Page 57 of It's Only Ever Been You

The honesty in his eyes cuts through my defenses, exposing every raw nerve I’ve tried to keep hidden. My heart is pounding so loudly I’m sure he can hear it, and I don’t know if I want to cry or scream.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I admit finally, my voice breaking. “I don’t know if I can risk it all again and survive losing you a second time.”

“You won’t lose me,” he says, his voice steady and certain as he leans closer. “I swear, Emma. I’m here now. I’m not running, and I’m not going to let yourun, either. I want you back, and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I’m not the same guy who left.”

The conviction in his words leaves me breathless, and for a moment, I let myself believe him. But the fear, the doubt, is still there, clawing at the edges of my resolve.

“I can’t make that decision right now,” I say finally, my voice cracking under the strain. “I need time to figure out if this is something I want again.”

His hand covers mine, warm and grounding. “Take all the time you need,” he says softly. “But know this: I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait, Emma. For as long as it takes, I’ll wait.”

The sincerity in his voice is almost too much, and I pull my hand back, the loss of his touch making me ache even more. Standing, I sling my bag over my shoulder, my throat so tight I can barely speak. “I should go.”

Ethan stands too, his gaze unwavering, the fire in his eyes unrelenting. “Okay,” he says. “But just so you know… I’m going to fight for us this time,” he says, his voice low but resolute. “You’ll see, Emma. I’m not walking away—not again.”

I nod, unable to say anything else, and turn away. As I walk away, the tears I’ve been holding back finally spill over, streaking hot and fast down my cheeks. The weight of his words presses into me, heavy and bittersweet, and every step feels harder than the last.

This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Chapter Nineteen

Lingering Heat

Ethan

The room feels too quiet, too still, the faint hum of the air conditioner doing nothing to drown out the thoughts in my head. I sit on the edge of the bed, my phone resting on the nightstand, her last words replaying in my mind.

I need time to figure out if this is something I want again.

The words are simple on the surface, but they’ve been digging into me since the moment she walked away. I let out a slow breath, dragging my hands down my face. Time. She deserves that, deserves the space to figure out what she wants. But God help me, the waiting is already killing me.

I push off the bed and start pacing, the carpet muffling my restless footsteps. My thoughts keep drifting to the way she looked at me, her eyes a mix of vulnerability and strength. She’s still Emma—the same girl who used to curl up on my couch with a book, stealing glances at me like she thought Iwouldn’t notice. But there’s something about her now, something that makes my chest ache and my blood heat at the same time.

I glance toward the window, the city lights spilling through the curtains, painting streaks of silver and gold across the walls. My mind slips into dangerous territory, replaying the way her lips parted when she spoke, the way her hands fidgeted with the strap of her bag. I can almost feel her in front of me again, the scent of her perfume, the warmth of her body radiating in the space between us.

Before I can stop myself, I’m lying back on the bed, my eyes closing and my mind conjuring memories from the the past.

My mind drifts back to that summer before college and before everything went to hell, to the way she used to look at me when she thought I wasn’t paying attention. There was always something unguarded about her then, something soft. I used to crave those moments, the ones where it felt like the world faded, and it was just the two of us.

I’d wake up some mornings to find her curled up on the couch in my sweatshirt, her hair a mess, her face peaceful. She didn’t know I’d stop and just…watch her. Like she was something sacred, something I couldn’t believe I was lucky enough to have in my life.

Now I hear the hum of the night pressing in around me, and I’m caught in a whirlwind of memory anddesire. Or maybe it’s just my subconscious betraying me, pulling me into something I’ve imagined a thousand times but never allowed myself to truly believe could’ve happened.

We’re in my car, parked at the edge of a quiet overlook. The city lights below are a scattered patchwork of gold and silver, flickering like the stars above. Emma’s sitting beside me, her hair falling in loose waves over her shoulders, her laughter soft and melodic as it fills the space between us. The windows are slightly fogged, the cool night air meeting the warmth inside.

“Ethan,” she says, her voice low, her tone teasing. “Are you even listening to me?”

I turn to her, the corner of my mouth tugging up in a grin. “I’m listening. You were saying something about… physics? Or was it your latest book obsession?”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t fight the smile tugging at her lips. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright, and it’s like I can feel the air shift between us, charged and heavy. I’ve felt this before—a dozen times, a hundred—but now, there’s no holding back, no fear of what might happen next.

I reach out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. She freezes, her breath catching, her gaze locked on mine. “Emma…”

The way her name feels on my tongue is electric, grounding and electrifying all at once. She doesn’t pull away; instead, she leans into my touch, her eyes searching mine for something I’m not sure I can name.

“Ethan,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “We can’t—”

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