Page 62 of When We Are Falling

I tilt my head to look at him, seeing the depth in the gunmetal gray of his eyes. My voice is soft, only for him: “Yeah, we do.”

We pack up and start walking back toward the parking lot, Bandit trotting happily beside us. Glancing around at the other volunteers, feeling a deep sense of camaraderie. Joy catches my eye and grins.

Ethan drops Bandit at home and we head back to the Tavern to meet everyone, where he buys a round for all the volunteers. With the whole team here, the place is buzzing with laughter and chatter.

Serving out the drinks, it seems like some things in my life are finally falling into place. There’s a sense of accomplishment in the air, together with the rock-solid bond between me and Ethan, and for a moment, I allow myself to bask in it.

But then my phone pings, and in those moments before I check to see who it is, the twin shadows of Mama Charlotte’s absence and my worry about David creep in like unwelcome guests. Unease settles over me.

Once all the drinks are poured, I excuse myself and pull out my phone, only to see a message from David:How could you do this to me?

A sharp ache spreads through my chest, and I swallow hard, my throat suddenly sore, scraped dry, like a piece of sandpaper is wedged there. I glance up—Ethan is across the room, his eyes filled with concern as he watches me. A smile forced in place, not wanting to ruin the mood or worry him more than he already is.

Heading back to the others, where their laughter echoes off the walls, making the sound louder and brighter, I catch the end of Carlos’ story. “You should have seen Tom,” he says. “The way he handled that pelican like a pro.”

“Except for the fact that the damned bird escaped five times, and I had to see a doctor about the wounds on my hands!” Tom holds up his still healing hands.

“Battle scars,” Carlos replies, clapping Tom on the back. “Wear them proudly.”

Ethan stands up, holding up his glass. “Alright, everyone, listen up!” The chatter quiets down, all eyes turning to him. “I just want to say how proud I am of all of us. We’ve made incredible progress, and I couldn’t ask for a better team. Here’s to cleaning up the rest of this mess and bringing our beautiful town back to its former glory!”

“Cheers!” We all raise our glasses, the clinking sound filling the room.

Someone cranks up the music, and before long, lively beats have people swaying and dancing. Tom grabs Lucy’s hand, twirling her around the room, while Carlos starts an impromptu dance-off with Joy and a couple of her friends, each move more ridiculous and entertaining than the last.

I glance over at Ethan, who’s watching the scene with a relaxed expression. “Care to dance, Mr. Boss Man?” I tease, nudging him playfully.

“I’ve told you before, I have two left feet.”

“Come on, I’ll make it worth your while later.”

He drains his glass and sets it down with a serious expression. “How can I say no to that?” Taking my hand, he leads me to the dance floor. The warmth of his touch sends a thrill through me, and we start moving to the beat, even though Ethan still looks way out of his comfort zone.

“Look at you, who’d have thought you’d turn into one of those guys who dances when his girlfriend asks?”

“Is this foryou? I thought we were dancing because you wanted the others to see my new smooth moves.” He leans in, kissing the side of my cheek before his mouth stops beside myear. A whisper: “I’m joking. Of course it’s for you. I’d move mountains for you, princess. I’d dance myself to fucking death. Anything you want.”

He’s staring at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world to him, and a wide smile splits my face.

“I live for that smile,” he says. And for a moment we’re still, in our own tiny bubble in a room full of movement and energy.

Then Ethan spins me around and turns his back to me, setting my hands on his hips, starting a conga line, weaving through the crowd, picking up more and more dancers as we go. He glances over his shoulder and winks. “I meant it when I saidanything.”

As the afternoon progresses, the dancing continues, people taking turns showing off their best—and worst—moves. Everything feels so light: a celebration of our hard work and community spirit. Then the music shifts to a slower song, and Ethan pulls me close, our bodies swaying together. It’s a perfect moment, surrounded by friends, our town slowly healing, and the man I’m falling for holding me tight.

Ethan leans down, his lips brushing my ear. “This is exactly what we needed,” he murmurs.

My heart is full. “Yeah, it really is.”

We dance like that for a while, lost in each other and the music, until the song ends and we take our places either side of the bar. As the sun dips lower in the sky, the crew starts to filter out, and the Tavern slowly quiets down, slipping back into its new normal. A couple of regulars sit at the bar, nursing their drinks, but otherwise the place is empty.

Ethan pulls out his laptop and takes a seat at a corner table. The soft glow of the screen illuminates his face as he catches up on some work, fingers flying over the keyboard. He glances up occasionally, catching sight of me moving behind the bar,cleaning up and putting things in order. It’s comforting to know he’s here, even if we’re not talking.

Evening finally comes, and it’s time to close. As I wipe down the bar, Ethan stands beside me, sandalwood and his distinctly masculine scent reaching me moments before his touch, his tender hand reaching out, gently squeezing my shoulder. “You okay, princess?”

“Yeah, just a lot on my mind.”

He doesn’t push, just stays there, a comforting presence. “You wanna talk about it?.”

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