Great. And he wants to try and talk about it again.
“Didn’t we agree not to talk about this?” I say pointedly. “It’s over and done with. We did something stupid, and that’s all it was.”
“Right.” Ethan frowns. “But I think I owe you an explanation.”
That’s odd. My brow furrows as I look searchingly at him, trying to guess what’s on his mind. But his expression isn’t as open as I’m used to. Dread curls in my gut.
“Look…we’re friends, and have been for a really long time,” Ethan says. “But this is the second time we’ve slept together, even if those times were really far apart.”
“The first time, you called me Polly,” I point out. It’s cruel to say it, but I need him to stop talking before hope begins to flare. “I’m pretty sure you thought I was her.”
“Did I?” Ethan winces. “I’m sorry. I can’t even remember what was going through my head back then. But this time, I definitely knew it was you, and I knew I wanted you. And that you were the only woman I would trust to be that intimate with.”
My breath catches.
“What are you saying?” I ask; I try to speak evenly, but my voice comes out wobbly.
“You’ve probably noticed, but there hasn’t been anyone for me since Polly,” Ethan says awkwardly.
Oh, yes, I definitely noticed. It’s probably one of the reasons I stayed at Ethan’s side for so long, where my heart could fool me into thinking that I’m the only one allowed so close to him.
“Polly shattered…everything.” Ethan lets out a short, bitter laugh. “Even if I wanted to think about trying again, I don’t think I can. I’m too scared to.”
I don’t know where Ethan is going with this. There’s a roaring in my ears and my heart is pounding. I’m really confused, and I don’t understand exactly what he’s trying to say. Part of me wonders if this is some sort of confession, and I can’t stamp the thought out before irrational hope sets in.
“Yeah, it’s natural,” I say. I bite my lip. “Look, Ethan, it’s just something that happened. You were drunk, I got swept away in the moment…that’s all it was.”
“But that isn’t fair,” Ethan says sharply. “You’re my best friend, Georgia. And maybe…” He hesitates. “I just don’t want to accidentally hurt you because part of you might think it meant something more.”
Time stops. I feel oddly frozen. How ironic that he was worried that I might read more into that night, yet I didn’t until right this moment.
Only to have despair crash down on me instead.
“I didn’t,” I force out through stiff lips. I attempt a smile, but it feels like it comes out all wrong. “With the way you’re so concerned about that, I might think you’re the one reading too much into it.”
“I’m trying to tell you why I can’t see anything more with…well, not just you, but with anyone,” Ethan stresses. “I have Lily to look after, too…and I don’t think I’ll ever love again after what happened with Polly. It was really unfair of me to jump you when I knew that was how I felt.”
For a brief, insane moment, it felt like Ethan was going to give me everything I ever wanted. And then, in the next breath, he took it away. I stare at him. He probably doesn’t even realize what he just did. Stupid, big-hearted Ethan, who’s been stressing that I might want more, and trying to explain why it won’t be possible.
It makes me suddenly angry.
“Right,” I say. I push my chair away and stand. “I completely understand, Ethan.”
Ethan looks up warily, perhaps hearing the tense note in my voice.
“I’m sorry, maybe that came out all wrong,” he says. “I just didn’t know how else to say it…”
“No, it came out perfectly,” I say.
My voice sounds all wrong, like it’s not mine. It’s cold and tightly angry, and I can’t remember ever being this furious. I’ve given Ethan the rights to break my heart over and over again. But this time, I know suddenly, is the last time.
“I’m sorry,” Ethan says, looking anxious, knowing he’s upset me, but not really understanding how.
“Don’t be,” I say. The words slip out without permission. “You can’t help being a fucking coward.”
The accusation hangs in the air between us. Ethan stares at me, shocked. Part of me wants to take back what I just said. But then more words follow it, and I can’t help it as they stream from my mouth, a build-up of tension and repressed feelings finally being let loose.
“You want to say you’re traumatized because Polly broke your heart ten years ago?” I say. “Fine, so be it. But don’t put your issues on me. We slept together. Big deal, it was just sex. It didn’t mean anything. That’s what you want to hear, right? So you can go back to your life of self-imposed abstinence, pretending it’s all for Lily’s sake while you nurse that broken heart and cower away from the rest of the world.”