by Alice Ward
“Becky and Sean separated eight months ago. Their divorce is supposed to be finalized next week. I know you’re hurt, Emily. As hard as it may be to believe, that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do. If I knew you were planning to surprise me tonight—”
I turned to him, my hands on my hips. Rage was winning out over all of my other emotions, and it took every ounce of strength I had not to knee Ben in the balls.
“What?” I spat. “If you’d known I was coming, you would have screwed your MILF somewhere else?”
He sighed and looked down to the worn tile floor. “I… I… I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”
I couldn’t be in the apartment another minute. I slung my purse over my shoulder and pushed past Ben, storming toward the front door.
“You don’t have to say anything. In fact, if I never hear your voice again, I’ll die happy.” I paused long enough to pull his key off my ring, tossed it over my shoulder, and slammed the door behind me.
I dove into my car and peeled out of the parking lot, trying to outrace my heartache. I failed and pulled over at a home goods store. Killing the engine, I let my tears overtake me. I mourned the loss of the future I’d planned so carefully and tried to figure out where everything had gone wrong. How long had Ben been sleeping with Becky? Was she the first, or just the latest in a string of his conquests? I knew I was probably better off not learning the answers.
I cried until my eyes ran dry, then spent another few minutes composing myself. I didn’t know what to do or where to turn. I knew Uncle Walt would be sympathetic, but I wasn’t up for listening to him rail against Ben. I also couldn’t bear the thought of his inevitable “I told you so” expression. I eyed the two bottles of wine in my passenger seat and decided the occasion definitely called for some drinking. I pulled out of the lot and turned toward home. Somehow, I ended up at the diner instead.
CHAPTER THREE
Ethan’s eyes lit up when I pushed through the diner door. His excitement immediately turned to concern and I realized I must have looked like an absolute mess. He jumped off his stool and rushed over to greet me.
“Emily, I wasn’t expecting you. Are you okay?” he asked, draping an arm over my shoulder. He led me to the counter and I sank down on the stool beside him with a nod.
“Yes… no. I don’t know,” I replied, propping my elbows on the cool linoleum.
He signaled the waitress, who appeared with a steaming mug of coffee. “Would you like something to eat, darlin’?” she asked.
I shook my head and wrapped my hands around the warm, comforting mug. “No, thank you.”
She gave me a sympathetic nod and cleared Ethan’s empty plates. He took a sip of his water and turned to me, his eyes searching mine for some sign of what happened.
“You’re obviously upset,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I assume you came to find me because you need a friend?”
I gave him a wordless nod.
“Do you want to talk here? Or would you like to go somewhere more private?”
“Private,” I answered without thinking.
He pulled out his wallet, dropped a twenty on the counter, and rose to his feet, offering me his arm. I took it and a strange, comforting warmth spread through my body. When I’d arrived at the diner, I felt like my life was over. But when Ethan touched me, I knew everything was going to be okay.
We stepped out into the parking lot and Ethan paused.
“My place or yours?” he asked. “Or if you’re not comfortable with either of those, I have a master key to the stadium.”
“Your place is good.” I wasn’t ready to be at my apartment, surrounded by things that reminded me of Ben. And I really didn’t feel like running into anyone at the stadium.
“No offense, but you don’t seem like you’re in any shape to drive. I don’t want you to feel stuck at my place. How about I drive your car now and you can take me back to mine later, when you feel better?”
“That works for me,” I agreed, handing over my keys. He opened my door and I unlocked his as he circled the car. He slid the driver’s seat all the way back before wiggling in behind the steering wheel. He drove in silence for a few minutes before placing a gentle hand on my knee.
“Is it safe to assume you’re no longer taken?” he asked.
“Is it that obvious?” I countered with a sad snort.
“No,” he assured me. “You still look beautiful. Distracted, maybe. But I doubt anyone at the diner noticed. Do you want to tell me what happened?”
I lifted one of the wine bottles I’d moved to the floorboard. “Not until I have a little of this in me.”
“I understand.”
He navigated through Irvington, pulling up to a large iron gate only blocks away from my apartment. He punched a few keys on the code box and the gate swung inward.
“You have a beautiful house,” I observed, staring at the Tudor mansion in front of us.
“Thank you. You’ll have to excuse the décor. I just moved in a few months ago and I’ve been too busy to really put my mark on the place.”
“I promise I won’t judge,” I assured him.
He pulled up to the large, solid wood door and killed the engine. He passed me my keys and took the wine before climbing out of the car. I smiled as he moved the seat back into position for me before shutting the door.
How thoughtful…
I followed him into the house and immediately understood why he’d warned me about the interior. While the outside of the home looked straight out of Medieval England, the inside looked like it had been abandoned sometime in the nineteen seventies. Velvet wallpaper in various shades of gold and green adorned the walls, continuing from the foyer into the living room. Ethan’s modern leather furniture looked out of place in the space, but the house had tons of potential.
