Page 167 of Holding On

I'm afraid to tell him how I feel, but I want to. I know we still have issues to work out and I'm still worried he won't talk to me, but I've given that a lot of thought and Mike is right. Guys can't talk until they're ready to, so maybe that's just how it has to be. I can't force Ethan to talk. I have to wait until he's ready.

"Becca, look at me," Ethan says as we're lying in bed, my head on his chest.

I look up at him and smile. "Yeah?"

"I don't know what tonight is. If it's just sex or if you were just lonely or what...but to me it's more than that."

"That's not—"

"Let me finish." He looks down. "After you broke up with me, I wanted to see you so bad. I wanted to talk to you. I left you all those messages hoping you'd call me back but part of me hoped you wouldn't."

"Why?"

"Because I wasn't ready. I wanted you back but I wasn't ready. But now I am." He swallows. "I wasn't in a good place when we met. Honestly there were some days I just wanted to end it. I blamed myself for what happened. Blamed myself for their deaths. I didn't think I deserved to live."

"Ethan." I feel tears forming and one escapes down my cheek.

"I don't feel that way anymore. Now I love my life. I love it more than I did before the accident. I don't take things for granted anymore. I finally see how lucky I am to have this talent. To have the opportunities I've been given. I finally feel good about my future. The only thing missing is someone to share it with." He reaches down to hold my hand, which is resting on his chest. "Like I said before, I don't know why you came here tonight. Maybe this is goodbye. But I hope not, because..." He sets his eyes on mine. "I love you, Becca. I love you so damn much. I know I didn't treat you well and I probably don't deserve you, but if you gave me another chance, I promise you—"

"Don't," I say, stopping him. "I don't need promises. You love me and that's all I care about."

"But what does that mean? For us?"

"It means I love you, and want to be with you."

"Then why did you leave me?"

I sit up and face him. "Because I needed you to talk to me. I saw how much you were hurting and I wanted to help you, but when you wouldn't let me I had to leave. I couldn't love you and see you hurting like that and not be able to help. And you were angry. So angry. And you were taking it out on me. I wasn't going to let you treat me that way."

He sits up and takes me in his arms. "I know, and I'm so sorry I acted that way. I wish I could take it all back."

I pull away and look at him. "If we do this, if we get back together, I need you to at least try to let me in. I know talking about stuff isn't easy for you but maybe we could work on that together. I won't push you. I'll let you tell me when you're ready. I just need to know you trust me enough to tell me things. And to let me help you when you need it. I want to be the person you go to, Ethan. And I want you to be that person for me."

"You already are that person. You always were. I just had to deal with some things myself before I could you let you in. But I'm ready to now."

"I don't understand. If you wanted me back, why did you act like you weren't interested when you saw me at the restaurant earlier?"

He grins. "I was playing hard to get."

"But you called and left me messages every day. That's not exactly playing hard to get."

"Sure it is. I kept you guessing. My messages asked you to call me. I never said why. You had to call me if you wanted to find out. And look how upset you got when, after all those phone messages, I just sat there tonight at the restaurant and ate my chicken. I didn't even attempt to flirt with you, which drove you crazy. So crazy you showed up at my door at midnight."

"I'm sure at the restaurant you could tell how much I wanted you. I was totally breathless."

He chuckles. "Yeah, you were."

I kiddingly hit him. "Then why didn't you say something? You could've at least flirted a little so I'd know you were interested."

"I couldn't. I had to let you come to me. I've heard that's the best way to deal with people who are extremely stubborn. You have to let them come to you."

"I'm not stubborn!" I hit him again.

"Are you kidding me? He laughs. "You're the most stubborn person I've ever met. And my technique worked. You showed up."

"Whatever," I mumble.

"Come here." He hugs me, then kisses my head and lies us back down on the bed.

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