And it wasn’t. Before he even answered—although his hesitation was probably answer enough—she launched into a tirade, calling him every name in the book, and assuring him she was going to do everything in her power to convince Willow to report what he had done to her so that “his disgusting ass” would rot behind bars.
Someone took the phone from her at the end of the tirade and he held out hope that it might be Willow until he heard a firmer, calmer tone. “Willow no longer has a phone and she isn’t allowed to use this one. Don’t try to contact her again or we will file a restraining order.”
It should have occurred to him that the reason Willow’s father left without having the final word was that he had another plan. It should have at least crossed his mind, before he let Willow leave that night, that she might be walking into an ambush.
He had been too distracted.
Like he had been distracted, really, since the moment he first laid eyes on the damn girl.
The old Ethan would have thought of all those things. Would have noticed more.
Of course, the old Ethan wouldn’t have been involved with her in the first place, so his life wouldn’t have been blown to shit and he wouldn’t have to worry about angry parents wanting to castrate or kill him.
Oh, how simple life had once been.
Since it didn’t seem like Willow was the one who wanted nothing to do with him (there would be no reason to take away her phone if she had agreed to it) he tried to think of some clandestine way to contact her. He knew which school she went to, so even though it made him feel shadier than he was, he lurked in the parking lot one day, hoping he could catch her before she went home.
Her mother picked her up as soon as she walked out of the building, and Willow’s head was down, so she didn’t see him.
Next, he started going to the Chinese restaurant they had gone to in the evenings and staying there until they closed, hoping she might think of it too, and maybe she would show up.
When they closed, he would go to the basketball court and just park, on the off chance that she would go back there.
It had been six nights, and nothing.
There was no sign of her existence, just like before.
On a whim, a day earlier, he created a fake social media account and tried to friend her, but either it had been ignored, or she hadn’t been online since. Surely if she saw it, she would guess it was him.
As he sat in the restaurant, checking the clock again, he found his thoughts drifting back to the prospects he didn’t enjoy thinking about.
Maybe Willow resisted at first, but in the end, she ag
reed that cutting him out of her life was a good call. Maybe she was dealing with it like a break-up, and he just hadn’t gotten the memo.
Worse: even if she hadn’t, maybe it was what was best for her. That was almost definitely true. Even if he was in any way right for her at his best, he was so far from his best. His whole life was a mess, he had no idea what was happening with his family, and before the possibility of death had shown up at his door, he had been the one wanting to take a step back to protect her. He knew it couldn’t end well.
He knew he would hurt her, in the end.
He just hadn’t expected the end to come so quickly, and without having a part in the decision.
Wood scraped the cheap tile floor and the guy behind the counter called over to him, “Do you need a box tonight?”
Glancing back at the younger man, Ethan forced a smile and shook his head. “No, not tonight.”
One last look at the clock.
One more minute.
Ethan sighed, putting the cover back on his tablet and standing.
He checked his phone, one last time.
It read: 10:30. No more minutes.
Nodding at the man behind the counter, he said, “You have a good night.”
The man smiled and nodded back. “Okay, you too. See you tomorrow.”