Chapter 19 #4
Almost never.
“Uh…”
What would he have said? The Ethan who had gotten to see her every day?
Who had watched as she hit thirty, who had been cheering her on as she lived out her dreams. The Ethan who would have already carved out a room for himself in the place—one that was not Cabin—and known it as well as she did.
Helped plant the flowers and take down the laundry and mow the lawn. What would that Ethan have said?
As he ruminated on it, time ticking on, the silence stretching between them, he realized something.
He didn’t know.
He didn’t know what that Ethan would have said. Couldn’t answer her as that man.
The realization winded him, and he stared at her blankly, helplessly.
She nodded, as though she’d gotten the answer she needed.
“Let’s see what the others are up to,” she suggested.
He couldn’t do anything except follow her, his legs heavy, his lips numb.
* * *
They stayed at the lake until the sun sank lower in the sky.
The days were truly shortening now that the dog days of summer were long gone and autumn had officially begun.
Whatever affliction Noah and Katy had woken up with that morning seemed to have passed, and they all had a good time, laughing on the dock, sharing stories and gossip, eating the sandwiches Maggie had packed—vegetarian for Katy—and soaking up the sun for as long as it lasted.
Julia was sure they were fulfilling their social media duties, watching as Ethan directed precise, specific posts to leave enough breadcrumbs for the rabid fans who cared, but she couldn’t bring herself to be more interested than to give the process a passing glance as they spoke.
It felt like a non-event in their day, and Maggie had distracted her with amiable conversation over the fruits her mother had gotten at the farmers’ market and what they should think about making for their fall menu.
As they started to head back in the late-afternoon sun, Julia found herself lagging behind again, her ankle sore and tired, more than it had been all day, as the walking and adventuring were catching up with her.
Ethan fell behind with her, a fact she was surprised about, since he had been avoiding her since their conversation that morning. She figured he would go up ahead and walk with his clients, discuss their next steps or perhaps let them know how soon they could leave.
But instead, he came to walk with her, watching her carefully as she limped back up the hill.
“Are you okay?” he asked finally, his voice steady, his emotions indecipherable.
“I’ll be fine,” she answered through slightly gritted teeth, just hoping she’d make it back without incident.
“Should I carry you?” he offered, again in a tone that could be flatly serious or deadpan, still frustratingly unreadable.
“No, thank you,” she responded, going with politeness. “I’m only a carry-me-once kind of girl, and you’ve filled your lifetime quota.”
His lips twitched and a smirk broke through, like the sun clearing the clouds. “Surely it’s been more than once.”
She thought of the times she’d taken him up on offered piggyback rides, the times he’d slung her over his shoulder and run her down the dock, the times they’d played chicken in the water whenever a friend had come up that year or a neighboring cottage dweller had sailed by with kids the same age.
“Maybe,” she allowed, giving him a small smile back.
At the sight of her return smile, his lips quavered, then flattened.
“What are we going to do, Julia?” he asked quietly, respecting her wishes that he not use the nickname—knowing he had forgotten in the past and trying to remember now, as difficult as it was. “What do we do?”
Could things ever go back to the way they were? Could they be friends again? Could they be more?
It felt impossible. He had his life and she had hers. Where would one fit into the other?
“I—” Even as she started to respond, she truly wasn’t sure what words were going to come out of her mouth.
Because at that moment, as they climbed the gentle hill back up to the house, an unfamiliar car came into view on the gravel drive.
The silhouette of a woman, slender yet shapely, in clothes that seemed out of place for where they were—sleek, silky, and expensive—stood near the front porch, talking to Norman.
“Who is that?” Maggie asked, squinting at the unfamiliar person, while Katy said simultaneously on the tail end of a gasp: “Is that—?”
Julia looked over at Ethan in confusion, but stopped when she saw his face.
Although he hadn’t said anything, she felt ice course through her veins, the precursor to a panic episode, which usually required her to find a quiet place to get herself together.
There was something about his expression, his posture, his whole body language, that told her things were about to change drastically—again.
“Ethan?” she said quietly, reaching out and touching his arm. Giving it a squeeze.
It appeared to barely register, but after a moment, he said one word with grim resignation:
“Emily.”