Page 50 of It's Only Ever Been You

Taking a deep breath, I grab my bag and step out into the cool evening air. The lobby is quiet when I walk in, the soft murmur of conversation from a nearby seating area the only sound. As I head toward the elevator, I catch a glimpse of a familiar figure sitting in one of the leather chairs.

Ethan.

He’s leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees, his phone in his hand. He looks… different. Older, of course, but there’s something else—something in the set of his shoulders, the way his jaw tightens as he types. He’s not the same boy I knew in college. He’s a man now, and the realization sends a jolt through me.

For a split second, I consider turning around, pretending I didn’t see him. But before I can move, he looks up. His eyes meet mine, and the world seems to slow.

“Emma,” he says, his voice low, almost hesitant.

I swallow hard, forcing myself to take a step forward. “Hey, Ethan.”

And just like that, everything I’ve been running from catches up with me.

He stands as I approach, slipping his phone into his pocket. For a moment, neither of us says anything, the weight of years pushing down between us. His eyes sweep over me, a flicker of something—relief? Surprise?—crossing his face before it’s gone.

“You look… good,” he says finally, his voice quieter than I expected. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” I reply, my fingers tightening around the strap of my bag. “It has.”

The awkwardness is almost unbearable, and I glance toward the elevator, considering an escape. But then he takes a step closer, and suddenly, the air between us shifts.

“Emma, I—” He stops, running a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. “I didn’t think I’d see you until the wedding.”

“Same,” I admit, my heart pounding. “Guess fate has other plans.”

His lips twitch, almost like he wants to smile, but it doesn’t quite happen. Instead, he nods toward the seating area. “Do you… want to sit? Talk for a bit?”

I hesitate, every instinct telling me to say no. But then I catch the look in his eyes—vulnerable, searching—and against my better judgment, I nod.

“Sure,” I say, my voice barely audible.

We sit across from each other, the small table between us feeling more like a wall. He leans forward,his hands clasped, while I keep mine in my lap, fidgeting with the edge of my bag.

“How have you been?” he asks, his tone careful, like he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing.

“Good,” I say, though the word feels hollow. “Busy. Work’s been… a lot.”

He nods, but his eyes never leave mine. “I’m glad. You deserve good things, Em.”

The sincerity in his voice catches me off guard, and I look away, my chest tightening. “What about you? How’s… everything?”

“It’s been… fine,” he says, though the hesitation in his voice tells me otherwise. “Football keeps me busy. It’s a lot of pressure, but I can’t complain.”

We lapse into silence, the unspoken words lingering between us, thickening the air with tension. I want to ask him why he’s here, why he wants to talk. But I’m afraid of the answer.

The hum of the hotel lobby is a constant undercurrent, blending with the faint clink of glasses from the nearby bar and the scent of freshly brewed coffee. It’s a comforting backdrop, but it does nothing to calm the erratic thrum of my pulse as Ethan leans forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“I thought about reaching out,” he says suddenly, breaking the silence. “So many times, but… I wasn’t sure if you’d want to hear from me.”

I blink, thrown off. My grip tightens on the strap of my bag, my fingers pressing into the leather. “Why wouldn’t I?” My voice comes out quieter than I intended, almost swallowed by the hum of conversation around us.

He lets out a soft laugh, but it’s bitter, lacking any real humor. His eyes flick up to meet mine, and for a moment, there’s no wall between us—just raw regret. “Because I walked away,” he says, his voice barely audible over the faint buzz of the air conditioning. “I let you go when I should’ve fought for us.”

My breath catches, the raw honesty in his voice cutting through me like a blade. “Ethan…”

“I screwed up, Em,” he continues, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’ve spent every day since, regretting it. I know there’s no way to fix what I broke, but… I needed you to know that.”

I stare at him, my heart pounding in my chest. This is the moment I’ve imagined a hundred times, the apology I thought I’d never hear. But now that it’s here, I don’t know what to do with it.

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