Chapter 126: Scars That Time Doesn’t Erase

ELLIE

I felt Ethan’s hand rest on my back, making me move and finally step into the elevator.

Stopping on the opposite side of the couple, I waited for him to press the button for our floor, positioning himself beside me afterward.

I avoided looking at Charlotte, feeling discomfort consume me. If the situation was already difficult for me, I could barely imagine what Ethan was feeling. That made me instinctively squeeze his hand.

Eventually, I turned my attention to David. With a gentle smile, he nodded at me in greeting. I did the same, forcing my lips into a thin line.

“So, this must be the guy you were running from earlier?” he suddenly asked, good-naturedly, catching me off guard.

I cleared my throat, as if that could ease the tension in the air.

“Yes. This is my fiancé, Ethan…” I glanced at Ethan, whose cold and indifferent expression made me shrink a little. “I met David over coffee,” I added just as the doors opened.

“Good luck,” Ethan said curtly, staring at David before stepping out of the elevator, forcing me to follow him.

His harsh demeanor surprised me a little, but I had no right to be mad at him for it at the moment.

I tried to decipher his expression as we walked down the hallway, but I couldn’t tell if it was anger or something else. However, I knew he was feeling something, and that made my chest tighten.

Letting go of my hand when we stopped in front of our room, his eyes finally met mine. And no matter how much he tried to hide it, I could see the turmoil in them.

“I’m going for a walk,” he finally said before turning away, leaving me speechless.

“Wait…” I made him stop, bringing his attention back to me. “Do you want me to go with you?” I asked, trying to understand what he was thinking.

“Get some rest. I won’t be long,” was all he said.

I guess that’s a no. His refusal made my heart clench a little as I watched him walk down the hall.

*He just needs some time. That’s all.* I repeated to myself, taking a deep breath and stepping into the room, forcing myself to be understanding about the whole situation.

I was mentally exhausted. Hadn’t we already faced enough challenges? Kicking off my heels, I collapsed onto the bed, sinking into the mattress.

I just wanted to forget about all of this for a while, but it was impossible. Now, more than ever, I was worried about him.

*Where did he go? What was he thinking? Should I be concerned that he preferred to be alone? Or, even worse, did his reaction mean something I didn’t even want to consider?*

No. He loves me. I know that. I can’t start questioning it because of her. He’s proven it so many times that it would be unfair for me to have any doubts.

He just needs time. He just needs to clear his head. It’s normal to react this way when you find out the woman who ruined your life is about to get married. Or when your ex, who abandoned you, suddenly returns to town and moves in next door. The thought almost made me laugh.

I could imagine the panic and confusion he must be feeling. And since he needed some time alone, all I could do now was wait for him—and maybe relax a little.

✽

The sound of something breaking woke me up. I had fallen asleep in the bathtub.

I looked at the wine glass resting on the edge beside me. Luckily, I had set it there before dozing off.

Grabbing my phone, which I had left next to the glass, I checked the time. It looked like I had done more than just nap—I had already slept through thirty minutes of the last day of the year.

Refocusing on the noise I had heard earlier, which must have meant he was back, I got out of the tub.

After slipping on a robe, I walked back into the bedroom, finding Ethan kneeling in a corner. Approaching him, I quickly discovered the source of the noise.

He had dropped a glass on the floor and was now picking up the shards—with his bare hands.

Shit.

I flinched when I saw he was bleeding.

“What are you doing?” I knelt down, grabbing his wrists and forcing him to drop all the shards before pulling him up.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, his tone and expression making it clear that he was drunk.

“You cut yourself. What were you thinking?” I scolded him, staring into his dazed, slightly reddened eyes. “Come on.” I pulled him along, making him follow me into the bathroom to tend to his wound.

Sitting him on the windowsill, I searched through the drawers and cabinets for a first-aid kit.

After finding it, I cleaned the blood and applied some antiseptic. Thankfully, it was just a small cut on his index finger.

Eventually, I met his gaze, which was attentively following my movements as I finished placing a tiny bandage. I wanted to ask where he had been, but I held back.

“All done,” I said, drawing his attention to my face.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his drunkenness making him sound like a remorseful little boy who had gotten into trouble—almost making me laugh.

“It’s okay. It was just a glass,” I reassured him, letting go of his hand to cup his face.

Suddenly, his brown eyes, which had seemed lost moments ago, turned intense and melancholic, staring deep into mine, making any urge to laugh vanish—replaced by a sharp ache in my chest.

“Do you doubt that I love you?” he asked, making the ache deepen.

“No.” I stroked his cheek.

“Are you sure?”

Though I wasn’t sure if he was just too drunk, I chose to take his question seriously.

“I have no doubt about how you feel about me,” I tried to reassure him. “But I’d like to know how you feel—not just about me. I don’t want us to have secrets.”

“I’m sorry…” He looked away, and when his gaze returned to mine, his eyes looked on the verge of tears. “I don’t want to do anything that could hurt you or push you away again.” Wrapping his arms around my waist, he pulled me closer, burying his face in my chest. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t.”

“You won’t.” I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling my heart break at seeing him like this—so vulnerable.

A comforting silence settled between us as I listened to him breathe deeply against my chest and gently stroked his hair.

“Seeing her always makes me relive a little bit of it all again…” he suddenly confessed, surprising me. “Even though I don’t feel anything for her anymore. And I don’t want to feel that again… I don’t want to feel like nothing, or let fear take over me again. I don’t want to feel anger or resentment, but I can’t control—”

“It’s okay. You’re doing so well. You’ve overcome so much.” I had to fight back tears. “I’m proud of you. Proud that you’re telling me these things. It means so much. Thank you.”

His arms tightened around me, and his eyes met mine again.

“I’m afraid of doing something that makes me lose you again.”

“You won’t. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” I leaned in to kiss him softly. “And I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. After all, I said yes. Remember?” I teased, showing him the ring on my finger, finally drawing a smile from him.

“I love you,” he whispered, his warm breath revealing the whiskey he had drunk.

“I love you too—even when you replace me with a bottle of whiskey. If it was even just one.”

“Sorry. I just needed to clear my head.”

“Yes, and now you need a shower,” I teased, and he buried his face in my chest again, as if refusing.

Relaxing, I let the calm and comfortable silence settle again, as if the calm after the storm had finally arrived.

“So…” He pulled back after a moment, drawing me closer and trapping me between his thighs. “Are we good?”

“Yes.” I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck. “We’re good.”

“Great.”  His gaze shifted suddenly, becoming darker and more sensual. “So, can I make you come now?”