Page 42 of Stolen Fate
“What is it?”
I hated the concerned look in his eyes. I knew he was still affected by the fact that I moved out of the house six years ago for a year without a trace. But that had been necessary. There wouldn’t have been a way for me to hide what I was doing had I been living at home.
I never told him exactly what I did, except that it was a teaching job two hours away. I knew my dad knew I was lying, but he never called me out on it, and he never pushed me for the truth.
“Is it a good thing or a bad thing?” Dad asked.
At my smile, he relaxed a little. “It’s a wonderful thing, Dad.”
“Oh, that’s good. You sure you can’t tell us now?”
I shook my head. “No, I want to wait for Emilia.”
“Okay, my treasure. We’ll wait for Emilia.”
I nodded. “I’m going to get some coffee. Do you want any more?” I pointed to his empty cup.
“Yes, that would be great. Thanks.”
I got up and joined the lineup. I hadn’t realized Ethan followed me until he actually spoke, surprising me.
“Are you sure this is a good thing?” he asked quietly.
I took in my big brother. We weren’t close growing up, but I could remember a time when he had been a good big brother. A little protective, sure, but that was to be expected as the older brother to two little sisters. Emilia and I spent most of our childhood bugging him, wanting him to take us with him wherever he went. Sometimes, he would even indulge us.
We were happy. Then Mom died, and we weren’t anymore.
And now, everything was messed up.
“Yes,” I said slowly, clearly. I wanted him to understand how sure I was about the decision. “It's a good thing, Ethan. For the first time in years, I’m looking forward to my future.”
Ethan raised his hand and I froze when he made a move to swipe his thumb under my eyes. They came away wet, and I didn’t know who was more surprised about the fact that I was crying.
“Then why are you sad, sweetheart?”
I offered a watery smile. “I don’t think I’ve been happy in a very long time. But this is a good thing for me, I promise. I’m… I’m actually kind of excited about it.”
His eyes softened as he took me in. “Yeah?”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with what happened six years ago, does it?”
I shook my head before he even finished talking. “No, and I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I think that’s where you’re wrong. I don’t think you should bottle everything up. We should talk about it. The boy—”
“Please don’t.” I interrupted. I couldn’t handle talking about it now. I just couldn’t. “Please don’t mention him. Not when I’m trying so hard to forget.”
“Should you forget?” he asked, and I hated how perceptive Ethan had become.
“Yes, I should. I need to move on, and I can’t do that if I keep remembering. It just… it hurts too bad to remember, Ethan. Can’t you just let me forget? Can’t you let me be happy?”
The line moved up, and we were next. I turned away from Ethan to put in my order, his presence a heavy, dark shadow I didn’t know how to escape.
He even paid for my drinks, a small consolation for all he had put me through, no doubt. I moved away from the cash register and toward the waiting area for the barista to make our drinks, trying my best to ignore him.
He didn’t order anything, so he didn’t have to wait with me. I opened my mouth to say exactly that when Ethan reached for me and gently turned me around so I was facing him.
“I want you to be happy. I do. You have no idea how much I wished that was the case. I know you’re sad, I know you’re like this because of my fuckup, and for that, I’m so sorry. But I do want you to be happy and, sweetheart, I don’t think you can be happy by forgetting about him.”
