He’d needed her gone as quickly as possible so that he could howl out his grief alone. He couldn’t even bear to look at her. He couldn’t concentrate. Couldn’t think. Not while he was reeling. Not while the earth felt like it was falling down around him. It was better for her to go. They could talk when he was capable of putting a sentence together.
“Goodbye, Ethan.” She’d whispered the words just before she left. Goodbye. As if they were over. And that was what he’d wanted. Wasn’t it? For her to leave him alone.
His Shadows churned, acid climbing up his throat, and he swallowed hard. He’d wanted to be alone. To avoid exactly this situation. And yet, somehow, Kay walking out that door was entirely wrong.
He stayed at the window, his forehead pressed against the cold glass, until he saw her fly past on her motorcycle. Then, in a daze, he walked back into the bedroom and stopped in the doorway, looking at the rumpled sheets. Kay’s bra was still tangled with his shirt on the floor, as bright as fresh arterial blood.
He sank onto the bed and leaned his elbows on his knees, holding his pounding head bowed in his hands, and tried to breathe past the feeling that half his heart had just walked out the door. The feeling that the wound would bleed for the rest of his life.
He sat like that, not moving, as the sun climbed higher. And by the time it had passed his window, he knew that he had completely fucked up.
She was right. It didn’t make sense.
And, even if it had made sense, even if the evidence had been completely damning, he should have given her a chance to explain. James had pressed the one button guaranteed to detonate in the worst possible way. And it had—all over Kay.
Ethan had to fix it. But he had no idea how.
Guilt lay heavy on his chest, solidifying with her loss until it felt like he couldn’t breathe. That maybe he would never breathe freely again.
He had imagined that Kay could shatter him, and he’d been right. He was shattered. But he hadn’t imagined that he would be the one wielding the hammer that smashed them apart.
He had to speak to Kay. Apologize. Get on his knees and fucking beg. Whatever it took. If she would let him. God. The tension in his neck spread, becoming a gnawing pain in his chest, and he rubbed it roughly.
He got dressed and tried to call her. It went straight to voicemail. He waited five minutes and called again.
She was probably on the road to Wales. On a motorcycle on busy roads, tired and distressed. His paramedic’s brain filled with a horrific reel of devastating images of what the outcome of that could look like, and Ethan found himself heaving over the sink, trying to force himself to believe that she would be okay.
Something dark and ominous wound through his Shadows—a threat lurking somewhere unseen—but whether it was some vague premonition or the knowledge of what he’d already done, it was impossible to tell.
He tried Kay’s phone again and again. It went to voicemail every time.
He didn’t leave. If she came back, he wanted to be there. Instead, he checked travel reports obsessively, phoned her repeatedly, and spent the rest of the time sitting with his head in his hands, hating himself.
Finally, he fetched the bottle of whisky from his kitchen and poured himself a glass. He was about to toss it back when his phone rang. He had it in his hand and answered before he’d even looked at the name. “Kay?”
“Hello, is that Ethan?” asked a vaguely familiar female voice.
God. Not Kay. He sank back down. “Uh, yes. Who is this?”
“Ethan, it’s Elizabeth.”
“Elizabeth?” he repeated, blankly.
“Yes, Kay’s grandmother. Can I speak to her, please? She’s not answering her phone and I’ve been worrying about her all day. Something feels wrong, but I can’t reach her, and I remembered she called from your phone the other day.”
His heart shuddered heavily as the pain in his chest spread down his arms, and he made himself reply. “Elizabeth, I thought Kay would be with you by now.”
“Why would she be with me? I thought she was coming with you.” Elizabeth’s voice rose. “Where are you?”
Ethan answered slowly, trying to keep his growing fear under control. “She’s not here. She left early this morning.”
“She left early this morning?” Elizabeth repeated. “But I’ve had such a bad feeling…. Wait, why did she leave early this morning?”
Ethan closed his eyes, collecting his thoughts. However bad it would be to admit to Elizabeth what had happened, if it meant finding Kay, it was worth it. “We fought. I said some things, some horrible things… and she left.”
Elizabeth’s voice hardened. “You’d better start at the beginning.”
Ethan sank onto the sofa and told her the whole story. About how Amanda had betrayed him. About how he’d been so terrified of trying again, and how much Kay meant to him. And finally, about how James had arrived early that morning, claiming to be Kay’s fiancé. His voice broke as he got to the part where he’d kicked her out.