“I have a crew coming next week to do something about these walls,” he explained, wrinkling his nose at them. He led me to the large French doors on the far side of the room, which opened to an expansive backyard. The covered veranda ran the length of the Olympic-sized swimming pool in front of it.
“This is beautiful. How much space do you have?”
“About an acre, total,” he replied, setting the wine down on a teak patio table. He stepped behind the outdoor bar and returned with two glasses and a corkscrew. He opened the first bottle, filled the glasses, and settled into the chair beside me. I finished my wine in one long gulp and waited patiently while he poured my second round.
“That bad, huh?” he asked.
I nodded and stared out at the gleaming pool. “I went to Ben’s apartment. We haven’t had much time together since school started and I thought it would be nice to surprise him with his favorite dinner. Instead, the surprise was on me.”
I took another sip of my wine while Ethan let out a low whistle.
“You caught him in the act?”
I nodded. “Yep. I’ve been beating myself up for weeks for not telling him about our friendship. And all the while, he’s been screwing a cougar divorcee.”
Ethan was quiet for a moment and then cleared his throat. “You seem to be handling it okay. I mean you’re obviously upset. But you don’t seem… broken.”
“I don’t break,” I replied, my voice flat.
“Is that so?” he pressed.
“I bawled my eyes out for about half an hour after. I’m pissed. I’m devastated, actually. I honestly thought Ben and I were forever. I thought he was the predictable, stable man I’d always dreamed of finding. Obviously, I was wrong.”
Ethan studied me for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was low.
“I understand why you crave stability. Everyone does. But why in the world would a fascinating, spirited woman such as yourself seek out predictability?”
I let out an amused huff and reached for my wine. “I’m not sure I’d use those words to describe me.”
Ethan took my hand and met my eyes, his gaze deep and serious.
I stared back at him, utterly speechless. I didn’t find Ethan’s words strange at all. I knew exactly what he was talking about because I felt the same way when I looked at him. There was an exciting, familiar quality to the way he looked at me and with each moment that passed, I felt drawn further and further in.
Coming here was a mistake. I’m too emotional to think clearly. This is all way too much, way too soon.
Pulse racing, I gripped the arms of my chair and started to rise. Ethan slid his chair a few feet away from me and held up his hands.
“I’m sorry. Like I said, I know it sounds strange. And I know this isn’t the time to talk about my feelings. Please don’t leave, Emily. You came to the diner tonight because you needed a friend. Let me be that for you.”
I relaxed back into my chair and reached for my wine. “I shouldn’t be driving, anyway.”
“Exactly,” he agreed. “Just try to relax. We can talk about whatever you’d like. And if you want to kill both of these bottles, you’re more than welcome to crash in one of the spare rooms.”
Damn it, he’s right. If I don’t stop drinking now, I’ll never be able to get myself home. Fuck it. My relationship just imploded. I deserve some alcohol.
“I have assembly duty at seven-thirty in the morning. If I crash here, you’ll have to get up super early for me to take you back to your car,” I warned.
“I’m fine with that,” he told me with a grin. He topped off my glass and I stared down silently at the wine. It had just dawned on me that I had a little over twelve hours before I had to face Ben again. I wasn’t looking forward to the reunion.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Ethan pressed, his voice lower, more sympathetic.
I crinkled my nose, frowned, and met his eyes. “I was thinking about getting a substitute for tomorrow,” I confessed.
“You’re not ready to see him?”
I shook my head. “Part of me feels like a coward. Sub days are hard on everyone and it’s completely unprofessional to let my personal life affect my students. But at the same time, when I think of seeing Ben…”
“Emily, if you think you’ll break down when you see Ben, it’s in everyone’s best interest for you to stay home,” he insisted.
Ethan held my gaze, his patient face wrinkled with concern.
I gave him a guilty, devilish grin and admitted the real reason I didn’t want to see Ben. “I’m not worried about breaking down in tears. I’m afraid I’ll go into a blind rage and beat the shit out of him in front of everyone.”
Ethan’s face relaxed and he let out an amused laugh. “Well, that settles it. You’re definitely taking a sick day tomorrow. Why don’t you call and make the arrangements while I go scare up something from the kitchen? If you’re going to keep drinking, I insist that you eat something.”
“Deal,” I agreed, completely unfazed by the fact that he was basically bossing me around. It felt good to be taken care of for once. I fetched my phone from my purse, propped my feet up on the opposite chair, and hit Linda’s speed dial.
“Hey, Em. What’s up?”
“I’ve had a terrible night, Linda,” I confessed. “When you left my room this afternoon, I started to feel guilty about hiding Ethan from Ben. I decided to surprise him with dinner at his place. He was supposed to be at the club until seven. But when I got to the apartment, he was in bed with Becky Childers.”
“That rat bastard,”’ Linda gasped, then growled. “Say no more. I’ll line up your sub and go over the lesson plans with her in the morning. Just let me know what you want me to tell everyone. I assume you’re not officially calling in heartbroken?”
