He closes his eyes, lowers his head like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. “Don’t you get it? I’m going to end up destroying you, Chloe. ”
I gesture to myself, to the tearstains and the mess and the hands that still won’t stop shaking. “You pretty much already have. ”
“Don’t say that. ” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “Don’t even think it. ”
I watch him for long seconds, trying to figure out what to do. Trying to find the hate or the rage, something that would make it easier to ignore Ethan and walk right out the door. But I’m still weak from his lovemaking and his tears and his need, so nothing comes, nothing but the mangled compassion that reinforces the knowledge that I still love him. That I’ll always love him.
“You need the peas. ”
He stares at me without comprehension. “Excuse me?”
“Your face is swelling up more every minute. You need to put the peas on your eye and your cheek. ”
“Do you think I give a damn about my face right now?”
“I don’t know what you give a damn about, Ethan. That’s the problem. ” I stand up and start toward the kitchen.
This time, he follows me—after picking up the broken belly chain from where it fell on the foyer floor.
A couple of minutes later, he’s settled at the kitchen table holding the bag of peas to his face. I’m across the room, arms wrapped around myself. After everything that’s happened, I don’t trust myself to get too close to him, and I don’t trust him at all.
“It’s been a bad couple of days,” he finally says. “I found out some stuff about my family that—” He breaks off, shakes his head.
“Your dad?”
“No. My mom and brother. ”
“You have a brother? I didn’t know that. ” The news reports never mention him, or Ethan’s mom. She and his father divorced long before he became a national hero, so the only people in the public eye when he died were Ethan and his grandparents. It seems strange that no one’s picked up on this other side of his family, but then again, they’ve never been important to the story of his life, so why should the media care?
“He’s my half brother. My mom remarried. ”
“What does that have to do with you?” With us?
“My mom’s pretty much a crazy person, always has been. Oh, she puts on a good show, but she is definitely a little nuts. Anyway, after she left my father, she never wanted much to do with me. She had a new husband, a new son, a new life. There was no room in it for me.
“And that was fine. I had my grandparents and my dad. I didn’t need her. But there was my brother, you know. I worried about him. Her husband seemed nice enough, but…who knew what went on behind closed doors?
“So from the time I’ve been old enough, I’ve kind of made a point of checking in on him. Make sure he’s doing okay. ”
“Is he?” Despite myself, I’m fascinated by this glimpse into Ethan’s mind. Fascinated and worried, because if the way tonight has gone is any indication, this story isn’t going to have a happy ending.
“Yeah, he’s doing good. Better than he should be, probably,” he mutters darkly.
“I don’t know what that means. ”
“When he was younger, he got into some trouble. Stupid stuff, mostly. I helped him get out of it. Figured with a mom like his, it was only logical that he’d have some problems. Except I screwed up. I got him out of too much trouble. Made things too easy for him. ”
I reach for his hand. “You’re his brother. It’s only natural to want to save him from his mistakes. ”
“Don’t say that. I can take that from anyone else, but I can’t take it from you. Not right now. ”
Now I’m totally confused, but I don’t say anything. I just watch him, let him get it all out.
“On Thursday night, I found out that some of the trouble he was in…some of the trouble I was certain wasn’t his fault actually was. And I got him out of it. ”
Thursday night. The night everything changed. The tight ball of hurt inside me loosens just a little. It doesn’t disappear, but I know about making bad decisions. Know about wanting to push people away.
“I fucked up, Chloe. I fucked up bad. Like I always do. ”