Page 39 of When Hearts Remember

The anger in his voice is baffling, and a pinch of guilt eats away in my gut. I know he’s right. What if I get hurt and undo months of progress?

What if I slip into a coma again?

The familiar tendrils of fear strangle my throat. It keeps me up at night—not knowing what happened in the past and whether I’ll slip into a state of nothingness again.

But I don’t appreciate his attitude.

“Ethan. Just because you’re my brother’s best friend, doesn’t make you my brother, okay? Your point is noted and I’ll be more careful in the future, but don’t you dare raise your voice at me like I’m someone you can boss around. And seriously, what happened to you? Can’t ask nicely and have to command people all the time?”

He stops in his tracks, his icy eyes flaring with something I don’t recognize. “What happened to me?” he rasps. “What happened—” He halts himself, his eyes wild and nostrils flaring.

This man has issues.

I stomp toward him until I’m a foot away.

“I may have gotten nowhere in my life and you may be a hotshot CFO, but that means nothing to me. Iwillget my life back and I won’t have you or anyone around me babysitting me because I’m not fucking fragile, okay?”

My chest heaves, my face on fire, and I want to curl into a ball to cry or run my fist through a punching bag.

Ethan is eerily quiet as he stares at me. His intense gaze misses nothing as he scans my face, like he can read every convoluted thought flashing through my mind.

Another urge slams into me—the need to flee, to hide so he can’t see how desperate and useless I’m feeling.

Wordlessly, he steps forward, his steps measured. But this time, I don’t sense fire and brimstone behind his eyes. They’re soft and gentle and my heart flips and a swooping sensation appears in my gut. It has to be guilt. After all, he did nothing to deserve my irrational bursts of anger.

“Look, I…I’m sorry—”

“It’s nice to see the color on your face again,” he murmurs, stopping a hairsbreadth away.

I crane my neck to look at him, watching as his eyes darken and his lips part for his next words.

“I thought I’d never see it again. The flush.” His low voice is gravelly and intimate, each syllable feeling like a caress on my body. My core clenches. “It’s beautiful.”

His cryptic words barely register. My lips part, my nerves aflame, and I’m hit with an urge to throw myself at him.

What’s wrong with me?

“I shouldn’t have overstepped. I’m sorry. It’s been hard and I don’t know how to tell you…I…I…can’t…” The muscles in his neck work and I watch, riveted at the flush creeping above the collar of his crisp shirt and knotted tie. “Do you know how much the people who cared about you missed you when you were asleep?”

My eyes bounce back to his, and his ever-changing orbs are now blazing with fire, singeing me with their heat.

“You need to take care of yourself because if anything happens to you again, those people would be heartbroken. I don’t think they’d survive it.” Ethan’s nostrils flare, his low, rumbly words sending a frisson of pain spearing into my heart.

My hand flies to my chest, gripping my T-shirt and his eyes snare on the movement.

His lips part, his attention riveted on my hand, which fails to rub away the soreness behind my rib cage. His pulse batters against his temple.

He lifts his index finger toward the bridge of my nose, and my breath stills. My nerves come to life.

“Liam and Charles. They must’ve been devastated,” I whisper.

His gaze snaps back up, and he drops his hand, fisting it before sliding it in his pants pocket. This strange moment of intensity suddenly disappears, a mask of indifference falling over his face.

He steps back and I drag in a deep breath of oxygen.

His silhouette splits, then merges. My vision slowly clears.

“Of course I’m talking about Liam and Charles. They never gave up on you.”

---