“No, officially I’m sick. I’m sure the truth will get around soon enough, but I don’t want to be the one who lets this cat out of the bag. I’m going to email Principal Matthews and tell him I’m coming down with the stomach flu. With the number of sick kids we’ve had this week, he won’t think twice about it.”
“Got it. That’ll be my story if anyone asks. Though I have a few other words in mind for Ben. I’m so sorry, Emily. Are you okay? If you need to talk, you’re more than welcome to come hang out with Henry and me.”
“That’s okay. I have someone to talk to,” I said with a hint of mischief in my voice.
“Emily… where are you?” The tone of her voice told me she already had a pretty good idea.
“I’m at Ethan’s.”
“Well, good for you,” she said, surprising me. “Enjoy yourself. I expect a full report as soon as I get home from school tomorrow. Periodic text updates between now and then would be much appreciated,” she teased.
“We’re just talking. I’ve only been single for a few hours,” I reminded her.
“Sure, if you say so.”
“Ha, ha. I need to let you go. I still need to shoot an email to Matthews and Ethan will be back any second with my dinner.”
“Try to enjoy yourself tonight, Em. You deserve it. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Bye.”
I ended the call and typed a short email to the principal. I told him my stomach didn’t feel well, which technically wasn’t a lie, and assured him that Linda was handling all of the arrangements. Ethan stepped outside with an enormous platter of barbecue just as I was returning my phone to my purse.
“Everything settled?” He sat the platter on the table and moved behind the bar to fetch a roll of paper towels.
“Yes. Linda, the other kindergarten teacher, is handling everything for me.”
“Did you tell her what’s really going on?”
I nodded and reached for a sauce-drenched rib. “She would have found out eventually. But she won’t run her mouth to the rest of the school.”
I picked it up by the bone and the meat fell back to the plate. Ethan picked up a dripping handful, tossed it into his mouth, then passed me a paper towel before tearing one off for himself.
“Do you want to keep talking about it?” he continued after chasing his bite with a gulp of wine.
I shook my head. “I’d like to talk about anything but, actually.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that,” he replied with a grin, sending my heart into another happy race. “I’m interested in so much more than your relationship with your ex,” he continued. “I want to know everything there is to know about you. What inspired you to go into teaching?”
I reached for my wine and Ethan shook his head, his eyes darting to the ribs.
“You’ve got to get something in your stomach, Emily. Trust me, you’ll feel much better tomorrow if you eat something.”
There was no point in arguing. I knew he was right. I took a bite of smoky, tangy meat, and then answered Ethan’s question as I stripped three more bones.
“When I started high school, a guidance counselor explained that I’d need extracurricular activities for my college applications. We were never in one place long enough for me to join any teams or clubs. But every school I went to had a shortage of tutors. I’d always done really well in school, and the job was a natural fit.”
I ate another bite of the ribs and wiped my hands on the paper towel.
“These are delicious. This is quite the meal for something you scared up in the kitchen.”
“You lucked out.” He licked sauce from his thumb and my stomach twisted. “I forgot these were in the fridge. So you became a teacher because you enjoyed tutoring so much? Somehow, I feel like there’s more to it than that.”
I swallowed another mouthful and tore off another paper towel to wipe my mouth. “You got me,” I agreed with a sigh. “Growing up with my uncle was exciting and, fo
r the most part, I loved my childhood. But it made me tired, Ethan. Tired of uprooting, tired of being alone. The school gives me a foundation, somewhere I can belong. And I get to contribute to the foundations of a bunch of precious tiny people,” I added with a genuine smile.
“So you’re a homebody? You don’t like to travel?” he pressed, his eyebrows drawing together in concern.
“I don’t like to travel. See, that’s all the more reason we should just be friends,” I teased.
I dropped another bite of barbecue into my mouth and awkwardly swallowed while he studied me. I decided to change the subject.
“So what made you decide to play football? I don’t mean to be indelicate, but do you really even have to work?”
Ethan frowned. “You mean couldn’t I just live off of my stepfather’s money?”
“I know that sounds tacky,” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks heat again. “But yeah, I guess that’s what I mean.”
“Don’t worry. I get that a lot,” he confided. “I could live off of Victor’s money if I wanted to. He certainly has enough of it. But what kind of man would that make me? I’m good at what I do, Emily. I’m good at everything I do. If I didn’t play football, if I didn’t take advantage of my talents, everything I am would be wasted. Does that make any sense?”
I nodded and tried to stifle a yawn. The wine and the emotions of the day were catching up with me and my eyelids grew heavy. Ethan noticed.
“You’re exhausted.” He gathered the discarded paper towels and tossed them into the bar side trash can. My heart thumped when he reached for my hand.
“Come on. I’ll get you some sweats and show you to the guest room.”
Ethan led me through the house, stopping at the room at the end of the west wing. He pushed open the door but stayed in the hallway.
“If you feel like washing up, the guest suite has its own bath. My room is right here,” he added. He took a few steps backward and opened a door on the opposite wall. “My sweats will probably swallow you, but they’ll be more comfortable than your jeans.”
