One man built a life with me. The other? He’s been in my bones since I was fifteen. It’s a different love. But it’s still love. And what just happened wasn’t just nostalgia or grief, let alone closure. It cracked something wide open. And now I can’t pretend I don’t feel it. I shut the water off and get out quickly. If I stay in this shower, thinking about all of this, I might kill myself.
I get dressed, do my makeup, and head out. There’s already a message from David saying yes to lunch, with a pin to a restaurant. Oh fuck, I’m on Ethan’s truck. Great, now I need to park far enough away so he doesn’t see me. I hate this—the lying, the secrecy, ugh.
David’s already at the restaurant when I arrive, suited up, smiling like always. He stands when I walk in and pulls me into a hug. It’s strong. Familiar. Safe. Then he kisses me. It’s good. But it doesn’t land the same way anymore. And I hate myself for even thinking that. We talk about everything: work, the kids, my mom, and what's going on at home. It’s easy, it feels normal, and it’s comfortable.
When he says ‘I love you’ as we’re leaving, I say it back without hesitation. Because I do love him, but it feels... different.
After lunch, I’ve got a couple of hours before I need to pick up Ethan, so I’ll go pick up some coffees to go and swing by the office. It’s the first time I’ve been here in about two weeks, and walking in feels like getting a piece of myself back. This is great. This is just what I needed.
Monica, my assistant, lights up as soon as she sees me. “Well, well, look who finally remembered we exist,” I smirk. “I brought coffee.” She smiles, “Is that a bribe?”
“You know it is.” We laugh it out, and she follows me to my office. “How’s country life treating you?” I drop my bag and sigh. “More complicated than I planned for.” She narrows her eyes. “That sounds juicy. Do we need to add vodka to our coffees?” I missed this, having her close. She is more than my assistant, and while I try to keep some boundaries, she’s been a great friend over the years.
“Oh, hell no, let’s stick to just coffee,” She launches into a full-blown saga about her week—dumping a guy, going on a date with a girl, and lining up a third person for tomorrow. I stare at her. “You go through people faster than I go through dry shampoo.”
“And yet, you love me.” She grins. “Unfortunately.” It’s light. Easy. And for the first time in days, I don’t feel like I’m suffocating.
I catch up on emails since I’ve been avoiding my phone over the last few days. I look over some reports I need to send at the end of the week and pretend to care about a pitch meeting I’ve already mentally canceled. I love my job; having my own company has been the highlight of my life, really. I never dreamt of being a mother or a wife; that just happened. But this —havingsomething mine, something I built from the ground up —this has been my dream.
I finish up in the office and leave everything in order so everyone can survive at least one more week. I go downstairs to the coffee shop, and I grab two more coffees before I head out.
When I pull up to the site, Ethan’s finishing up, tossing instructions to his crew like he’s been doing this forever. He looks so confident, so in control. I love seeing this side of him. And I love this side of me with him. He spots me, smiles, and jogs over. That smile still wrecks me. I catch myself watching him longer than I should, thinking I could get used to this.
The thought hits hard. Too hard. I laugh under my breath and shake it off. He slides into the passenger seat, “What’s so funny?” he asks, tossing his bag in the back.
“Nothing.” I hand him his coffee. He raises an eyebrow but lets it go. “Ready to go back?” Absolutely no. I know he didn’t mean to go back, but to leave whatever we had behind. But as I became really good at lying, I said, “Yeah,” and put the car in drive. “Let’s go.” As we pull onto the highway, I glance over at him. And I already know that getting out of this clean isn’t going to happen.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ETHAN
The driveback to Tacoon is smooth, maybe it’s because we left early, beat the traffic, and the roads are clear after the mess of last night. Finally, the silence between us isn’t awkward. We finally said what we needed to, and I think we had enough of that.
We stopped for food at the three-hour mark, and switched so I could finish the drive. Everything has been going great. We just slipped into this old rhythm, laughing at dumb stuff, swapping stories like we’re just… us again. It feels good. Too good. Which, of course, is precisely when my phone rings.
Hannah
I shoot a glance at Olivia. She’s pretending to look out the window, but I know she’s paying attention. “Hey,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. “Hey,” Hannah replies, too calm. “Where are you?”
“Driving back. Should be home in about two hours or so.” We talk about the girls —the usual stuff: bedtimes, snacks, work —and then her tone shifts.
“Were you with Olivia the other night?” Olivia doesn’t move, but I feel her freeze. I grip the wheel tighter. “Yeah. She was there. Everybody was. We catch up,” If you can call it that. There’s a pause. Long enough to be loud. “Okay, I can sense you don’t want to talk about this right now,” she finally says. “We’ll talk when you get back.”
Of course, I don’t want to talk about this right now. I have her next to me, and I don’t want to say anything that will hurt either one of them. “Will do, love you,” I say. It feels automatic, like a habit. She waits just long enough to make it hurt. “Love you too.” When I hang up, Olivia doesn’t say anything. Not for a beat. Then, “What was that?”
“What was what?” Me talking about her to my wife? Ah yeah, that. “Her asking about me, and you telling her you were with me.” She looks at me, demanding an explanation. I sigh. “I told Hannah a long time ago I still loved you. She knew I’d see you while I was here.”
“She knew?”
“Yeah. I never lied to her about that, about you. She doesn’t know about... this,” I gesture between us, “but she always knew about you.” Olivia exhales, shaking her head. “I don’t even know what to do with that information.”
“I know this is complicated, and maybe unusual. Notmany people will understand, and I don’t feel like explaining it. I love her, and I love you. I love two women at the same time, and they both know it. Yes, it’s fucked up, but it’s the truth.” The thing about feeling this way is that I don’t care about people understanding it. I was clear with Hannah a long time ago. She knows Olivia was the one. She was and always will be the love of my life, but the universe had other plans for us. I chose Hannah, I decided to have a life with her, and yes, maybe because I didn’t have Olivia, but that doesn’t mean I love Hannah any less.
“I get it,” she says without hesitation. And I’m just blown away by how easily she understands me. She doesn’t judge me or ask questions because she doesn’t have to. I’ve always been a tough guy; I don’t let a lot of people get close. Olivia and Hannah are the only two women I’ve ever really loved.
“I don’t want to end this; whatever this is between us. I know we shouldn’t, but I can’t, I won’t do it.” She doesn’t say anything else; she stares out the window for a while. “You mean a lot to me, and I already lost you sixteen years ago. I can’t let that happen, not again.” I can see her eyes get glassy, but she doesn’t say anything.
We don’t talk anymore.
