Not that it would make a difference. Even if he wanted to, Ethan wasn’t free to go to New York with her. Not only was his business in Chicago, but Amanda and his kids were there, and he was never going to move away from his kids.
Sure, if it was just a 3 month internship she could go alone, but if 3 months turned into 6 and going to school there….
They’d only just gotten together. They wouldn’t stand a chance at surviving long distance already, especially not with all of their special circumstances.
Briefly, so briefly, she imagined what that would be like. Pictured strolling through Manhattan on Ethan’s arm in stylish new clothes, the city lights the perfect backdrop, gushing about what a great experience she had in Hong Kong, but how she was glad to be back at her gallery—and back in his arms.
Sighing heavily as the fantasy died, Willow shifted her canvas tote of groceries and rapped on Ethan’s door.
While she waited she looked down the corridor, imagining the blank white walls of Celine’s gallery instead—imagined helping Celine prepare for a famous artist’s exhibition, drinking in her knowledge; circulating during the event, bumping elbows with like-minded people, creating opportunities of her own.
“Dammit, Dad,” she muttered under her breath.
Ethan still hadn’t come to the door, so she knocked again and fished her phone out of her purse, texting him that she was there.
Then she waited. And waited. And waited some more.
The bag of groceries grew heavy, so she slid down the wall beside his apartment door, placing the bag on the floor beside her.
Checking her phone, she saw that he still hadn’t responded. Her eyes wandered over to his front door and she couldn’t help frowning.
It wasn’t like him to ignore her texts, and it certainly wasn’t like him to disappear when he knew they had plans.
Switching to the phone app, she decided to call him. Maybe the nervous feeling in her gut would subside once she heard his voice.
Only she got his voice mail. Her dad flashed through her mind and she went cold all over, hanging up and calling right back. She repeated that action 6 times before she finally connected, hearing first a shrill scream, then some friction, and finally Ethan’s somewhat breathless, “Hello?”
Relief flooded through her entire being. “You’re a hard man to get a hold of.” Then, thinking to explain all the phone calls, she added, “You didn’t answer my texts, so I got worried.”
Blowing out a sigh, he said, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t get to my phone.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at the house.”
Willow blinked, trying to recall him mentioning he was stopping by to see the kids. “Oh.”
“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize the time.”
“Always good to hear,” she said, attempting a joke, but she regretted the words as soon as they were out. “Time flies when you’re having fun, huh?” She tried again, then slammed her palm against her forehead as that comment came out sounding even more insecure than the first.
“No, not at all,” he said. “Caleb’s sick, it’s a… real mess over here, actually. I just had to help Amanda strip the bed again—” He faltered, maybe realizing, as she was realizing, that it felt weird for him to tell her that. “Um, anyway, yeah, so… I’m so sorry I didn’t call or text.”
“That’s okay,” she said, reaching into the grocery bag for something to snack on. “I can wait. Or, if you have a key hidden out here, I could get started cooking.”
He paused just long enough before answering that she knew what he was going to say. “I don’t, and… I’m actually not sure when I’m going to make it back. I’m about to head out right now and pick up some Pedialyte and crackers, but I don’t want to leave if he’s still throwing up.”
“Right, no, of course,” she managed, nodding her head vigorously despite her level tone.
“Can I get a rain check?” he asked apologetically.
“Yeah, of course. No big deal.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call. I feel like an asshole.”
“It’s fine, you were busy with your son and… everything. It’s fine.”
Ethan sighed and the line fell silent.