Chapter 24 #3
There was no longer a place for them here. Any of them. The rosy hue of the early days had faded, and the reality of the situation was settling in fast and deep. She needed to get things in order, to right the place again, and she needed to do it without Ethan here.
But—
Her phone buzzed in her back pocket, and she pushed the side button to silence it without even pulling it out. Now was not the time—not for her grandfather or whoever it was. If it was an emergency, they would call back.
More pressing were her current concerns: What was going to happen to them? What did Ethan’s leaving mean for…whatever it was they had awoken, ignited, between them?
As if he could read her mind, he sighed. “But what about…us? About this?”
Stay. The word came unbidden from somewhere deep inside, a place she hadn’t unlocked in years—eight years, to be exact.
It was impossible, she knew, and more than that, it wouldn’t work.
Stay and do what? Run the bed-and-breakfast with her?
Do his actual job five hours away from his office? From the hub of where he needed to be?
No. The best thing to do, for both of them, was to let him go.
“Ethan,” she said gently, trying to make it seem as though she were softening the blow for him rather than trying to hide the sound of her own heart breaking, “you know as well as I do, there is no us.”
He blinked hard, his jaw set tightly, but said nothing. She continued.
“It was nice to see you and nice to…” How was she going to finish that sentence.
Fuck? “…reconnect. But I think we both know that there is no future for you here. Just like there’s no future for me in New York.
And the best thing either of us can do is just”—she shrugged, swallowing hard, willing her voice to come out steady—“let each other go.”
“What if I don’t want to let you go?” His voice did him no favors, coming out ragged and hoarse. “What if I can’t?”
“You can,” she said, nodding slowly, forcing the tears to recede. “You have before.”
“Stop throwing that in my face,” he snapped, and she looked up at him sharply, eyes narrowing.
Here she was, trying to be magnanimous, to make the right decision for both of them, and he was giving her attitude?
“It was a goddamn mistake, okay? A mistake that cost me eight years of—” He cut himself off, swearing curtly under his breath. He had to compose himself, taking two or three uneven breaths before continuing in a tone that wasn’t quite steady. “Eight years of you. Of my Gem.”
Her breath caught. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. It was a mantra in her head, to him, to herself. To the universe. Don’t do this. Let me move on. It almost killed me once. But I can do it again.
“We will always have this, Ethan,” she said hoarsely, the tears a certainty now and not just a threat. “We will always have us. Maybe it won’t look the same as it did when we were kids, but at least we had this time together. You will always be important to me.”
“Don’t.” It was barely a whisper. “Don’t do that. I don’t want to be a photograph in a box. Not like that, Gem.”
She was already shaking her head. “You’d never be just a photograph, Ethan.
You’re—you’re all the mementos, all the souvenirs.
You’re the ripple on the lake, the wet footprints on the dock.
You’re the”—she let out a watery laugh—“the red Solo cup and the burnt grilled cheese sandwiches. You’re the smell of bonfire and sunsets.
You’re—” The tears were flowing freely now, and she did nothing to curb them, because there were his, too, turning his blue eyes into sapphires as he silently looked at her.
“You’re the warmth of a hug in a sweater that smells like my mom’s laundry detergent.
” She shook her head and let out a sob. “This isn’t me, all this flowery shit.
But just know that, Ethan. I can’t name all the things you are, because you are everything. ”
“So, then—” But she knew what he was going to say. It was going to be some version of Stay, come with me, be with me. And she couldn’t bear it. Because for once, her life wasn’t defined by him—by anyone—and the thought of losing that terrified her more than being alone ever could.
“No.” She shook her head. “We need to let each other go. It’s for the best.”
He looked like he was going to argue again, but he must have seen the resolute look on her face. The stubborn set of her jaw. Because he sighed. And scrubbed his hands up and down his face roughly, clearing any moisture from his eyes as he did, but leaving them reddened and watery still.
He regarded her for a bit, hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped.
Then he leaned forward and kissed her, and it surprised her the way all the times before had as well, and she was overcome by the thought that it was both wrong and somehow so right at the same time.
The kiss was soft and sweet and tasted warm and familiar, just as she’d imagined he tasted all the times she’d thought of it before. Then he pulled away.
“We’ll be gone by this afternoon,” he promised, and walked away.
* * *
True to his word, the three celebrities, one beleaguered personal assistant, and Ethan all stood at the front steps waiting for the airport limousines to arrive by three p.m. He—with some help from the magic touch of the formidable Gayle Smart—had managed to get everyone out on the red-eye to New York City—Katy and Noah had business there before heading back to LA, and it was where Emily needed to be as well.
They would leave for the airport, then he would put out as many fires as needed, set the tone for the social media reveal of “Noaty” or whatever insipid celebrity portmanteau the two would inspire, file a restraining order against Emily, and go back to his world—the one he was comfortable in.
The one he understood. The one where he belonged.
Julia had broken his heart earlier, but he couldn’t pretend he didn’t know why she had done it.
It had taken him eight years to come back into her life.
Eight years because his own cowardice had kept him from her.
If he were her, he wouldn’t trust himself, either.
She had a business to run, a livelihood to maintain.
He would just get in the way.
Glancing over tiredly, he noticed Emily had ceased her fixation on him and was instead whispering in Noah’s ear. Noah, for his part, looked politely disinterested. But that had never deterred Emily before.