Home… the thought fills my chest with butterflies. What it would feel like to live with Ethan. To wake up next to him every morning. To sit at the table and drink coffee and have breakfast with him before we both leave for work. To come home at the end of the day and have dinner with him. To go to bed at night and make love to him.
I glance over at him and think about what he said to me earlier when he asked me to move in: I know him better than anyone. Why did I tell him no to living together? Because I don’t know enough about him? Do you ever really fully know someone? And isn’t that the point of living with someone, to share your life with them? Get to know more about them every day.
My thoughts go back to Stephen. I thought I knew everything about him and never knew he had a gambling addiction. I’ve known my mom my entire life and never knew she was keeping secrets. What I do know, though, is that life is too short and I promised Stephen I would live hard and love harder, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
“I’ll move in with you.” Ethan glances over at me before looking back out at the dark road ahead. “When I’m safe and it’s time to leave the beach house, I’ll move in with you.”
His lips curl into a beautiful grin, and he takes my hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth. “Thank you,” he murmurs, kissing the tops of my knuckles. “You have no idea how happy you’ve just made me.”
But I think I know, because for the first time in my life, I realize I’m no longer just surviving, getting through each day, but instead actually living. My heart feels full and content—I feel happy.
Over the next month, Ethan and I settle into a comfortable routine. During the day, we spend a lot of time together. Some days, it’s as simple as lounging around the house with his mom and dad, and others, he surprises me with trips. He makes it a point to get several items from my list checked off. We visit the local aquarium and swim with dolphins, go to the shooting range, where he teaches me how to shoot a gun, and one night after coming home from the club, he brings home a joint. It only takes a couple hits for me to get high and turn into a giggling mess. Ethan cracks up, thinking I’m hilariously entertaining, and tells me he may have to bring home another joint in the future so he can be entertained again.
At night, he goes to the club. Sometimes I go with him, but more often than not, I stay home. My headaches tend to be worse at night, so I use the time he’s at work to rest. By 2:00 a.m. he crawls into bed. Most nights when he gets home, I’ll wake up and we’ll talk. I think it’s Ethan’s way of us getting to know each other. He’ll ask me questions and tell me about himself. Talking almost always leads to kissing and fooling around, but Ethan never lets it go too far, always stopping things before we cross that imaginary line. Sometimes I argue, other times I pout, but no matter what, he never gives in. He tells me I’ll regret it and then holds me close while I lay my head on his chest and fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat.
Blaire and Victor have come over on several occasions to barbeque and go swimming. She’s officially moved out of the condo and is planning their wedding. Since I’ve agreed to move in with Ethan, he had the stuff I need brought here, and what I don’t need, brought to his place. I haven’t been to his home yet, but I think he’s waiting to bring me once I’m safe and we’re able to move in.
My mom and I haven’t spoken at all. She’s called me and left messages, but I’m not ready to deal with her yet. I know when I do decide to talk to her, I’m going to demand she explain what Stephen said to me, and no matter which way she goes, whether she tells the truth or lies, my life—our life—will be forever changed.
Then one day, while I’m lying in bed, resting, our comfortable routine is broken. Raquel knocks on my door and tells me Ethan had to go away. Confused, I sit up and ask, “Why?”
“I’m not sure, sweetie. He asked me to let you know that he’ll be home as soon as he can. He also asked that you not leave while he’s gone.”
“Do you know how long he’ll be gone for?”