Page 65 of It's Only Ever Been You

Sarah doesn’t just walk away—she storms off, her steps brisk and purposeful, her shoulders trembling despite her attempt to hold herself together. Her head is still held high, but the visible shake in her hands betrays how upset she truly is.

Jace stands there, staring after her, his jaw tight, his hands clenched at his sides. I feel a pang of guilt for witnessing such a private moment, but I remind myself I have my own problems to sort through.

I debate on whether I should go after her but ultimately decide not to because I think she needs some time after whatever just transpired between her and Jace.

……………………………………………………………

By the time the rehearsal begins, the tension coiled inside me feels unbearable. My mind keeps replaying what I saw between Sarah and Jace, their words laced with something that’s starting to make sense. And then there’s Ethan—our night together, the promises we made,plus the fear that it might not be enough to bridge the years we’ve lost. Add to that the chaos of the day, the smiles and pleasantries I’ve forced for hours, and it’s a wonder I haven’t unraveled completely.

Ethan and I are paired together, walking arm in arm down the makeshift aisle. His hand brushes mine, the small touch grounding me even as it sends a jolt of awareness through my body.

He glances at me, his expression unreadable, and I offer him a small, tentative smile. My nerves are frayed, not from anything specific he’s done, but from everything hanging between us—the unspoken questions, the hopes, the fears.

“Emma,” he says softly, his voice barely audible over the hum of conversation.

I meet his gaze this time, letting the warmth in his eyes settle something fragile inside me. “Yeah?” I whisper back, unsure of what he’s going to say.

Before he can respond, we’re ushered forward, and the moment slips away. As we reach the end of the aisle, he lingers a second longer beside me, his hand brushing mine before we part ways to join the others.

I catch a glimpse of Ethan watching me from across the room, his brow furrowed like he’s trying to work up the courage to say something. My stomach twists, not in fear but in anticipation. I want to know what’s on his mind, but before I can make a move toward him, someone calls his name, and the moment is lost.

As the rehearsal wraps up, I’m left with a strange mix of hope and apprehension. I want to believe in the things Sarah said, want to trust the way Ethan has looked at me all day, like I’m his whole world. But the thought of saying those words out loud terrifies me. So instead, I keep my thoughts tucked away, hoping the right moment will come to finally lay them bare.

I try to shake off the lingering nerves as I follow the others toward the reception hall, but they cling to me, a shadow I can’t escape. Each cheerful voice and laugh around me feels like a jarring contrast to the storm brewing inside.

Rehearsal ends and we’re ushered toward the reception hall for the rehearsal dinner. The room is buzzing with energy, laughter echoing off the walls as Jace and Sierra’s friends and family find their seats. Ethan lingers near the entrance, caught inconversation with one of the groomsmen, and I find myself gravitating toward Sarah, seeking the safety of her familiarity.

“Ready for round two?” she teases, nudging me as we make our way inside. Her lightheartedness tugs a small smile from me, but my stomach twists, the nerves from earlier refusing to ease.

As I take my seat, I glance around the room, searching for Ethan. My gaze lands on him just as he steps outside, his phone pressed to his ear. His brow is furrowed, his expression tight, and something about his posture makes me pause. He looks… tense.

Curiosity—or maybe an instinct I can’t quite name—pulls me to my feet. I tell Sarah I’m just stepping out for air as I walk toward the door Ethan just slipped through.

His voice reaches me before I see him, low and clipped. “I know the timing’s terrible, but I can’t just ignore this. You know how important this deal is. I just need to get through this weekend.”

I stop short, staying just out of sight, my heart pounding. He sounds… impatient, frustrated. My mind races, trying to piece together the conversation.

“Yeah, I’ll be back in the city by Monday,” he continues, the words hitting me like a physical blow. “I need to get out of here as soon as this wedding’s over.”

The blood drains from my face, my breath catching in my throat. Back to the city? Leaving? The words swirl in my head, the meaning hitting harder than I expect. He’s already planning to leave. Again. I understand he has to go back to his life but…he promised this time would be different.

I turn on my heel before I hear anything else, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me. By the time I’m back inside, the noise of the rehearsal dinner feels overwhelming, the laughter and chatter clashing with the storm building inside me.

I sink into my seat, willing myself to hold it together until I can leave. My hands tremble as I grip my napkin, my mind spinning with the implications of what I’ve just heard. Maybe I misunderstood. Maybe there’s more to the story. But the ache in my chest tells me it doesn’t matter. The fear I’ve been trying to ignore is already starting to take root.

I can’t confront him—not yet. Not when the thought of hearing him confirm my worst fears feels like it might break me completely. So instead, I swallow down the lump in my throat, pretending everything is fine as I fight to keep myself together.

Chapter Twenty Three

Shifting Sands

Ethan

The buzz of the rehearsal dinner starts to wind down, but Emma still hasn’t quite been herself. All evening, she’s been smiling when someone talks to her, laughing in all the right places, but something’s missing. She hasn’t looked at me—not really. Every time I catch her eyes, she glances away like she’s afraid of what I might see.

It’s like trying to hold onto sand; the harder I try, the more she slips through my fingers.

After the last toast is made and plates start to clear, I finally catch her by the door. “Hey,” I say, keeping my voice light even though my chest feels tight. “You want to come back to my room? We can… talk.”

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