Chapter 17
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Ethan arrived minutes later, the bell over the door jangling violently as he pushed it open. His face hardened when he saw Kate standing at the counter. He tried to pull her away, his fingers closing around her upper arm.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed, low enough that only Kate and I
could hear.
She twisted free, tears streaming down her face, mascara creating dark rivers on
her cheeks. She clung to the edge of the counter like it was a life raft.
“You said you loved me!” she cried, loud enough that every customer turned to watch the drama unfolding. “How could you just change your mind like that?” Her finger trembled as she pointed at me accusingly, her red–painted nail like a
weapon.
“She killed your dad! Because of her, you couldn’t become a cop! You told me a
hundred times how much you hated her!”
The few remaining customers were now openly staring, some even taking out their phones. Donna, my manager, moved toward us with a concerned expression. “You told me you married her out of obligation,” Kate continued, her voice breaking. “Now you’re divorced, so why are you following her across the country?
What about me? What about us?”
As Kate’s accusations piled up, each one landing like a slap, Ethan’s expression darkened further, jaw clenching, a vein pulsing in his temple.
I, however, grew increasingly calm. I’d heard these words countless times before- from Ethan himself, from whispers at parties, from my own tortured thoughts at 3.
- AM.
Initially, they had caused sleepless nights and endless tears, the guilt like a stone in my stomach.
But now, they barely registered. I simply turned and walked toward the back room, unwilling to be part of this spectacle any longer.
From a distance, I heard Ethan’s voice rise, addressing Kate with a coldness I recognized all too well.
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12:50PM Mon 10 Mar
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17
“Kate, of all the shit I’ve said to you, those are the only parts you remember?” I paused at the doorway, unable to stop myself from looking back. The color had drained from Kate’s face, leaving her pale beneath her tan.
Ethan continued, his voice carrying clearly across the now–silent coffee shop: “I told you I don’t hate her anymore, but you don’t remember that? I told you I couldn’t sleep for days after she left, but you forgot that too? I told you I think I’ve been in love with her all along, but used anger to hide it because I couldn’t handle feeling guilty about wanting the girl whose life cost my father’s.”
He looked straight at Kate, his gaze unflinching. “Pretty convenient that you only. remember the parts that make you the victim here.”
I couldn’t listen anymore. I slipped into the back room, leaning against the wall, my heart hammering in my chest. Love? He’d used that word? After five years of marriage where he couldn’t bear to touch me, where he’d flinched when I reached for him, where he’d treated me like his personal emotional punching bag? After asking Donna for a few days off, I slipped out the back exit, avoiding the drama still unfolding in the café. I drove straight to the beach, windows down, radio blasting to drown out my thoughts.
The wind through my open car window seemed to blow his words away like debris. Love. What a joke.
At the shoreline, I kicked off my shoes and walked along the water’s edge, letting the cold waves wash over my feet, my calves, sometimes reaching my knees when a particularly strong surge rolled in.
I pulled out my phone and called Patricia.
“Please take your son back to New York,” I said without preamble. “I don’t want to
see him.”
She remained silent for a long time before responding, her voice thick with
emotion.
“I don’t understand what’s happening anymore,” she finally said,
I took a deep breath, watching the endless rhythm of the waves. “I’ve given him enough of my life already. There’s nothing left to give.”
