Page 67 of Big Island Summer
“I just lost my wife, Em. I hardly know whereIam half of the time.” He slumped against the door of his truck, looking exhausted.
“I know the feeling.”
He scoffed, and Emma’s temper flared. Her twin brother could get under her skin like no one else.
“What?” she snapped.
“You basically disappeared when we lost Adam.”
She stared at him, slack jawed. “Myhusbanddied.”
“Yeah. So did my wife. But I don’t have the luxury of hibernating for months like you did.”
“He was myrock,” she said, her voice low and fierce. “He was myperson.”
“And she was mine.”
“Don’t you dare compare him to her! She spent half of your marriage in rehab, Ethan! It’s not the same!”
“No,” he said quietly. “It’s not.”
Emma put a hand over her mouth, horrified by her outburst.
Ethan straightened and moved to open the door to his truck.
“I should go.”
“No, wait.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I miss him too.” His voice was quiet. “We wereallgrieving for Adam. We still are.”
“I’m sorry for what I said. And I’m sorry about Laurel. I do miss her, in spite of everything.”
Ethan settled against his truck again, starting off into the distance.
“Losing her felt like getting my heart ripped out of my chest. But there was also this feeling of… relief? Because at least it was thelasttime she would rip my heart out. The last time she would do that to Jun. And Teddy won’t have to grow up wondering if his mom will still be alive when he gets home from school. He won’t have to carry that, not like Jun did. But then the fact that I was even the littlest bit relieved made me feel even worse.”
Ethan took a ragged breath and pressed his hands to his eyes.
“There’s a part of me that’s glad she’s gone,” he said after a minute. He dropped his hands and gave her an imploring look. “What kind of sick son of a bitch is glad his wife died?”
“You’re not happy, Ethan.”
“No. I’m not.”
“And if you’re relieved, well… I can understand that.”
“I wanted her to get better. I needed her to get better.”
“And I want my husband back,” she said gently. “But we don’t always get what we want.”
“Do we get what we need?” His voice hitched on the poor attempt at a joke.
“Yeah. I think we do. I did, at least.”
“I need Juniper to be okay.”
“She is,” Emma assured him. “She’s as okay as anybody can be after a loss like that. She’s getting through it. She’s throwing all of her energy into work, which has got to be one of the healthiest coping mechanisms she could opt for.”
