Page 117 of Fragile Heart

Running a hand across my eyes, I send Lynn the update, too. It’s only a few moments later when she responds.

Totally understand. If you need Melissa, she’s at her place all day.

I focus on the hall leading to the bedrooms, then the clock on the stove. Nearly ten in the morning. Even completely shitfaced, he should be up by now. With a sigh, I grab the extra burrito and head down the hall. I knock on his door twice and then lean against the threshold, slowly counting to fifty in an attempt at patience.

At thirty-nine, the door swings open.

He doesn’t look any better this morning. The vomit is gone, and his hair is damp from a shower I hadn’t heard him take. But his eyes are bloodshot, and there’s a new layer of stubble along his neck where he typically keeps his beard neatly groomed. I hand him the plate, and he glances down at it like he’s not quite sure what to do with it.

“Eat,” I tell him. “And then we need to talk.”

With a sigh, he brushes by me and walks into the kitchen. He slides into a seat at the island and slowly eats the food. I clean up the dishes, keeping my back to him, while he does.

“Is everything all right with Sam?” he asks as I’m putting away the last dish.

“Not unfixable.” I shrug. “Just taking unpaid time off.”

Just like four years ago. Hopefully this time I don’t have to then fill out a leave of absence to bury my Omega. Just the thought has pain slicing through me and stealing my breath. I grab the edge of the counter to keep from collapsing.

“So since my job isn’t on the line at the moment, you get to explain to me why I got a panicked call from Melissa yesterday evening,” I say. All my frustration and anger boil right back to the surface. I turn around and cross my arms over my chest. Ethan’s food is mostly untouched, his hands hidden under the counter. His eyes are locked on me, though. “A call where she was sobbing and telling me I needed to get here. A call where she implied she thought you were going to attempt to kill yourself.”

He flinches. His throat ripples with his swallow. His eyes flutter closed.

“Probably because I was going to,” he whispers after a full minute. “Until I remembered what it felt like to be the one finding the person. So instead I dug out the bottle of whiskey you’ve had stashed for the last two years and drank until I couldn’t feel anything anymore.”

His stark honesty surprises me. Ethan doesn’t talk about shit like this—not without a metric ton of whittling him down and bothering him.

“All right,” I say, trying to keep everything about me neutral. “Why did you hit a point where you wanted to do that in the first place?”

The silence is longer this time. I force myself still.

“If I love her, if I admit to it, then I’ll lose Kayla,” he says. Tortured pain colors his voice. My stomach clenches. “That’s how it feels. By moving on, I lose her. I already can’t remember the way her roses blended with us. Some days I can’t remember the sound of her laugh or the feel of her hand in mine.” He blows out a breath. “I’m already losing her. If I let Brielle in, I’ll lose the last bits I have of her.”

“Ethan,” I murmur.

He grimaces. “And even if I can stomach that…” He shakes his head but keeps his eyes closed. “I had her ten years ago. We… fuck, I can’t even say we dated. I never took her out. We kept it all a secret. But she was mine for that summer. I gave her every first I still had, and I took…”

He trails off.

It’s easy enough to read between the lines.

“You were her first?” I ask. Not really to double check, but to keep him talking. I don’t give a fuck who she slept with first as long as it was a good time for her.

He nods and sucks in a sudden breath. He holds out his right arm. “The West Barn.”

Yeah, that makes sense. I wonder what other memories those tattoos carry. His eyes are haunted when he focuses on me, tears lining the lashes.

“If I have her now, if I tell her exactly how much she means to me, and I can stomach losing Kayla, then I have to confront the ten years I threw away that summer. I could have had her this entire time. She didn’t want to end it, she was ready and willing to figure out a long distance solution.”

He shakes his head before dropping it into his hands.

Fuck, I haven’t seen him this messed up in years.

I cross the kitchen and sit next to him. He leans his head against my shoulder and sobs. I sift through everything he said, trying to decide where to even start. After a few minutes, I clear my throat and wrap an arm around his shoulders.

“You aren’t going to lose Kayla,” I say. “Some things fade over time. I can’t always remember the way she’d smile. But my body remembers it when my mind can’t. Even as you make new memories with Camden and me and even Brielle, you won’t lose her. Not if we talk about her and remember her, just like we do with Brandon.”

He shudders in a breath and slowly sits up. I let my arm drop.

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