“Are you mad?”
“I’m not mad. I want you to have everything, Ella. Your clothing line. The world out there.” He waves out an arm. “I want you to achieve great things, but I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.”
I stare back at him, unable to explain myself. I hadn’t considered his reaction to my going. I mean, I thought about it but didn’t consider he’d be upset. We’ve spent so much time together, but I thought he’d welcome the break from babysitting me. After all, he is being paid to be here, and the reminder makes me a little sick to my stomach.
“What happens if they approve of your designs or buy them from you? Do you move to New York?” Ethan glares at me, hands still flat on the counter.
“Not necessarily,” I hesitate although I don’t really know. The original dream includes someone taking on my designs and opening their doors to business with me. New York had been on the horizon, but I hadn’t allowed myself to hope too much until I share my clothing line with people…and share my story as well. It’s been daunting to think about, so I haven’t. I’ve allowed Ethan to distract me from wallowing in the uncertainty of my future.
“But you’d move, wouldn’t you? If given a chance, you’ll leave.” He seems to have written the answers for me before I do.
“I want a change, Ethan.” I sigh. I’ve been in this house for a long time, and today is a good reminder I’ve been here too long. I need to get out, but not here. This small town doesn’t have what I need. Then my eyes leap to Ethan and hesitate. “I’ll never be who I was, and I don’t want to return to that person anyway. In New York, no one sees you. No one notices.” I wave up at my face. “I can move through the crowd because no one looks at each other.”
“And here, everyone might stare,” Ethan mocks.
“It isn’t New York,” I state, holding my head higher.
“It’s an excuse,” Ethan says, still holding his position of leaning on the counter. “Your face has become a crutch to hold you back and keep people out. You don’t want to have anyone look at you because you’ve never looked back at them. You don’t see what’s before you.”
My mouth gapes. How dare he? “For my entire life, people have gawked at me, and I see them just fine.”
He snorts. “Did they really look at you? Did they see you, Ella Vincentia, or did they worship some façade named Isabella Vee?” He exhales as he speaks, and my heart hammers in my chest. “And what about you? Do you really see what’s before you?”
“I see perfectly clearly,” I retort, glaring at him, not liking his implication that I haven’t had my eyes opened to the business I was previously in. The shallowness of people’s interest and my connection with others. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ethan stares back at me for a second, shifting his body to lean his hip against the island, then crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re right. I don’t know anything. I’m out of my element here.”
“So am I. Can you really judge me? Are your eyes open to what’s before you? You have a lovely family, but you aren’t speaking to them. Everything you need is right here. That barn. Your restaurant. It’s all within reach.”
When he gets the money from being here with me. The sudden reminder is a slap of reality. Ethan isn’t with me because he wanted to be here. He’s here for the financial gain.
“What did you think would happen, Ethan?” I ask, confused. Only hours ago, we were curled into each other, and now, he’s upset I’m going on a trip to New York. Our time was limited anyway. What then? “Jacob will be home in a few weeks.”
“So we’re on a time clock?” The question startles me. What does he mean? My brother’s return will change everything. Our cocoon will be broken, and Ethan’s contract complete.
He’ll be paid for services rendered—taking care of me.
I feel sick.
Ethan presses off the counter and takes something out of his pocket. After setting the small box on the counter, he walks up to me and presses a kiss to my temple.
“Nothing,” he says. “I thought nothing would happen.”
I don’t look up as he brushes past me for his room. My eyes focus on the box before me and the white bakery bag behind it. Plucking the bow off the top and removing the lid, I find a bracelet with a simple charm inside. It’s the state of Michigan, which is notorious for looking like a mitten, but it’s hanging at an angle that makes it look like a heart. A note inside the top of the box reads:
May you always remember where a heart met yours in your most beautiful moment.
+ + +
It’s impossible to believe two people could co-exist in the same house without ever crossing paths, yet Ethan and I manage to miss one another for days. On Monday, I can’t take it any longer, and I intend to corner Ethan in the kitchen to talk when I catch him in his jacket, twirling keys around his finger.
“Are you going out?” I ask, my voice accusatory. Pam told me how she saw Ethan the other morning at the bakery and accidentally told him about my plans for New York. She thought he knew I’d be leaving. She also let it slip he was there talking to another woman.
“He was in the bakery chatting with Crystal Bloomquist. She’s an old acquaintance, and we all wish he’d lose her number.” A suggestion was present, or maybe I’m imagining things. Ethan’s flirtatious and full of innuendo, but it hadn’t occurred to me that he might have other women in his life. He never mentioned another woman, and he’s spent so much time at the house, I can’t imagine when he’d be with someone else.
I don’t want him with someone else.
“Are you seeing someone?” I can’t seem to help the accusation in my voice. Ethan’s head snaps up, finally looking at me a second before turning away from me.
“I’m going to see my mum. She had a rough day yesterday.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Pam said . . .” I decide to skip over what Pam mentioned. “I’d like to see your mom again someday.”
“What did Pam say?” His voice hardens.
“She mentioned you were talking to someone at the bakery. It sounded like you met someone there.” Did I have a right to question him? Was I overreacting? It was probably some innocent conversation, but then why would Pam mention it.
“Jesus,” Ethan hisses, swiping his hands into his hair like he does. “I was there to buy you those pumpkin donuts you like. It wasn’t anything other than a coincidence.”
I smile softly, acknowledging that I had misunderstood. Would I always be like this? Always wonder if there is someone else he’d rather see, date, or have sex with?
Ethan’s lips twist while his eyes avoid me. “You can come with me if you’d like.”
“Are you sure?” I hesitate, the invitation not very welcoming.
“Sure.” He exhales. “She’d like to see you.” He lifts his head but doesn’t look directly at me. He’s no longer looking at me like he did the night of my birthday, the night when, for just a moment, I thought I might mean everything to him like he’s become to mean to me. My heart sinks to the pit of my belly. How did it all go wrong so quickly?