“Would you let me stay for your social meetings?”
Understanding hit me in waves, the weight of every letdown I’d caused crashing over me. All I wanted was to fix it, to fixus. “Of course I would,” I said without hesitation. “I’d keep you by my side at all times.”
“You’d introduce me to your dad, your friends?”
I smiled at the sweetness of his question. “I wouldn’t subject anyone to my father,” I joked lightly. “And I don’t have friends, you know that.”
“We’re pretending, remember?”
“So, in this scenario, I’m neither jaded nor antisocial?”
Ethan shook his head, a faint grin forming.
“Then yes. You’d be my trophy. I’d show you off every chance I got.”
His lips curved into a playful smile. “Where would you take me?”
“You mean when you’re not tied to my bed?”
“Yes, exactly. When you’re not being an absolute pervert,” he teased, his voice light but tinged with affection.
I smirked. “I’d take you everywhere. Paris to indulge in pastries. Italy to drink wine in vineyards. Greece for grappa and to smash dishes. Bali to swim. Iceland to see the northern lights. Hell, I’d even take you to Antarctica to freeze your ass off at that igloo camp.”
He chuckled, his eyes softening as I went on.
“I’d take you everywhere, just to see you smile like that all the time.”
But that smile faltered. His gaze drifted over my face as though he were searching for something. He licked his lips, seemingly steeling himself, before scooting closer.
His voice dropped to a whisper, but the intensity in his eyes didn’t waver. “I love you, Ash.”
The words hung in the air between us.
The smile slipped from my face, and the room fell into an unbearable, suffocating silence.
Ethan’s eyes kept scanning my face as my brain struggled to catch up to his words, to make sense of what he had just said.
I shook my head softly, and his face fell.
I sat up on the bed, turning my back to him.
“Ash…”
“No, you don’t,” I said, my voice tight.
My chest felt like it was going to burst, the terror gripping me more than the tiny flicker of happiness his words sparked. I had fucked up. This was my fault. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this. I had been a complete idiot, letting things get so out of control. One fucking week, and I’d forgotten why this was important—why it wasn’t supposed to happen.
“I do,” he insisted.
I closed my eyes tightly, trying to smother the guilt clawing its way up my throat. “You’re just confusing things, Ethan. It’s not like that. This isn’t love.”
“I know you don’t want to hear it,” he said quietly, “but I’m not confused. I know what I’m feeling.”
I pushed off the bed, pacing the room to keep the weight of it all from crushing me.
“You wanted to know why I was upset—this is why,” Ethan said, his voice rising with emotion. “This has felt so fucking real lately. Then you asked me to leave, and it just hurt, Ash. It hurt because I don’t want to hide this. It’s not new, either. I’ve been feeling this way since before we even left.”
“We talked about this,” I said, my tone sharper than I intended.