Page 124 of Every Beautiful Mile

I trace my fingers across his scruffy jaw, taking note of how every coarse piece of hair feels against my skin. My hand skims down the line of his throat, then the edge of his collarbone, before feeling the slope of every muscle down his arm.

His jaw tics at the movement, but he stays silent and still as I do the same thing up his other arm, collarbone, and jawline before settling my fingers at the longest of his hair at the top of his head. His eyes close, and he leans his cheek against my palm.

“What are you doing?” he says, voice deeper than usual.

“Memorizing you,” I say. “So, I can see you when I can’t. So, when you’re gone, I can pretend you aren’t.”

It’s hard to breathe. Hard to stand. Hard to stay glued together. Everything I feel standing next to Ethan on this sidewalk is driven by desperation—want, sadness, dread, hope, guilt, joy—it’s all desperate. Devastatingly desperate.

No emotion exists alone.

“Nel—”

I cut my name off with my mouth, hoping the way I kiss him says everything I can’t.

He grips his hands firmly in my hair, as if trying to hold me in place.

When I finally pull away, I’m wrecked.

His face fills with concern as he brushes a thumb across my face.

“You’re crying,” he says, dropping his forehead to mine.

I swipe my hand across my cheek and feel it covered in moisture.

Then he hugs me, tightly, and I sob into his chest. I don’t try to hide it or minimize it. My cries come with shakes and gasps for air. My whole body is a sinking ship of sorrow.

“It’s okay,” he hums into my ear as he rubs circles on my back. “It’s going to be okay. We have a few more days, and we can figure it out then.”

He makes it sound so easy, like a mathematical equation we can solve with a calculator. Like he has no fucking clue how not okay this all is.

I don’t try to convince him otherwise. I wipe my eyes and force a pained smile.

“I should go. The kids are probably worried I’m out here forcing you into sex again.” I laugh despite my distress.

He chuckles and kisses me on the forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning to make everyone breakfast. Nine?”

I nod, take a step away from him, and give him one last look.

“Goodnight, Ethan. Thank you… for everything.”

Then, before I fall apart again, I hurry inside and close the door without looking back at him.

Back pressed to the inside of the door, Marin sees me over the top of her phone from the couch.

“Mom? What’s wrong? Are you crying?” She stands and walks toward me.

I shake my head, wiping my eyes, waiting for my breathing to steady or my heart to give out.

“I’m fine, it’s fine,” I say, forcing yet another smile I don’t feel. “I have a surprise for you guys. I knew when you got back, you wouldn’t be up for much more of all of this, so we are actually flying home tomorrow. It’s early. We have to be at the airport at 6:30, but we’ll be in our own beds by tomorrow night. Grandpa and Poppy are picking us up in Miami.”

“Hallelujah!” Finn drops his head back on the couch in relief. “No offense, Mom, this has been great, but I can’t wait to be home.”

His honesty makes me laugh.

Marin lowers her voice. “Is that why you’re upset? You said goodbye to Ethan?”

“Something like that.” I say, smiling for real this time, running my fingers through her hair. “Now, you two go pack your backpacks with as much as you can. I didn’t buy luggage so let’s just pray that the airline will accept our trash bags.” I sniff through the last of my tears. “Uber will be here early.”

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