21. Eliana #2
He shrugged.
I laughed softly, although there was something bitter beneath it. "I wonder why everyone keeps secrets from me."
The humor disappeared from my face almost as quickly as it had appeared.
Ethan noticed. His expression softened, and for a moment, he looked as though he wanted to say something. Instead, he simply nodded toward the food.
"Come on. Eat before the ramen gets cold."
I nodded.
I didn't want to think anymore. Not about Adrian. Not about the diary. Not about the paintings or the locked room or the questions that seemed to multiply every time I tried to answer one. So when Ethan poured the drinks, I accepted the glass.
"Just tonight," I said.
"Just tonight," he agreed.
We ate at the kitchen counter while the rain battered against the windows. The spicy ramen warmed me from the inside, and somewhere between the second drink and Ethan's increasingly ridiculous childhood stories, I started laughing.
He reminded me of the time I had fallen asleep during a school trip and woken up convinced we'd already arrived at our destination. I reminded him about the terrible haircut he'd given himself when we were teenagers because he'd decided he could cut his own hair.
"You promised you'd never tell anyone about that," he said.
"I was young and foolish."
"You were cruel."
"You looked like a mushroom."
He laughed so hard he nearly dropped his chopsticks. For the first time in weeks, I laughed without forcing it.
We talked about school, old friends, stupid arguments we'd had when we were younger, and all the little memories that belonged to a simpler version of my life.
As the alcohol warmed my thoughts, everything felt slightly softer around the edges.
I didn't have to solve anything tonight.
I didn't have to decide whether Adrian was a monster or the man I loved. I could simply exist.
At some point, I caught Ethan watching me.
"What?" I asked.
He smiled. "Nothing."
"You're staring."
"I was remembering."
"Remembering what?"
"You used to laugh like that all the time."
The words made me pause.
I looked down at my glass. "I don't remember being that happy."
"You were."
There was something in the way he said it that made me look at him again. His gaze stayed on mine for a second longer than necessary before he finally looked away.
The moment passed, but I felt it linger.
Eventually, Ethan glanced toward the windows. "The rain isn't stopping."
"It looks worse."
"I'll stay until it slows down."
I nodded.
Later, after we'd finished eating, we stepped outside beneath the covered walkway to get some air. The rain had eased into a steady drizzle, and the streetlights reflected across the wet pavement.
I leaned against the railing. "Do you remember when I got stuck in that motel during the storm with Adrian?"
Ethan looked at me.
I smiled faintly at the memory despite everything. "It was ridiculous. We were supposed to leave, but the roads were flooded, and we ended up spending the night there."
Ethan frowned, but he didn't let it become jealousy.
Instead, he said quietly, "You deserve someone who doesn't keep secrets from you."
I looked at him.
"Someone who tells you the truth instead of making you question your own sanity. Someone who doesn't leave you wondering whether you're imagining things."
His voice was gentle. There was no anger in it, no attempt to convince me of anything. Just words that landed exactly where I was most vulnerable.
"I know," I whispered.
Ethan looked at me for several seconds. There was something unspoken in his expression now, something I wasn't sure I was ready to acknowledge.
Then he reached out and gently brushed a loose strand of hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear.
His fingers lingered for the briefest moment before falling away.
I didn't move.
Neither did he.
The rain continued around us, soft against the pavement, while the space between us seemed to become smaller without either of us deliberately closing it.
Ethan's eyes dropped briefly to my lips before returning to mine.
He leaned closer.
My eyes slowly closed.
But it wasn't Ethan I saw.
It was blue eyes, a teasing smile, a familiar voice telling me he had missed me.
My eyes flew open. I stepped backward immediately.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, tears filling my eyes. "I can't."
Ethan stopped. For a moment, disappointment showed before he carefully managed a small smile.
"You still love him."
I lowered my gaze. "I don't know if I trust him anymore," I admitted, my voice trembling. "But my heart never stopped loving him."
Ethan was quiet.
He looked away, taking a slow breath before turning back toward me. Whatever hope had briefly appeared in his eyes was gone, but he didn't seem angry about it.
"I figured," he said softly.
I looked at him.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be." His smile was faint, but genuine. "You don't owe me something your heart isn't ready to give."
The kindness in his words made my eyes sting.
He could have made me feel guilty. He could have asked me to give him a chance. Instead, he stepped back and gave me the distance I needed.
"I think I should go," he said after a moment. "It's getting late."
I swallowed and nodded. "Okay."
He gave me a small smile and reached for his jacket.
Neither of us said anything else, but as I watched him walk toward the door, I couldn't ignore the strange ache that followed his leaving.
That night, after Ethan left, I lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling while the sounds of the city drifted through my window.
I had thought coming home would give me some distance from everything that had happened, but instead, every familiar place seemed determined to remind me of Adrian.
The café where we had shared breakfast, the bookstore where he had teased me about my terrible taste in romance novels, even the streets we had walked together seemed to carry pieces of him.
The flowers he kept sending were no better. Every morning, another bouquet appeared at my door, accompanied by a handwritten letter I couldn't bring myself to read. I had stopped answering him, but his presence still seemed to follow me everywhere.
I needed to get away.
More importantly, I needed to get away from both Adrian and Ethan before I made another decision while my emotions were still controlling me. So the next morning, I packed a small bag and drove out to my father's house in the countryside.
Dad welcomed me without asking questions.
He simply pulled me into a hug and held me for a few seconds longer than usual before letting me go. Whatever he noticed in my expression, he wisely chose not to mention it. Instead, he asked whether I was hungry, and somehow, that ordinary question made the evening feel almost normal.
We cooked together, arguing playfully over how much seasoning belonged in the sauce while he told me stories about Mom and the restaurant she had loved so much. I laughed when he exaggerated her temper and smiled when he described the way she used to sing while working in the kitchen.
For a few hours, I managed to forget everything.
The next afternoon, Dad left for town to buy groceries. I spent the time sitting on the porch with my laptop, trying to work, although I hadn't written more than a few sentences when I heard a car approaching.
I looked up.
Dad's vehicle rolled into the driveway.
I smiled automatically, but the expression disappeared when he stepped out.
He wasn't alone.
A tall man climbed out from the passenger side, carrying several heavy grocery bags as though he had been helping Dad all morning.
My entire body went still.
Adrian.
He looked toward the porch.
Our eyes met.
Neither of us spoke.
For several seconds, we simply stared at each other, with every unanswered question, every painful memory, and every word we had left unsaid hanging between us.
Dad, completely unaware of the tension filling the space around us, smiled as he carried another bag toward the house.
"Looks like you two have already met."