Chapter 30 Ethan
Ethan
“Here’s that report you wanted, Mr. North.” Adrianna trots into my office in four-inch heels with an overeager smile plastered on her face.
“Just Ethan, please,” I remind her for the second time today.
Also for the second time today, I remind myself to contact the temp agency and let them know I won’t be extending Adrianna’s contract after the end of the month.
She giggles. The sound is like a cheese grater applied directly to my already frayed nerve endings. “Right, of course… Ethan.”
Adrianna sets the report on my desk. I asked her to email it but should have known that she’ll find any reason to barge into my office.
“And here’s another coffee.” She sets the cup down on my desk a little too enthusiastically, making some coffee slosh over the brim. “I noticed your last one went cold on you.”
Yes, because I’m not convinced that it wasn’t full of wet asphalt.
I’m about to remind her for the millionth time that she doesn’t need to fetch coffee for me.
I’d prefer that she focus on… whatever it is that she’s doing out there.
Murdering trees to print unnecessary reports, apparently.
I make a mental note to have our nonprofit division look into hosting a tree planting ceremony.
“Uncle Ethan!” a tiny voice interrupts.
Sophia starts toward my desk, holding a few colorful pages out in front of her, but slows to a stop when she sees Adrianna. Her shyness kicks in at the sight of a stranger in my office, and she turns back to her mom for reassurance.
Unfortunately, Adrianna doesn’t exactly help the situation. Planting her hands on her hips, she glares at Rachel and snaps, “Do you have an appointment? Mr. North is very busy.”
Rachel directs a quizzical look at me while Sophia curls into her mother’s leg.
“It’s fine, Adrianna,” I say, exasperated. “Can you please just close the door on your way out?”
Indignancy flashes across Adrianna’s face. The way her mouth pops open then clamps shut reminds me of a fish. She straightens her cardigan, then practically stomps out of the room.
“Sorry about that,” I mutter, motioning for Rachel to take a seat.
With Adrianna gone, Sophia perks up and rounds the desk to give me a hug. She hands me a drawing she made of a bright blue and orange striped cat.
“Wow, did you draw this?” I ask her. It’s a big step up from the turtle she drew a few months ago.
She nods excitedly. “Margot taught me how! I made this one for her.” Sophia hands me the second drawing, which is an identical cat in pink and purple.
My face falls, along with my stomach. I remember that day; it was the same week we went to Aspen. Rachel was in a hurry to get to a doctor’s appointment when she dropped Sophia off for lunch, but I was stuck on a call. Margot kept Sophia busy drawing animals on some printer paper at her desk.
Every mention of Margot, every thought of her feels like a dagger sinking into my skin.
Of course, this does absolutely nothing to stop me from thinking of her a million times a day.
Every little thing reminds me of her. At work, at home—there’s no escape.
She’s woven so deeply into every facet of my life and every inch of my heart that I can’t go even an hour without thinking of her.
And by the end of the day, I’m more puncture wounds than person.
I stare wistfully out the glass wall at Margot’s old desk, currently occupied by the obnoxious temp. Rachel’s eyes follow my gaze then settle back on me. Her voice is cautious when she asks, “Where’s Margot?”
Peeling my gaze away from her old desk, I clear my throat. “She transferred to another department.”
“Oh,” Rachel says, clearly surprised. “That’s too bad. I really liked her.”
I nod vaguely.
She pauses for a moment. “And it seemed like the two of you were… close.” Something flickers in her eyes—maybe knowledge, or maybe just suspicion.
“You know about us,” I surmise. “Did my brother say something?”
Margot was never meant to be a secret. I just needed time to figure things out. And now, it seems all I have is time.
Rachel’s laugh is quiet and subdued. “Garrett? No, he barely says a word to me.”
That tracks. Garrett has always been less accepting of Silas’s behavior than the rest of us.
He didn’t exactly approve of the messy situation between our oldest brother, Rachel, and me.
But he’ll do anything for me and my parents, which means putting his own feelings aside and welcoming Rachel and Sophia back into the family now that they’re living in Denver.
“I see the way you look at Margot though, Ethan.” A hesitant smile pulls at her mouth. “I know.”
I suppose she would. Rachel saw a glimmer of that same look once. Although, what I felt for Rachel doesn’t compare to the way I feel about Margot.
“There’s not much to know anymore,” I say dismissively.
Her smile falters. “That’s too bad. It seemed like she was good for you.”
My only reply is a nod. Discussing our love lives, past or present, is not on the table for Rachel and me, but I appreciate her concern.
“Well, give it some time. Maybe it will all work out eventually.”
Not likely, I think.
“Ready to go?” I ask instead.
Rachel smiles, a flicker of something in her eyes. “Actually, it’s just you and Sophia today. I’m just dropping her off, then I’m meeting someone else for lunch.”
I can tell be her tone that it’s someone she’s seeing, but I don’t ask any questions. Honestly, I’m just glad that Rachel has gotten her life back together.
Now, if only I could do the same.
