I nod once, waiting for her to tell me more. What did Ethan tell them? Do they know we were together? It feels like I landed in a different dimension.
“Well, at least one of us was aware of it. He’s been lying to himself and to us.” She looks at my duffle bag and then at me. “This is not Ethan’s show. Tell me about yourself. From what we talked about, you make it sound like you were living in an enchanted place.”
“I’m sure I never said that, but I’ll take you to Luna Harbor. You’ll love it. Now for the center, well, that too. They have retreats just for people to rest and take a break from their regular life.”
She claps excitedly. “We should go.”
“Why don’t you let me get used to my new living situation, and then we can plan on going on trips?” I look at her hand and make an entire production about looking at her engagement ring. “Look at you. Where’s Mr. Fiancé?”
She gives me a pouty face. “In Colorado. He’s coming back tonight, though.”
“Are you happy with him?”
She smiles. “Elated. It’s as if the storm is over. He helped me clear the clutter, and now we’re setting the foundation that’ll be the rest of our lives.”
“I’m so happy for you.”
She cups my cheek with one hand. “How about you?”
“Me?”
She nods. “I feel like you’re missing something or someone. Since Brooke died…I know that messed us up so much.”
It’s a little sad that she still thinks it’s Brooke who broke my heart and the one who I missed for so long. In a way, it’s my story, but it’s also Ethan’s. I can’t just come out for him.
“We’re older, stronger, and wiser,” I say. “Not that I’m expecting to get the band together. I wouldn’t be ready for that.” Or to hang out with Ethan or Rocco. I might need another five years of therapy before I can get along with them the way we used to when we just met.
She gives me a sad smile. “Rocco left the facility without finishing his treatment.”
Tucker mentioned that the last time we were on the phone. He’s concerned for him because Rocco doesn’t have any family. I get that part of Rocco’s life, yet during my time away I understand that family isn’t about blood, but soul deep bonds you create with others. I have a big family. I just need to make amends with all of them.
“We’re not responsible for his recovery,” I remind her. “He needs to want to do it. I’ll be honest, when you guys sent me, I wasn’t sold on that whole clean your act now or regret it later. It wasn’t until I almost died that I came to my senses.”
“Some days, I’m afraid that we’ll get a call. Patrick Rokus died.” She sucks on her lip, staring at her hands.
“I have a confession to make,” I say. “When Brooke died, he ODed. I found him just in time to take him to the hospital. He doesn’t believe that there’s a family behind him, loving him and supporting him. We can’t convince him about that. I hope that he figures this out before it’s too late.”
Hannah hugs me so tight. “I’m so glad to know that you’re here. Never forget that I love you.”
“I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to you,” I apologize. “It’s just hard to think about others when the pain grips me so hard I can barely breathe.”
“I love you. You’re like my big brother. Never forget that,” she says.
I hug her one more time and stand up. “Well, it’s time to go to Ethan’s office.”
“Don’t sound like you’re going into the torture chamber,” she laughs. “That guy has a soft spot for you.”
“See you around, Nana,” I say, instead of telling her why I need to see him.
I don’t care about his soft spots—nor his hard ones either. Well, I care in a way. It’s been so too long since the last time I had sex. Not the point. I’m here for one thing only, and it doesn’t have to do with making amends with him.
Chapter Ten
Zeke
I secure the keys to my new place before heading to Ethan’s office. I could just leave the tower without acknowledging him. It’ll be so much easier to ignore him, but isn’t that what we’ve been doing for years? Our cycle is predictable. We fuck, we fight, we ignore each other. Today is a great day to stop it and start anew. I grudgingly drag my feet from Hannah’s office to Ethan’s.
His lair, as Hannah calls it sometimes, is too pretentious. He has a reception area with two desks, one for each assistant. Only one of them is at her desk. When she sees me, she says, “Mr. Hutchence?”
I nod once.
“Mr. Killion is waiting for you.”
I push the door open, and I’m taken aback.
“We redecorated it,” I comment as I take in the dark wood shelves on both sides. The sleek black leather couches are gone, replaced by dark brown, worn out leather couches. “So, goodbye to the CEO and hello, Grandpa?”
He lifts his gaze and nods.
“Hey,” I greet him, closing the door.
Those intense eyes of his stare at me. His hand holds onto his mouse tightly. My guess is that he’s barely breathing. Me too, buddy.
Finally, after a long awkward silence, he says, “Hi.” His Adam’s apple bobs a couple of times. “I—you look good.”
Fuck, this is more painful than an hour of hypnotherapy trying to uncover my underlying issues.
I rub the back of my neck and say, “I’m here to apologize for sounding so ungrateful when you visited me at the hospital. I was in pain, withdrawal, and angry.” I tap my chest a few times, matching the beat of my heart before I continue, “I’m still angry at you, and at myself.”
“I’m not my favorite person either,” he says. “Honestly, I never realized how my behavior affected you until I started going to a therapist. I made you believe that I didn't care about you, that I didn't love you. What kind of an asshole does that?”
He settles his palms on his desk and focuses on them before he looks back at me. “Who treats his favorite person like that? I’ll tell you who, an idiot. The fact of the matter is that the one I didn’t love was myself.”
I want to hug him—kiss him to make him feel better. Also, because I need him.
This is one of the problems I have with this guy. He’s like a sizzling hot pan. I’m butter. Just being close to him melts my conviction. Exhibit A on why we can’t break the cycle: I’m weak when it comes to Ethan.
Is it perhaps because I know what’s underneath that suit?
And I don’t mean his taut body, but the frightened nerd who has big dreams. I want to ask more about this discovery and why he’s going to therapy. I don’t. I’m here to set boundaries.
“So, listen, I’m going to be a recovering addict and alcoholic for the rest of my life,” I say, staring at the new tattoo I have on my arm. I got it this summer, once I moved to my cabin and was responsible for my shopping, cooking, and cleaning. Some days I would walk to the shops in Silverthorne, and others, I drove to Luna.