The Undertow of Evelyn Graymore
Page 88
“I can’t go with you, Ethan.”
He blinked, eyes narrowing as his mind grasped at the fraying threads. Somehow, he forced a smile to stay.
“Oh.” He shrugged, nonchalant. “Well, that’s…that’s okay.” He twisted his fingers together. “Yeah, no problem. Can we do something another day? Or—”
“I can't see you anymore,” I blurted out, forcing myself to look him in the eye as I wrenched the words from my mouth. “At all.”
Somehow, the silence was louder than the waves crashing around us.
The lighthouse’s beam continued to sweep past.
Red.
White.
Red.
Ethan's face went even paler than it was. “Did I…do something?” His voice came out small and broken.
It took everything in me not to reach for him.
I kept my face as neutral as I could and my gaze void of sympathy. “It’s just not going to work, Ethan. I’m sorry.” I could see him trying to process the words and watched the moment they sliced through. My words were venom, seeping in and burning like salt in a fresh wound.
The wind whipped up, tossing his sandy-blond hair around him. His brows bunched, and his mouth hung open, then closed, processing the words in real-time.
“I–I don’t understand,” he murmured, taking a step toward me. “What about the kiss? I know—” He grabbed my hand. “I know you felt something. We both felt that.” His eyes searched mine, desperate for this to be a cruel joke.
I did feel it. More than you can imagine, I thought, and that’s exactly why I was doing this.
The words tumbled out before I could stop them. “I did feel something…I—I do. I–”
No.
“Then why?” He gripped my hand tighter, as if his warmth could thaw the layers of ice I’d been trying to build around my heart since the day we met.
I pulled my hand away, eyes dropping to the ground. “There’s nothing to say, Ethan. I just. I’m not interested in you like that, okay?”
It was quiet for a moment before he said, “Bullshit.” His words came out sharp, and my face darted up as I caught the fire burning in his eyes, a blaze I’d never seen from him before.
“You don't kiss someone like that…” He stepped towards me, eyes burning even brighter. “You don't feel what we felt and then act like you don't.”
Please Ethan. Just stop. I’m begging you.
Slowly shaking his head, he said, “Something's wrong. You’re not telling me something.” He grabbed both my hands, pulling me toward him. His fingers tightened around mine. The desperation in his green eyes nearly broke me. “Tell me what's going on.”
My heart ripped open with every pleading word he spoke. Fighting was something so deeply ingrained into who I was and who I’d always been. I'd fought my entire life. Whether for my autonomy, or to keep Dad’s shop alive, or against the men who hated my strength.
Or fought against the ones who thought they had the right to take whatever they wanted from me—simply because I was a woman who refused to break.
And yet this man, this beautiful, caring man, was standing right in front of me.
Fighting for me.
Fighting for us.
Ethan wasn't going to make this easy, and I had no other choice now.
Please forgive me one day…