***
The only upside to losing Margot as my assistant is that I’m so swamped with work that I can hardly find the time to focus on losing Margot as my girlfriend.
It’s a silver lining, albeit a whisper thin one.
Most weeks, I clock eighty hours or more at the office, trying to accomplish all the work that Margot and I used to do as a team. I always fall short. Everything is piling up with no end in sight. Professionally, I feel Margot’s absence in every unfinished report and unanswered email.
Personally, I feel her absence every time something funny or ridiculous happens. I can hear her laugh. Imagine the way she’d roll her eyes, or the sarcastic comment she would make. She’s only a few floors away, but the distance feels insurmountable.
We rarely see each other around the office. I have a feeling that’s by design—hers, not mine.
Every day that I don’t see her feels worse than the last. Sometimes it feels like the slim possibility of bumping into her is the only reason to get up in the morning and drive to the office.
Then, when I arrive, I wallow in the work that used to bring me joy.
There was a time when I thought I really loved my job, but now I’m not so sure.
Maybe it was Margot that I loved all along.
Without her, it all feels dreary, dull, and meaningless. Who cares about purchase orders or budget meetings or this year’s holiday catalog? The only reason I bother with any of it is because it’s a distraction.
At some point, my brother takes note of this and starts inviting me over for dinner. I give him noncommittal answers until he finally tells me I’m coming over for dinner one Saturday night. If I don’t show up, he threatens to come drag me out of the office himself.
Reluctantly, I show up on my own accord.
By 8:45, there’s still no sign of Emma. Dinner has been downgraded from a home-cooked meal to carry-out pizza, which Garrett just called to order. I offer to leave, since I never really wanted to come over in the first place, but my brother tells me to stay. It’s not a request.
Half an hour later, Emma bursts through the front door, carrying two pizzas and spouting apologies. Garrett stands up, taking the pizzas from her.
“Is she okay?” I hear him ask under his breath.
Emma answers with a discreet nod.
I’m on my feet immediately, interest piqued. “Is who okay?” I ask. They exchange a look. “Margot? Did something happen?”
We’re all frozen there, the weight of their silence bearing down on the room. Eventually, Emma sighs and answers, “Yes, Margot, but she’s fine now. Nothing to worry about.”
“What happened?” I demand.
“Her ex showed up at her apartment. She doesn’t know how he got her new address. It freaked her out.” Emma’s tone is clipped, making it clear that the conversation is over.
I disagree.
“Jeremy showed up at her apartment? What did he want? Is she okay?”
Emma shoots me an exasperated look, repeating her words in a firmer voice, “She’s fine.”
If Emma won’t tell me what’s going on, I’ll just take matters into my own hands. Fishing my phone out of my back pocket, I pull up Margot’s phone number.
“What are you doing?” Emma asks. She glances down at the name on my phone. “Don’t you dare, Ethan. The last thing Margot needs tonight is another ex-boyfriend suddenly popping back into her life.”
Her words hit me like a sucker punch. Ex-boyfriend… just like Jeremy. It hardly seems fair to put us both in the same category.
“I’m not like that ass—,” I start to object, but Emma steamrolls right over me.
“No. You’re worse than Jeremy.”
I let out a sharp laugh, more defense than amusement. “How the hell am I worse than him?”
Emma’s eyes blaze, and for once, Garrett doesn’t even try to play referee.
“Because you were supposed to be the one,” she says, furious with me now. “You and Margot could’ve been perfect for each other, and you blew it all up because you couldn’t swallow your pride and be honest about your past.”
Her words slice deeper than I want to admit. I open my mouth, but she barrels on.
“I was rooting for you, Ethan. Even before all this crap with Jeremy. Before Garrett and I were even together. I rooted for you and her to end up together. Not because I wanted her as a sister-in-law, but because I wanted you both to be happy. And I don’t know how you two were so oblivious, but it was perfectly fucking clear to everyone else that you made each other happy.
All you had to do was tell her the truth.
Margot would have understood. Instead, you broke my best friend’s heart, and I honestly don’t know if she’ll ever fully recover. ”
Her voice cracks, and the silence that follows is suffocating.
I feel hollowed out, every word carving another piece out of me. She’s right. I broke it. I broke her. And yet, something sticks in my chest, wedged between the pain.
“You… you said I was supposed to be the one.” My voice is quieter now, almost hoarse. “Are you saying… do you still think there’s a chance?”
Emma freezes, realizing what she let slip.
“Dammit, I didn’t mean—" She exhales, shoulders slumping. “Look. I don’t want to get your hopes up, okay? I know I’m yelling at you right now, but I care about you too.
But yes, maybe there’s still a chance. Not tonight though.
Tonight, Margot needs space, not another guy showing up with a declaration of undying love. ”
Emma’s words lodge somewhere deep inside me, half warning, half lifeline.
I nod slowly, gripping my phone so tight it creaks. I want to call Margot. I want to see her, to fix this, to fix us. But Emma’s right. This isn’t the right time.
So I sit there, wrecked and restless, knowing I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want her. And for the first time in weeks, I let myself believe—just barely—that maybe it isn’t too late.