Ethan isn’t saying anything. He’s just sitting there, stunned at the torrent of cruel words that are leaving me. Tears sting at my eyes. Everything, from the job offer, to Polly’s arrival, to waiting and waiting and waiting at Ethan’s side for the day he might remember I’m there, only for him to suddenly tell me, very clearly, that it’ll never happen because of fucking Polly… No, I can’t handle this.
I need to get out of here.
Ethan doesn’t try and stop me as I flee, the tears already flowing down my face.
Chapter Fifteen
Ethan
There’s a knock on the door, and I stumble to answer it, feeling tired and drained. I’m not happy to see Polly on the other side, and I just give her an unimpressed stare as she tries for a hopeful smile.
“I was hoping we could spend some more time together today?” She says. “Perhaps head to the mall?”
I sigh and grudgingly step inside. I don’t really want her in my home, but she’s driven an hour and a half to get here. I can’t just send her away.
Well, I could, a little voice that sounds a little like Georgia points out. But it would be incredibly cruel, and I just don’t want to deal with the fallout.
“You should have messaged first,” I say as Polly steps inside. “I would have told you that today isn’t a good day.”
“Are you sure?” Polly asks with a frown. “It’s Sunday, isn’t it? Do you and Lily have plans?”
“Drinking coffee – juice for Lily – and watching movies all day,” I say bluntly as Polly follows me into the kitchen.
She wrinkles her nose.
“Do you do that every Sunday?” she demands.
“No, on other Sundays we go to cult meetings and make sacrifices with goats,” I say, deadpan; I’m not in the mood for an inquisition.
She glares at me, unimpressed.
“I asked a serious question,” she says stiffly.
“And I gave you a stupid answer; are we done stating the obvious?” I ask, stalking to the coffee machine and flicking it on, highly irritated.
Needling Polly is probably not a good idea. But I’m in a bad mood. I have been since Georgia left yesterday, and for good reason. I just can’t get what she said to me yesterday out of my head. Her words spin around and around my head. Sometimes they make me feel angry. Others, just very sad or guilty.
“You can’t help being a fucking coward.”
“What the hell has gotten into you today?” Polly demands. “Did you sleep badly?”
“You want to say you’re traumatized because Polly broke your heart ten years ago?”
“Maybe I’m in a bad mood because my ex-wife keeps showing up, unannounced, at my door and demanding to be part of my life after she’s the one that ran away,” I snap.
Polly’s eyes narrow.
“I explained all that,” she hisses.
“Whatever,” I mutter.
“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.”
I’m ready to just go back to bed and pretend that this day never happened.
“Look…sorry,” I say reluctantly. “I didn’t sleep very well last night, and it’s been a bad morning. Lily isn’t up yet, but you came all this way, so you might as well wait until she’s awake.”
“Thanks,” Polly says, her shoulders tense. She looks away and scowls. “For what it’s worth, I know you’re angry, but you’re still saying what’s really on your mind. I know that I can’t really blame you for still being upset.”