That caught me off guard. “When I left?”
“People were horrible to him. You know this,” he said casually, taking a sip of his coffee like he hadn’t just wrecked me with that single sentence.
“I—”
His eyes lifted to mine.
“I didn’t know that,” I said quietly.
Oliver’s expression fell. “I mean, Ash… what did you expect? That the scandal would just leave with you?”
Yes. That had been exactly what I’d thought. It sounded stupid hearing it out loud.
“How was he struggling?”
Oliver glanced at Ethan, now talking to Henry, the two of them smiling easily, before turning back to me. “He didn’t really have much of a life in college. As far as I know, he kept to himself. Mostly stayed at the house with us or went out with Henny—and even that was rarely in the city.”
Something tight closed around my ribs. I watched Ethan laugh at something Henry said, like the past Oliver was describing belonged to someone else entirely.
“His own family wasn’t talking to him,” he said. “Going to Madrid was the right call, I think. Not just for you two. He needed a fresh start. He needed his life back.”
Fuck.
And then he’d gotten there, and I’d been a complete asshole to him.
No wonder he’d been so angry.
I’d blown up his life and then hadn’t even had the decency to really see it. To see him. Or what I’d done. Or tell him how much he’d meant to me all along.
I’d been a fucking idiot.
“Hey,” Oliver said. “You’re working on it now, right? Making it better? That’s what matters.”
I nodded, but the knot in my chest stayed tight. It would stay there until I actually did something about it.
Ethan needed this. He needed me to be honest. To show up—the way he kept showing up for me. And I was fucking done half-assing things with him.
“I’ll make it better,” I said, my voice firmer this time.
Oliver smiled. “Exactly.” He shrugged, then looked away. “At least you don’t have to deal with his father anymore.”
Another sinking feeling settled low in my stomach. “Actually… we should probably talk about that.”
Oliver’s expression sobered instantly.
My eyes found Ethan one more time, lingering there a second longer before I leaned forward and laid it all out—the shit piling up in the background.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ASH
Around seven that same night, I was pacing in the waiting room.
Oliver and Henry had stepped out to grab dinner for us, and Ethan had left a little while earlier to catch up on schoolwork. The hospital was quieter now, the usual sounds softened into a low hum—machines beeping somewhere down the hall, footsteps passing, the muted squeak of a cart being pushed by.
Right now, it was just Vivian and me.
The doors swung open, and she stepped out, her eyes finding mine immediately.
