Page 51 of It's Only Ever Been You

“Ethan,” I say softly, my voice trembling. “You didn’t just walk away. I let you. I thought… I thought it was what you wanted.”

His brows knit together, pain flashing in his eyes. “It was never what I wanted. Notthen, not now.”

The vulnerability in his voice makes my chest ache, and for the first time in years, I feel the faintest glimmer of hope—fragile and fleeting, but there.

“I don’t know what to say,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Then don’t say anything,” he replies, leaning forward. “Just… don’t walk away. Not yet.”

Chapter Seventeen

Shadows of Yesterday

Ethan

“I’ll think about it,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. Then, before I can respond, she stands, clutching the strap of her bag like it’s a lifeline.

“Goodnight, Ethan,” she says softly, her eyes lingering on me for a moment longer before she turns and heads toward the elevator.

The chair creaks softly beneath me as I lean back, watching Emma walk away toward the elevator. My chest feels tight, like it’s been wrapped in barbed wire, each breath catching on the edges of everything I wanted to say but couldn’t.

Her perfume lingers in the air, faint and familiar, pulling me back to a thousand memories I’ve tried to bury. I drag a hand down my face, letting out a slow, shaky breath. She’s still the same, but different in ways I can’t put my finger on. Older, yes. Wiser, probably. But there’s something else—aguardedness in her eyes that wasn’t there before, a hint of the walls she’s built since I last knew her.

Since I left her.

I push up from the chair, pacing the quiet corner of the lobby as the weight of her words settles over me.

I thought it was what you wanted.

God, how could she think that? I wanted her more than I’ve ever wanted anything, but I was too stupid—too scared—to fight for her. And now? Now I’m standing here, wondering if I’ll ever get the chance to fix what I broke.

I glance toward the elevator, half-tempted to follow her, to say something—anything—that might convince her to stay and talk. But the look in her eyes when she said my name, the way her voice trembled—it’s clear she’s just as shaken as I am.

And I can’t blame her.

The door to the bar swings open, and some of the groomsmen spill out, their laughter loud and carefree. I step back into the shadows, not wanting to be seen, not wanting to answer questions I don’t have the energy for. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out, grateful for the distraction.

Jace’s name lights up the screen.

Jace: Got everything squared away for tomorrow?

I let out a slow breath, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard. I type back quickly.

Me: Yeah, everything’s set. You?

Jace: Think so. Sierra’s running the show, so I’m just trying not to screw it up.

I smirk at that, shaking my head. Classic Jace, always playing it cool. Just as I’m about to slide the phone back into my pocket, another message pops up.

Jace: By the way… saw you with Emma earlier. You good?

The words land with a thud, and I find myself gripping the phone tighter. Of course he saw. He probably passed through the lobby while we were talking. It doesn’t matter.

Me: Yeah, I’m good.

I hesitate, staring at the screen, before adding.

Me: Ran into her downstairs. It was fine.

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