“I’m so sorry,” I said anyway. Because even if I couldn’t say the rest, I needed him to hear that much.
His eyes dropped for a second. “Ash…”
Tentatively, my hands settled at his hips, expecting him to pull away.
He didn’t.
“I didn’t mean what I said,” I went on. “Or how it came out. I want you here. Ineedyou.”
His blue eyes strayed, then locked on mine.
“Sometimes I need you more than air,” I said softly. “Like right now.”
His brows drew together, and his expression softened.
“I’m sorry for ever making you feel like I don’t. That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever told.”
He searched my face, eyes moving slowly, like he was deciding whether to believe me. Then he nodded. “Okay.”
The tension in my jaw eased. Some of the urgency drained out of me, leaving fear in its place.
Ethan must have seen it, because he stepped closer, his hands sliding into my hair. “I’m not leaving you, Ash. I can be angry at you. I can need time. But I will never turn my back on you when you need me. Never.”
A weak smile broke through my expression, and whatever resolve I had left shattered. I pulled him in by the waist, wrapping my arms around him. A second later, his came around my shoulders, holding me just as tightly. The warm press of his body, the clean scent of him, the way he fit against me—everything about him—quieted some of the ache spiraling inside me.
How could one person hold this much power over another?
His fingers traced my shoulders, then slid into the hair at my nape. “When did it happen?”
I didn’t need to ask what he meant. “After we kissed. That same night.”
His body relaxed a fraction more. “You’re an idiot for not telling me.”
I nodded into his neck, eyes closing as I nuzzled closer. “I am. I’m sorry.” My arms tightened around him.
Ethan exhaled softly against my temple. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” His voice dropped. “Will you talk to me?”
My first instinct was to deflect—to joke, to flirt, to pull us out of the moment before it could cut too deep.
But I couldn’t. Not now. Not with him.
“I’m scared.” Saying it felt like stepping off solid footing.
The engines roared around us, sealing us into a private bubble. Just him and me.
“Of what?”
I buried my face in his neck for a moment longer, breathing him in, buying myself a second before lifting my chin. My gaze drifted past his shoulder to the endless white of clouds beyond the window. “Of things changing,” I said quietly. “Of losing something again. Of having the ground pulled out from under us—Henny, Oli, and me.”
The words settled between us. I felt them land—on him, as he tried to understand, and on me, as I realized how true they were.
His hands cradled the back of my neck, fingers moving slowly through my hair. “Are you thinking about your mom?”
The drop in my stomach was immediate. All the words I had vanished, caught in the tight knot in my throat. I nodded.
“That does sound scary,” he said. “Life does that sometimes. But I’m here, okay? And your brothers are right there on the other side of the door.”
My eyes burned, and I closed them again.
