Page 84 of Until We Break

My mouth was suddenly dry, and I chugged the coffee, but it turned into pure acid in my stomach.

“It’s almost identical to your dad’s diagnosis. I didn’t know who else to go to. Who to tell.”

I blinked back tears. “It’s Stage Four?”

He nodded. “You’re the only person I could talk to about it. You know. I was there…” The memory of falling apart in Ethan’s arms the night my father died was too much to remember. I wanted to shut everything down.

I wasn’t able to push his hand away when it encircled mine. “I’m so sorry Ethan. I am. It’s terrible. It’s the worst thing to possibly have to hear and endure. How is your dad taking the news?”

“I don’t know.”

I leaned toward him. “What do you mean? What has he said?”

“We haven’t spoken about it.”

“That’s…that’s…”

“Crazy?” He shrugged. “That’s my dad and me. We don’t talk about anything. Not even a stage four cancer diagnosis.”

“What do you think I can do?” I asked. The shock was beginning to wear off slowly. If I could focus on Ethan again and the conversation maybe I would forget this was how I felt when I heard my father’s diagnosis.

“I don’t have anyone, Margot. You were the best thing in my life. The best person in my life.” He clutched my hand harder. “I don’t think I can get through this without you. And I was there for you.”

I almost choked. He had been my boyfriend at the time, but I didn’t consider him to be the safe comfort I needed during my grief.

“What does that mean?” It was as if I was still underwater, and his words were gargled.

“I want you to come back to New York with me.”

“Your order.” Nan’s voice was sharp as she dropped two plates in front of us. I jerked my hand away from Ethan and looked up at her. She glared at me. I wanted to protest and tell her I wasn’t doing anything Caleb didn’t know about, but there were too many things happening at once.

I eked out a thank you.

“Ethan, I’m not moving back to New York.”

“I get it. You like this country mouse life you have going on.”

“Country mouse?”

“Yeah, that story we heard as kids. The city mouse and the country mouse? You’re living the country mouse version. Barely any wifi. No shopping. No subway. It’s back to basics since you’re book tanked. I get it. You’re finding yourself.”

“I am not a country mouse,” I seethed. “This is my family’s property. I’m running the marina.”

He chuckled. “You want to run a marina?”

“It doesn’t make a difference to you. We broke up. You kicked me out. There’s nothing here that’s about you.”

He exhaled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult your family’s business. Really. I’m desperate. I can’t go through this alone, Margot. I need you.”

My hands felt clammy. The biscuit, which was usually soft, fluffy and fell apart like golden butter tasted like sandpaper in my mouth. I needed to trade my coffee for water.

“I’m not available like that. You met Caleb last night.” I gave up on trying to eat any more of the biscuit and placed it on the plate.

“I’ll pay for everything. You can have half of the apartment. Anything you want, even a writing space and you can work.”

“Ethan. Stop. I don’t understand.”

“I can’t be the one who’s there with my dad. You know what’s going to happen. You’ve been through this. You can tell me what to do, what to say. You know what I should ask the doctors. You’d be there when I got home.”

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