Chapter 146: Silence, Whiskey, and Distance

**Chapter 146: Silence, Whiskey, and Distance**

ELLIE

Closing the door behind me, I took off my shoes and headed to the kitchen, tossing my bag onto the couch along the way.

Pouring myself a glass of water, I felt the uncomfortable silence begin to bother me. *Once again.*

With a sigh, I stared at the clock on the wall. At another time, he would have rushed to be here before I arrived. Remembering that made my chest tighten.

I didn’t know how much longer I could keep pretending that everything was okay.

I tried to remember when all of this started. In the first week, everything seemed fine. Or maybe his excessive care prevented me from noticing.

Actually, maybe I did notice a certain distance, but I must have thought it was normal, considering what we went through.

But now, almost two weeks later, I couldn’t keep pretending I didn’t see the way he was pulling away more and more, even while being present.

The truth is, he hasn’t been the same since the day we left that hospital. But I think it only hit me on Monday. The day I finally returned to work.

That night, when he arrived late and smelling of alcohol, I knew something was wrong. And since then, he’s been doing the same.

Every night, arriving late and smelling of whiskey, just to sleep next to me, without touching me. Just a kiss on the forehead. That’s all I’ve been getting from him.

I no longer knew if he was just respecting the medical recommendations or if he had simply lost interest in me.

Actually, I think I already have my answer. Today was the deadline, and even that wasn’t enough to make him arrive on time.

I think that was just another proof that he wasn’t okay. And although it was kind of obvious, with the distance, alcohol, and delays, I had no idea what was going on in his mind.

I wanted to ask many times in the past few days, but I think part of me wanted to believe he just needed some time.

But the truth is, I was the only one trying to fool myself. He wasn’t getting over it like I was, and I don’t think he ever would.

Maybe I didn’t realize how much he wanted the baby.

But now it doesn’t matter anymore.

Maybe it’s better this way.

Maybe he just doesn’t want me anymore.

Damn. What am I saying? I can’t do this. I can’t start assuming things without talking to him.

As much as I’m afraid of what he might say, I can’t keep postponing this conversation.

✽

After taking a shower and having dinner, I decided I couldn’t just keep waiting for him to arrive, because maybe he wouldn’t even come.

But I was determined to put an end to this torture, even if the result was even worse. So, I grabbed my keys and drove to his office.

I wasn’t sure if he would be there, despite his messages being practically the same throughout the week, saying he would stay late at work.

However, the smell of alcohol every night made me doubt that he was really telling the truth.

Getting out of the elevator, I headed straight to his office. As expected, the office was empty; after all, it was already past eight. No one should be working at that hour.

But I guess that rule never applied to Ethan.

I don’t know if I felt relieved or more worried when I saw the light in his office on. On one hand, I was happy to know he hadn’t lied, but on the other, I knew that wasn’t a good sign.

Once again, he was using work, burying himself in it to try to avoid dealing with everything else. *To avoid me.*

Stopping in front of his door, I hesitated a bit, gathering courage before knocking.

“Hi,” I said, entering and closing the door behind me, without taking my eyes off him.

“Hi…” he replied, unable to hide his expression of surprise and a bit of confusion.

Sitting behind the desk, with his jacket thrown over the back of the chair, he looked exhausted but also at ease—with the top buttons of his white shirt undone and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

His hair was slightly messy, his tie loosened, and on his desk was an almost empty glass and a half-full bottle of whiskey.

That made me question whether he was sober enough to have this conversation.

“I’m sorry, I was…”

“Avoiding me?” I teased, cutting him off, feeling the words hurt despite my weak smile.

“About to go home… But, is everything okay?”

“I think the fact that you’re still here answers that question.”

“I’m sorry, it was a tough week.”

No. This had nothing to do with his work.

“Maybe it’s better if you really go home today,” I suggested.

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

“You know… Maybe you think I need this, but I don’t. I’m fine. You’ve already done enough… Took care of me.”

“I don’t know if I understand.” He seemed genuinely confused.

“I’m saying you don’t need to show up every night anymore.”

“You don’t want me to go to your house?”

“No. I don’t want that. Not like this… So, thank you for taking care of me, but if you think you still have any obligation, I’m releasing you from it.”

“You’re releasing me?” He scoffed. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No. I just… can’t keep pretending everything is okay. That’s why I’m here.”

Looking away in silence, he seemed to consider my words.

“I’m sorry, okay? I know I’ve been arriving late…”

“No. You know it’s not about that… It’s the way you’re distancing yourself. I can’t just keep watching you pull away more and more, without knowing why… Without knowing what you’re feeling or thinking.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Damn… Stop apologizing.” I sighed with frustration. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

“I… don’t want you to suffer anymore because of me,” he said with regret.

“I thought you had died… I think nothing can be worse than that.”

“Yes, that was also my fault.”

“What I mean is, whatever it is, I can handle it. I think anything is better than the smell of alcohol and silence,” I said.

But he remained silent, probably because he couldn’t say another “I’m sorry.”

Taking a deep breath, I tried to prevent the frustration from taking over.

Then, I realized he might simply not want to talk. Even though I thought we had overcome that, it wouldn’t be a surprise.

“Unless you prefer it that way,” I said finally. “But… there are only a few weeks left until the wedding.” I hesitated, swallowing hard, fearing his response. “So, I need to know… if you still want this. Or if… we should postpone… Or…” My chest tightened as I held his gaze, the next word coming out almost as a whisper. “Cancel?”