Page 71 of It's Only Ever Been You

Tears spill down my cheeks, and I end the call before I lose the last bit of composure I have left. His words echo in my mind, both comforting and terrifying. Because for all the love I feel for him, I still don’t know if I can let myself believe that we can make this work.

I slip my phone back into my clutch and turn toward the path leading farther into the garden, the night stretching endlessly ahead.

Chapter Twenty Five

Found and Claimed

Ethan

The door to my hotel room clicks shut behind me, and the silence feels deafening. For the first time all day, I’m alone with my thoughts—and they’re relentless.

Emma’s face is all I see. The way her lips trembled when she told me she couldn’t do this. The way she refused to look me in the eye, as if she couldn’t bear the weight of what she was saying. She walked away like she was trying to save herself, but all she’s done is leave me standing in the rubble.

I pace the room, running a hand through my hair as the memory of her words slice through me. I’ve faced game-day losses, career-ending injuries looming over my head, but this… This is something else entirely. This is the woman I love telling me I’m not enough for her to stay.

And I don’t know how to fix it.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand, and I snatch it up, half-hoping it’s her. It’s not. Just Jace, texting about tomorrow’s post-wedding brunch.

I toss the phone back onto the bed and drop my head into my hands, trying to keep the panic at bay. I’ve never felt this helpless in my life. Emma’s the one person I’ve always wanted more than anything, and she’s slipping through my fingers again.

I grab my phone again, my thumb hovering over her name. I’ve already talked to her tonight and it didn’t go well. But the thought of leaving things like this is unbearable.

Ethan: Emma, I need to know you’re okay. Please talk to me.

I send it before I can overthink. I set the phone down, staring at it like sheer willpower might make her reply. When it stays silent, I can’t help but think back to the moments we’ve shared since I got here—the way she laughed at my dumb jokes, the way her body fit against mine last night like it was made for me. How did we go from that to this?

My chest tightens, and I let out a frustrated groan, dragging my hands down my face. I want to punch something, yell, do anything to release this building pressure inside me. But none of it will fix what’s broken between us.

A knock at the door pulls me out of my spiral. For a second, I think I imagined it. But thenit comes again, louder this time. I cross the room, my pulse spiking as I swing the door open.

Emma’s standing there.

Her eyes are red-rimmed, her face pale. She’s still wearing her dress from the reception, but her arms are wrapped around herself like she’s trying to hold herself together.

“I need to talk to you,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

I step aside without a word, and she walks in, her heels clicking against the floor. I shut the door, turning to face her. She’s standing in the middle of the room, looking like she might fall apart any second.

“What’s going on, Emma?” My voice comes out rougher than I intend, but I don’t try to soften it. “What are you doing here?”

Her gaze flickers to mine, and she takes a shaky breath. “I need to know the truth.”

“About what?” I ask, my frustration bubbling over. “What could I possibly say that I haven’t already? I love you, Emma. I want to be with you. I thought I made that clear.”

She flinches, her arms tightening around herself. “I overheard you on the phone last night,” she blurts out, the words tumbling out in a rush. “You said you needed to get out of here as soon as thewedding was over. That you’d be back in the city by Monday.”

I stare at her, my mind reeling. That’s what this is about? “You think I’m leaving you?” I take a step closer, my voice rising. “You think I’m here just to… what? Have one last fling before I go back to my life?”

Her silence speaks volumes, and it feels like a punch to the gut. “Jesus, Emma.” I drag a hand through my hair, pacing away from her. “That call wasn’t about leaving you. It was about… about making sure I had time to finalize things with my agent before I stayed longer. I told him I needed to handle something important here. You.”

She stares at me, her mouth slightly open, as if she’s trying to process my words. “You… you weren’t talking about leaving?”

“No,” I say, my voice cracking. “I was trying to make this work. To make us work.”

Her face crumples, and she takes a step back, like the realization of her misunderstanding is finally hitting her. “Ethan, I…”

I cut her off, my voice breaking as the emotions I’ve been holding back finally overwhelm me. “Do you have any idea what it feels like to love someone this much? To spend years wanting them, only for them to walk away because they don’t believe you’reall in?”

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