“The worst part was that you did it over the phone,” I say.

He nods and lifts our clasped hands, brushing his lips over my knuckle. I shiver at the affection, at the shadow of memories. “I never could’ve followed through in person. I wouldn’t have been able to see the hurt I heard in your voice and stay away from you. That was really selfish of me. I was selfish about you. I always have been.”

“That doesn’t explain eight years of nothing.”

“I don’t think there’s a simple explanation that doesn’t make me look like an asshole.”

“Well, give it a try, and really, I don’t think you could elevate your asshole status by much, all considering.”

He laughs at this sliver of levity. “I tried after that to reach out. I called you, remember?”

“Yes.” Of course I did. He’d called a couple of times late at night, when I was on the verge of sleep—the conversations had been brief, painful. In the mornings I’d wondered if they had been a bad dream.

“I didn’t know how to be friends.”

“It felt like you were calling out of obligation and you couldn’t wait to get off the phone with me.”

“That’s because I couldn’t.”

When I try to yank my hand away, he holds it tighter. “I didn’t want you to be fine without me. I didn’t want to hear that you were moving on. I didn’t want you to be okay, because I wasn’t. I was a mess, and every time I called I made it worse for myself. I was playing like shit. It felt like I’d done it all for nothing, but as much as I didn’t want to stay away from you, I knew it was the right thing to do. It was painful, the not having any ties to you. I missed knowing what was going on in your life, if you found a better part-time job, one you actually liked, if you bought a car, if you’d moved into an apartment like you wanted to, like we’d planned to, or if all of that had changed.”

“If it was so hard, why stay out of my life altogether?”

He sighs. “For me it was all or nothing with you. I knew if I saw you, I’d want to get back together. Then I found out you were with Avery—I think it was a few months before you got engaged.”

“Wouldn’t that have been a safe time to make contact? When I was already with someone?”

Ethan’s laugh is almost bitter. “My dad told me not to.”

I’m shocked by this. Martin knew how hard losing Ethan had been for me. He’d been a huge source of support the entire time. “Why would he do that?”

“Because he knew I would fuck it up for you.”

“How?”

“Your happiness made me miserable, which is a horrible thing to say. I should’ve been glad that you’d found someone, but I wasn’t. Not even a little bit. That it was Avery didn’t help. He was always such a douche in high school, always talking about how awesome his car was and how awesome he was. He just seemed so shallow. And you had such light and so many dreams. You were going to get a full scholarship and go into medicine and be amazing. I just couldn’t understand how someone like him could make you happy. Seeing you together, knowing I’d let you go … I couldn’t be your friend.”

I think about how I would’ve felt had it been me in his shoes. Would I have been able to handle seeing him happy with someone else? I don’t know.

“I wanted you to live your life, go to school like you planned to, and become a doctor, and that would’ve been impossible if we’d stayed together. I didn’t want you to have to give up your dream so I could have mine.”

“Just so we’re clear, I love my job, and I made a choice not to be a doctor because I realized nursing was a better fit for me. But you never even asked me what I wanted. Why didn’t that matter?” This time Ethan lets me have my hand when I pull away.

He rubs the back of his neck. “I would’ve been all you had in LA. At least with you here I knew you had my family. I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“Who were you protecting, me or you?”

“Both of us? I convinced myself that as long as you were managing, it was better that I stay out of your life. I thought it was better for me to be the asshole who wasn’t in your life than one who would keep fucking things up.”

chapter eight

SETUP

Lilah

Perception is such a strange, illusive concept. Especially when perception is steeped in youth, inexperience, and heartache. So learning the reasons behind Ethan’s actions all those years ago creates a new ache in my chest.

In his own screwed-up way, he’d always been protecting me, even if it caused us both unnecessary pain.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you the way I did. I’m even more sorry that you felt abandoned and that I couldn’t manage my own emotions enough to stay in your life, even if it wasn’t the way I wanted.”

The soft brush of his thumbs under my eyes startles me. My tears are silent grief for lost years. When he starts to pull away, I lean my cheek into one of his palms and just allow myself to feel. I’ve missed him. Our connection has always been unique. Consuming in a way that sometimes felt overwhelming. His touch could calm and excite simultaneously. Like being given a sedative and a shot of caffeine at the same time.