“That part has definitely been the hardest,” Grey agreed. “I’ve been living like a nun, without the fun uniform. It feels like all I do is work and sleep.”
Ethan shifted a little.
“So. You’re not seeing anyone, then?” She could tell how hard he was working to keep his tone casual, and tried unsuccessfully not to let herself be charmed by it.
“No. Are you?”
He shook his head. “Just myself, I guess.”
“Well, I’ve heard that’s the greatest love of all.” Grey sipped her sparkling water. “How’s that been going?”
Ethan readjusted his legs, crossing one ankle over his knee. He looked down at his plate.
“Honestly? It’s been the hardest fucking year of my life.” He opened his mouth to say something else, then hesitated. He met her eyes with an intensity that sent a thrill up her spine. “I’m so sorry, Grey. You were right. Everything you said that night. Everything I can remember, anyway. I’ve got a list of regrets a mile long at this point, but getting out of that cab is right at the top.”
Her gaze fell to her lap, not wanting him to see it soften. She couldn’t let him off the hook that easily. “You could’ve come back. You knew where to find me. I was at the hotel all night.”
He shook his head resignedly. “You saw me that night. I was out of my fucking mind. By the time I sobered up enough to think straight, it was too late. You were gone. And blocking my calls. Which, you know, fair enough.”
Grey pushed a piece of shrimp across her plate with her fork. Another memory from that night nagged at her. “Did you really think…that I was just with you for my career? Still, after everything?”
Ethan cringed. “I said that?”
She nodded, and he exhaled loudly.
“Jesus. I’m sorry. It’s what I was afraid of, sure, but you never did anything to make me feel that way. It was just my insecurity talking.”
She looked up from her plate, meeting his eyes again.
“I wasn’t going to leave. You know that, right? If you’d wanted to get help…I would’ve supported you. I wanted to.”
He ran his fingers through his hair, his face contemplative and serious. “That wouldn’t have been fair to you. That was the whole thing. I thought being in love with you would solve all my problems, and when it didn’t, it felt like everything was hopeless. I think a part of me even blamed you, which is so fucked, I know. If we’d stayed together, we never would have made it. I was too far gone, I couldn’t handle the pressure. I’d keep disappointing you, you’d keep resenting me. I don’t think I could’ve gotten sober with that hanging over my head. I had to get it together on my own.”
Grey was silent for a long moment. She turned his words over in her mind like they were shells on the beach, contemplating whether to bring them home with her or toss them back into the ocean.
“If you’ve been sober for this long, why didn’t you try to contact me sooner? Why now? Why…like this?”
He stacked a few of the empty plastic containers on top of each other on the table to make room for his plate. He stretched his legs, looping his arm over the side of the couch, his bare foot inches from her knee.
“As soon as I got to rehab, all I wanted to do was call you. You were all I could think about. But you’re not really supposed to reach out and try to fix your broken relationships while you’re there. And once I got out, it felt like it would be worse if I tried to come back into your life before I was sure I was…stable. Turns out it takes more than three months in rehab to untangle forty years of bullshit. Not that I’m done yet. I don’t know if I ever will be. But…I’m trying. I’m getting closer.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw. “I couldn’t figure out the right way to do it, the righttime, and then I saw you were doing that play…it felt like a sign. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have ambushed you like that. But I was scared if I told you I was coming you’d tell me to go fuck myself. I just…needed to see you. Even if you refused to talk to me after.”
Grey stacked her plate on top of his. Her head spun as she tried to process everything.
“So is this…what do they call it? Making amends?”
He shook his head. “Not officially, although I do owe you one. I wasn’t ready the first time around. Apparently once you finish all twelve steps you just keep doing them over and over forever, did you know that?”
“I had no idea.”
He smiled cheekily, the earnestness lifting from his expression. “My therapist gives me homework, too. Sometimes it feels like I’m going to college after all. Majoring in not being a self-loathing alcoholic piece of shit.” He held up his hands. “Wait, sorry, I’m not supposed to call myself a piece of shit anymore. I was ‘doing my best with the pain that I had.’ ” He delivered that last part in a wry, singsong tone.
She grinned back, unable to help herself. “Sounds like a lot of work.”
“It is. But it’s not so bad. Beats the alternative.”
She allowed her gaze to linger on his face. Take all of him in. He really did seem different. Even the best versions of Ethan were never free of a hovering cloud, ready to unleash a storm at a moment’s notice. But for the first time since she’d known him, that cloud was absent. It was subtle, something she never would have noticed if she weren’t so attuned to his moods, even now. He seemed lighter. Calmer. Fully present.
“You really haven’t had a drink in a year and a half?”
