That was when I heard it, a soft, shaky sound that wasn’t quite crying but close. Little breaths caught in a struggle.
I followed the sound back into the living room, expecting maybe Emma or Bill, or that the TV had been left on low.
Instead, I stopped completely.
Lily was curled against Ethan’s chest, her small body trembling, fingers twisted into the fabric of his shirt like she was holding on for dear life. She was half-asleep, half-sobbing, probably from a nightmare.
Ethan sat absolutely still, one hand stroking her back in slow, steady lines. His eyes were soft, unfocused, as if the pain in her was echoing somewhere inside him too.
Her pain echoed somewhere deep within me too.
“Ethan?” I whispered.
He looked up briefly, just long enough for me to see the emotion flicker across his face, worry, guilt, fear, before he returned his attention back to her.
“She woke up from a nightmare,” he murmured. “About Matt and Jenny.”
My heart sank. Of course she did.
The things she had lost in the real world followed her in her dreams too. Not even in sleep was she at peace.
I stepped closer, easing down to sit on the couch beside them. I smoothed Lily’s curls away from her forehead, and she whimpered but didn’t let go of Ethan.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I said softly. “It’s okay. You’re safe. We’re right here.”
She clung harder to him, tiny fingers fisting into his shirt, and he adjusted his hold instinctively, patient and protective, careful not to jostle her.
This was too much for me to take.
I watched the tension in his jaw, the way he breathed a little unevenly, trying to keep himself steady so she wouldn’t feel his worry.
It echoed the sentiment in me, that this wasn’t the same boy I had dated in high school, who ran from anything too complicated.
This was a man who loved his family, and his steady presence acted as a comfort to the bravest little girl I knew.
Soft in the ways that mattered.
Lily sobbed, a deep, broken sound that punched a hole straight through our chest, and Ethan tightened his arm around her, whispering, “It’s okay, bug. I’ve got you.”
And suddenly, I was the one struggling for breath.
Watching him be this person for her, this anchor, this safe place, removed a resentment from inside me that I had thought was part of myself for a decade.
Lily eventually quieted, breathing deep and uneven against both of us. I slipped an arm around her too, and for a moment, without planning it, the three of us sat together in this quiet little circle of shared sadness and safety.
Ethan glanced at me then, brief, tired, full of something I was too tired to guess.
The tenderness of the moment bound us.
I looked away quickly because the truth of it was too much.
He murmured another soothing word into Lily’s hair, and she finally settled completely. Her grip loosened, though she kept one of Ethan’s fingers curled in her palm even in sleep.
I stood slowly. “I’ll… head home now. Text me if she needs anything.”
He nodded. “I will.”
I grabbed my keys, heart heavy from seeing the aching way he took care of my favorite person. And tonight, watching Ethan take charge with the kind of love that could steady a storm…
