Chapter 18 #3
“Like who, a doctor?” She shook her head, honey-blonde ponytail tickling his nose.
She must have put it up when she’d come down here, preceding whatever it was that had occurred.
“No. It’s fine. I just need to get past—” She cut herself off and took in another shaky sigh.
He could feel her move away from him—physically, but also initiating the emotional distance. “It’s fine.”
“It doesn’t seem fine.” He knew he shouldn’t push. He didn’t have the right. It had been years, and who knew how long she had been dealing with it—certainly when he was no longer there to help or support her—so really, it was none of his business. But damn it, this was Gem.
“It’s fine.” Her terse words cut through his inner turmoil, and he felt her push away from him even further, though they both still sat on the cold bathroom tile. “I’ll figure it out.”
“Oh, you’ll figure it out?”
The frustration came up from him, resurfacing from the ashes of his bitter anger from before, pushing aside the logical part that reminded him of his rights, or lack thereof, when it came to her. It came to the forefront of his emotions, feeling like it was going to burst from him.
“Looks like you had things pretty well figured out before I got here,” he continued, even as warning alarms went off in his head.
She shot him a look of disdain. “How would you even know? You don’t know anything about what I’m dealing with. What I’ve been through. You don’t know anything about me.”
The gloves were off. Normally, historically, Ethan would have conceded. Backed away. But not this time. This time, when emotions were already raw and what he had seen happen to her was enough to scare him, scare the shit out of him, in fact, he could no longer hold back or yield to her.
“I don’t know anything about you, Julia? I know nothing? Come the fuck on,” he snapped instead.
She blinked at him, seeming shocked at his refusal to bow down this time, to concede the fight to her, because he’d historically been the one in the wrong. But he couldn’t do it, not this time.
“I mean, maybe I didn’t know it was Maggie’s family who bought the cottage from good old Graham Schaeffer.
” The sarcasm dripped heavily from his words, and he took satisfaction in the way her mouth dropped and she reddened, caught in her own omission of the truth.
“But I do know everything that’s ever given you an allergic reaction.
I know every bone you’ve broken or muscle you’ve sprained.
I could probably name the date of each of your goddamn scars.
And yeah, I fucked up eight years ago, and maybe I don’t know any of the new shit that’s happened, but that doesn’t mean the old shit doesn’t count anymore, damn it. ”
“Is that what it is, Ethan?” she spoke finally, her words clipped, unshed tears gathering in her eyes. “You just fucked up eight years ago, but since you can count every time I scraped my knees when I was a kid, everything can go back to being peachy keen?”
“You know that’s not—”
“No, please, tell me more about how it matters so much.” Despite her words, he felt secretly relieved that he could see the color coming back into her cheeks, this time from anger rather than shame.
Sure, it was due to anger directed at him, but at least she was starting to seem more like herself.
“Like you give a shit about who bought the cottage off my dad. Tell me more about the history we have and how it trumps the way things turned out. Because it seems to me that what you’re trying to do is wash your hands of any sort of blame.
You’re here now—for your own purposes, mind you—being all nice and reminiscing with me about the good old days without acknowledging how you—” She cut herself off and shook her head. “I don’t even know why I bother.”
“Are you entirely blameless, then?” Ethan shot back. “It was just all me and that’s it? Ethan fucked up and Julia is perfect, as per usual.”
“As per—” she exploded. “Me? The perfect one? You must be joking, Ethan. Seriously, don’t make me laugh. Mr. Golden Boy hockey player, talented photographer, only-child sunshine kid who everyone loved. But yeah, sure, I was perfect.” She rolled her eyes and made to stand up. “You need to just—”
Her legs must not have been as steady as she anticipated, however, because her knees wobbled precariously before buckling, and she fell back down, hard. Or at least she would have if Ethan hadn’t jolted forward to grab her, redirecting her fall so she landed on him. In his arms. On his lap.
She straightened with a gasp, and he tightened his arms around her back, their faces only a couple of inches apart. He could see the indigo flecks in her eyes, the smattering of golden freckles on her cheeks, could feel her breath coming out sharply from full, rose-tinted lips.
This was the problem she had—the problem she had always had.
She’d always denied being perfect, when the evidence was right there and had been in front of him, day in and day out, for decades.
He saw her gaze flick down to his mouth and back up again, colliding with his own as their eyes met and held. She was wordless, breathless almost, and had stopped, her whole body going still, though she remained alert and steady in his arms.
This is such a bad fucking idea, Ethan thought.
Then he kissed her.