*Two Months Later*
ELLIE
I was nervous. It was the first time in a long while that I had agreed to go out for dinner with my friends, fully aware that Ethan would be there. I hadn’t seen him in nearly two months.
In the first week after I left the hospital, he had insisted on staying around to take care of me, but I didn’t let him. I knew that putting some distance between us was the best thing for both of us.
Still, he found ways to be present, even from afar. Every day, he sent me flowers with cards that alternated between wishing me well, saying he missed me, and asking for forgiveness.
Then came the updates about therapy. I still remember his first message and how it made me laugh when he described feeling like he was in a confessional.
Since then, he had made it a habit to message me after his sessions. I think he felt the need to share how it was affecting him and how he was feeling.
He seemed to be doing well, especially for someone who had always avoided therapy. He appeared more open, but I couldn’t be sure or know any real details because we had only been talking through texts. Then, two weeks ago, those texts simply stopped.
I think that was the real reason I was so nervous tonight. He had stopped messaging me—about therapy or anything else—and I was scared of what that might mean.
I was afraid he had given up and decided he didn’t want me anymore. If that were true, it would be my fault for pushing him away. But it would also mean that nothing between us had been real.
I still wasn’t sure if coming tonight was a good idea. The fear and uncertainty weighed heavily on my chest. Not to mention how much I missed him.
“Are you okay?” Anna asked. She was sitting to my left at the table, while Zoe and Zara seemed absorbed in their own conversation.
We were waiting for the guys at the restaurant.
“Yes,” I said, trying to mask my nervousness.
“It’s going to be fine,” she said with a reassuring smile.
I glanced at her slightly rounded belly beneath her dress. At that moment, the restaurant door opened, and the four men walked in.
Jack was leading the way, with Bennett right behind him, both dressed in dark suits with unparalleled elegance. Ethan and Will followed, laughing casually as they walked side by side.
Neither of them wore jackets, just white dress shirts. Will had his black tie loosened, while Ethan had only the top button undone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
He looked happy, relaxed, healthy, and more handsome than ever. Meanwhile, I was a bundle of nerves.
Oh, God. Maybe my suspicions were right. Perhaps he didn’t miss me or had decided to just move on without me.
When his attention finally shifted to our table and his eyes met mine, I saw the surprise in them. He hadn’t known I would be here.
Was he bothered by it, or did he simply not care anymore? I would give anything to know what he was thinking.
I swallowed hard, straightening my posture as the four men stopped around the table. Ethan was still staring at me, standing at the far end, while the other three greeted their wives.
His hair was that sexy kind of messy it got after a long day at work, but his face didn’t look tired. On the contrary, he looked vibrant, and it seemed he had shaved earlier in the day.
His brown eyes had that seductive gleam, as if they could see straight into my soul. I quickly looked away, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable.
*Come on, Ellie. It’s not like you two have never been naked in front of each other.* Damn it. This is a terrible time to think about him naked.
I took a deep breath, trying to banish the image from my mind. But it was too late. Something stirred inside me, a reminder of how much I missed him.
The conversation around the table flowed through the night, shifting between work, kids, and holiday plans. It was only then that I realized Christmas was just two days away.
I had been so preoccupied with trying to figure out why Ethan had gone silent that I hadn’t planned anything.
I guess I’d go to Santa Barbara to spend the holiday with my parents, like I always did. It didn’t require much planning—just packing a bag and catching a flight.
I could still feel his gaze on me throughout the evening. That was strange, considering he hadn’t even greeted me when he arrived.
He hadn’t even said “hi,” which didn’t seem like a good sign. And though I didn’t know exactly what it meant, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed—and a little hurt.
I had told him I would wait until he was ready, but there was no guarantee he would choose to come back. Maybe I had put too much hope in that, or maybe he still wasn’t ready.
I didn’t know what to think, but I figured it was time to consider the possibility that there might not be a future for us together, no matter how much that hurt.
“Excuse me,” I said, rising from the table. I couldn’t sit there any longer, pretending he wasn’t right in front of me.
Looking at him only made me feel more miserable. I headed to the bar, intending to order something strong enough to help me forget that Ethan was sitting at that table.
“A very strong Manhattan, please,” I said when the bartender approached.
He nodded and moved away as I wished I could escape my own mind.
A few minutes later, and after only a few sips of my whiskey-loaded Manhattan, I was already wondering why he couldn’t just be honest and tell me what the hell he was thinking.
I set the glass down on the counter, beginning to consider confronting him. At that moment, I noticed a man sliding onto the stool to my right.
*Seriously?* I hadn’t been sitting here for five minutes. I turned my face to the other side, closing my eyes.
*Please don’t talk to me. Please don’t talk to me.*
“What are you drinking?” the guy asked, making me shudder in frustration.
I should just ignore him; maybe he’d go away—but the voice that came next made me open my eyes and turn my head.
“That was a nice try, and I’ll admit you’ve got good taste, but she’s not available, man,” Ethan said, making my heart race.
He was standing beside the guy, leaning casually against the bar with his arms on the counter, looking straight ahead as if he wasn’t talking to anyone in particular.
“And who are you?” the stranger asked.
Ethan turned his head toward me, locking eyes with mine.
“The boyfriend,” he said, flashing an arrogant smile.