Page 91 of When We Are Falling

Blake

Ethanand I continue to sit at the table in stunned silence. The low hum of the restaurant around us is distant, like it’s happening in another world entirely, and my thoughts are racing, trying to process what just happened.

He finally looks at me, guilt etched into his handsome face. His gray eyes, usually so clear and steady, are dark, and there’s a weight in his gaze, the curl of his hair falling over his forehead. He absently pushes it back.

“Blake, I’m so sorry.” His voice is quiet. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. Shit. This couldn’t have gone any worse.”

As he apologizes, my initial shock starts to give way to something darker. It’s not just about lunch. This is just another example of him trying to fix things, trying to get me to let him in, to rely on him, not listening to me when I try to keep him at arm’s length so I can keep my independence.

And Ihaveto keep my independence. It’s the only safe way.

My heart pounds, each beat fueling the thoughts that have been simmering inside. I think back to the night on the boardwalk when he stepped in without asking, when he decided he knew what was best for me, disregarding my ability to handle the situation, handle David.

He still sees me as someone who needs rescuing, instead of someone who’s perfectly capable of dealing with their own shit.

The ache in my chest sharpens, morphing. My moms justwalked out on me. How could he put me in this situation? The hurt twists into something hot and furious, burning deep inside me, pushing me to the brink until all the tension snaps. “What the hell were you thinking?” My words spill out, raw, hands trembling as I grip the edge of the table, a vein pulsing over a whitened knuckle.

“Princess—”

“You set this up without even telling me? You invited my moms to lunch? What did you think would happen?”

Ethan’s face falls. He leans forward, his hands reaching across the table, but I pull back, unable to let him touch me right now.

“I was just trying to help.” He holds my gaze. “I wanted you to know that you’re surrounded by people who love you.”

The words are meant to be comforting, but the more he tries to help me, the more suffocated I feel, like he’s trying to take away the independence I’ve fought so hard to maintain. If I let myself rely on him, what happens when he decides he’s had enough? When he leaves, just like everyone else?

“Do you really think you can just fix everything? You don’t get it, Ethan. It’s not your job to fixanything.” I’m teetering on the edge of something dark and endless, and I can’t pull myself back. Everything is falling apart, including me, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. All I can do is try to keep myself safe the only way I know how.

His expression tightens, and there’s conflict in his eyes—he’s struggling to find the right words. But there are no right words, not right now.

“The only thing I was trying to fix wasus,” he finally says. “Why can’t we compromise or talk about anything that matters? Why won’t you listen to me about anything, ever?”

“Your idea of compromise is me doing exactly what you say.”

“That’s not true. You’re just not seeing what’s right in front of you: you’re surrounded by people who will always stand by you, including me. You’re not your past, but you’re letting it destroy your future.”

“Always stand by me? Really? Because that’s not what I just saw. They’re gone, Ethan. Just like everyone else. And you—” I shake my head, my words tumbling out in a rush. “You think you’re helping, but you crossed a line. This is my life, my family, and you keep barging in like you know what’s best for me. Like Ineedyou.”

Ethan’s eyes flash. “I know you’re upset about your moms. It was a mistake to get them together. They’re dealing with their own issues, but that doesn’t mean they won’t always be here for you. I’m just trying to show you that you’re not alone, that you have people who care about you.”

“You think you know—”

He holds up a hand, cutting me off. “Just listen for once. You can lean on me and your moms about David, about anything. If you need me to drive you somewhere late at night to deal with a tricky situation, I’ll do it. If you need help cleaning the bar at the end of a long day, I’m there. Don’t push me away.”

The emotions tearing through me triangulate at his words, centering on one thing—fear. Fear that he’s right, that I’m pushing him away when I should be letting him in. Fear of what might happen if I do let him in, how I’ll cope when the inevitable happens and he leaves. And fear that even if I let him in, Idon’t know how to do that without losing myself in the process. I’m caught between wanting to keep him close and needing to protect myself.

And protecting myself is the only safe option. I don’t know much, but I know that.

He reaches out like he’s trying to stroke my cheek, but I pull back, recoiling from his touch. “No. I need to handle my own business, my own life. I can’t keep doing this.”

His face falls, his internal struggle playing out in his eyes. “Blake, please. Don’t do this.”

I look out the window beside our table, at the blue of the sea outside, grappling with what I need to do, even as it tears me apart.

“Hey,” he says gently. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry. We can’t do this anymore.”

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