.”
“I wasn’t going to.” Her head snaps up and for a moment, her eyes flash. There she is. There’s my witch, the woman who captivated me with a single look through my rearview mirror. “What I’d like to amend is that I can’t promise not to hurt you, but I can promise I’m never going to stop loving you.”
Her head falls forward until her forehead rests on my heart for a moment before she tips her head back again. After a while of her studying my face, her lips finally curve. “Then I guess I’ll see you at some point in New York?”
I press my lips to her forehead, giving myself a moment to gather strength for what I know is to come. Then I make a promise I know I can keep. “As soon as possible.”