CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
OLIVIA
We’re supposedto go to the bar opening today. Wild, really, how time flies when your life is falling apart and you’re trying to drown the chaos under spreadsheets and paint samples. It’s been a blur of menus, marketing, invoices, late nights. If I didn’t know better, I’d say overworking is my love language.
I should be mad that Ethan left the way he did, no explanation, just gone, but I can’t even find the energy for anger right now. Because yesterday changed things. Again. And not in the good, productive, “we’re-two-professionals-getting-stuff-done” kind of way.
We’ve spent the last week pretending to be fine. Friends. Business partners. Teammates. Whatever label feels the safest that day. We built this bar in record time, and honestly, it looks incredible. It’s the one thing in my life that doesn’t feel like a disaster right now. So why does it still feel like standing next to him is lighting a match in a room full of gasoline?
We shouldn’t put everything at risk just because we enjoy being naked around each other, which is a ridiculous sentence, but an accurate one. The problem is, I can’t decide if being near him feels like comfort or self-destruction. Maybe it’s both.
I’m divorced now. Officially. Done. Paperwork signed, ring in a drawer, lawyer paid. He isn’t. Not even close. And I know what that means. It means the line has to go back up, sharp, bold, permanent.
No blurred edges, no excuses.
We need to stop pretending we can hold the fire without getting burned.
The bar is buzzingwhen I walk in, the industrial lights in the ceiling look so good, and the polished wood counter adds a nice touch. And those soft amber bulbs are to die for. We did well.
Everyone has gone to mingle, even though we’ve been here for barely five minutes. I stay behind and wait for Ethan, who just walked through the doors.
“You okay, you look like a sad puppy?” He shrugs.
He rolls his eyes at me. “Hannah and I are taking some time apart while I’m here in Tacoon.” Oh shit, I wasn’t expecting that when I made the joke. “Is this because of me?” His brow furrows. “Not just you,” he shakes his head, and I let out a breath. Thesedays, I don’t know what he says to her and what he chooses to keep to himself. I know he’s not going to tell her we slept together, but he might say enough for her to spiral. And I don’t blame it, how could I? I feel bad for her; I feel bad for him. This isn’t an ideal situation, and I know I’m in the wrong on this one. So wrong.
“But yeah, part of it. She thinks I’m still in love with you.” Oh, I swallow hard. “Are you?” He let out a short laugh. Sounded like a bad joke, but it is an honest question. One thing is to love someone, and another to be actively in love with that person. “I didn’t have to say it, she knows. It’s written all over me.” I lean in slightly, “Ethan…”
“I’m not asking for anything,” he whispers. “But I needed you to know?—”
“For what, exactly? So, I don’t feel bad that we spent the night together. Why do I need to know that you and your wife are taking time apart?”
“Because I needed you to know that I’m here, Liv. I’m herefor you.” I just stood there looking at him. “Say it, Liv.” I bite my tongue; I can’t say it. “Ethan, I… I don’t know what to tell you. What does this mean for you? For us? Is there even an ‘us? I’m just confused.” I take a breath and look away.
“This means I’m here. I’m not going anywhere unless you ask me to leave. It means that I love you. That I’m in love with you. And Hannah knows it. It means I have a whole month to figure out if you feel the same. If you still feel what I feel.” I’m suddenly speechless. This is what I wanted to hear, but it doesn’t feel like that. Notanymore. “Ethan, this is not the best time for me to help you figure things out. And it’s not the time for me to want the idea of us.” I sigh, frustrated, not at him, at all of it. The timing, at how much I’ve already lost.
“Liv, that’s the point. There’s no idea of us. There is anus. We’re right here.”
“I’m not your hall pass, Ethan. You can’t just say you’re taking a break from your wife and expect some sort of free trial for a month with me.” Fuck.
“Liv—” His voice breaks, but he tries to hide it. “This is not that. You’re not a hall pass. You’re not a free trial. For fuck’s sake, you’re not temporary. You are it. I fucking love you. I’ve been in love with you since I was ten years old. You were—” He chokes, and I just start crying. “You are my everything.” Now I’m really crying.
He takes a step closer, way closer, and he kisses me. It felt like he was oxygen, and I needed to breathe. And when the kiss finally breaks, we’re both panting. “Are we really doing this?” He nods. “We need to get out of here. Now. My place.”
He blinks, “What about the boys?”
“I’ll text Julia. She’ll take them to my mom’s and stay the night.”
“Let’s go.” He grabs my hand, tight, and we leave the bar like we’re running from something, or towards it. Either way, we don’t look back.
The door had barelyclicked shut when he had me. He didn’t hesitate; he backed me into the wall like he couldn’t breathe without touching me, his mouth crashing into mine, his hands already in my hair, gripping like he’d been starving. I kissed him back just as hard.
His hands were everywhere. By the time we stumbled into the bedroom, I was in nothing but my underwear, and he was just muscle and heat. One look in the mirror and I nearly lost it. We looked wrecked already—two people devouring each other like they were running out of time.
He grabbed my thighs and lifted me. I wrapped around him, holding on as he pressed me into the wall again, his mouth on my neck, one hand on my ass, the other sliding under my bra.
He dropped me onto the bed, staring like I was something he hadn’t let himself look at too long. “Spread your legs.” His voice was rough; there was no patience there, just a need.
I did.
