Page 75 of Chloé

Doctors? Why would he need a doctor?

He wanted to see his mom and dad. Where were they? Why wouldn’t these ladies go and get them?

But before he could try to ask, the voices faded until they disappeared completely, and that sliver of light that had been his one shining spot of hope vanished—and he was once again swallowed by the black void…

“OH ETHAN.” CHLOÉ looked up at him, tears brimming in her eyes all over again. “I’m so sorry.”

He reached for her face and cupped it in his palm as he wiped away a tear. “Thank you. But it’s okay. I’m okay. That was a long time ago, and while some days are more difficult than others, I’m able to look back now and rememberbeforethe accident. To the happier times.”

“Like the gelato?”

He drew a lock of her hair between his thumb and forefinger and nodded. “Like the gelato.”

Chloé swallowed. “Why didn’t you go to their funeral?”

“I was in a coma for around three weeks. The truck that hit us—or ran into the store—was small. It was used for fishing down off the pier. The man must’ve traveled the road every day for thirty-odd years, but on that day the steering went out and the brakes failed.”

Chloé covered her mouth, her eyes relaying the same kind of horror his mom’s had, and Ethan nodded.

“It came from behind. Mom saw it coming. It hit my dad first as my mom grabbed me and threw me out of the way, then it hit her. They were killed on impact. I got a broken arm and was knocked unconscious. My father’s assistant had me transported back to the States, to one of the top hospitals. But I was out for another two weeks once I got there. They said it was part head trauma and part shock. My body’s way of coping. But they didn’t know when I would wake up, so…”

He took her hand and brought it up to his mouth, kissing her palm, his eyes blurring as he looked into her tear-streaked face.

“It’s amazing what your brain and your heart can survive. How it can eventually heal and remind you of the good times. You’ll get there, I promise. And then you’ll be able to think of all the memories you shared with your pop, and smile instead of cry.”

Chloé’s chin quivered as another wave of sadness hit her, and Ethan pulled her into his side and kissed the top of her head, holding her as the sorrow once again took hold and shook her to her core.

He understood what it meant to feel so bereft and to experience grief for the first time, and he wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Especially not the people he loved.

The rustling of leaves had him glancing over his shoulder, and he was shocked when he spotted Priest straightening from the large maple tree behind them. He had his hands in his pockets and a stoic expression on his face, but there was a softening to his eyes that Ethan had never seen before.

How long had he been standing there? A minute? Five? The whole conversation?

Ethan was about to get up and invite him over, but Priest shook his head and held up a hand. Then he looked to Chloé cuddled into Ethan’s side, her shoulders shaking and her soft sobs filling the air, and gave a slight nod.

It was clear that Priest had come outside in search of his daughter, concerned for her welfare. But now he was handing over the responsibility of her well-being to Ethan.

It was a level of trust he had never expected from the other man, but his heart warmed at the acceptance in Priest’s eyes, the permission he was granting Ethan to comfort his daughter, as he turned on his heel and walked back to the church.

Ethan stared after him for a long minute, the silent exchange between them meaning more to him than Priest would ever know. Then he turned back to Chloé and wrapped her in his arms, determined to hold her for as long as she needed to get through the rest of the day.

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

I always thought nerves showed you cared.

Nope, nerves just make me want to be sick.

~ Chloé

FALL

“I FEEL LIKE I’m going to throw up.” Chloé stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror that stood in the corner of the bedroom, her menu sheets in hand.

She’d been obsessing over them all week. Tweaking, memorizing, analyzing every single ingredient on the page, hoping against all hope she hadn’t forgotten anything important when it came to the flavor profile of each meal she would present tonight.

The most important night of her life.

Not that she was trying to be dramatic. But seriously, this night could very well make or break her career, and that thought had another wave of nausea rolling in her stomach.

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