I’m feeling very bummed out and defeated by the time we arrive at the airport. It isn’t very crowded today and we get through security pretty quickly. His flight leaves a half an hour before mine though so he drops me off at my gate and then heads to leave.
“All right, you can call me for anything,” he says as he slings his bag over his shoulder.
I nod, trying not to pout as I stand near the seating area with my suitcase at my feet. “I know.”
He walks backward, dodging to the side to get around people. “Especially if you feel the need to.”
I force a smile, pretending I’m more okay than I really am. “Stop worrying about me,” I say. “I’ll be fine.”
He returns my smile, but he’s worried about me. I can see it in his eyes. “All right, I’ll see you in three days.” He turns around and walks away, and it makes me sadder because he didn’t even kiss me good-bye.
I watch him with a giant frown on my face. He’s dressed in faded jeans secured by a studded belt, a dark plaid shirt, and there are leather bands on his wrists. His dark hair is all messy because he took too long in the shower and we had to rush out of the house before he had time to do anything with it, although he didn’t really care. He’s so gorgeous and I wish I knew for certain if he was mine, but I don’t know that yet. These things take time to fully understand.
Once he’s out of my sight, I turn toward the section where I’ll board with my ticket in my hand. I’m used to flying first class, but I can’t afford it.
I’m on the verge of tearing up when I feel someone grab me from behind. I open my mouth to scream bloody murder, but arms encircle my waist and I catch a scent of a very familiar cologne and relax into Ethan’s touch.
“I forgot something,” he whispers in my ear, turning me toward him. His eyes are dark, his hair hanging in his face as his gaze drinks me in slowly, deliberately. I forget to breathe as he leans down and kisses me. And I mean kisses me, the kind of kiss that rips my breath right out of my lungs, makes me forget where I am, who I am. As our tongues entwine, it makes every single struggle I’ve been through worth it because they’ve gotten me right here to this moment—they’ve gotten me to him.
His hands comb through my hair and I breathe in the scent of him as I clutch on to his arms, wishing he wasn’t leaving me. By the time we pull away, we’re panting, my heart is slamming against my chest, and everyone is staring at us with silly smiles on their faces that I’m certain match my own.
“I’ll see you in a few days.” He kisses me on the cheek before backing away.
I nod, breathless and flushed. “Okay.”
He smiles and then picks up his bag, turning around and walking away for real this time. I still feel sad, but I’m twenty times lighter now, knowing I can make it three days.
“I love you. I really, really do,” I whisper so softly no one can hear. I want to tell him. I do because I think it’ll be different from when I told Sean I loved him, but I can’t quite get there yet. But I can feel myself headed in the right direction and that’s got to mean something and gives me hope that when I do finally tell him, things will be different because Ethan’s different.
And so am I.
Chapter Sixteen
Lila
Ella and Micha’s house is adorable. I would have thought I’d dislike the place, seeing how small it is and that it’s perched at the end of this really bumpy road that weaves through a neighborhood where all the houses look different. It’s pretty, though, the way the yellow shutters stick out from everything else around and how the grass is covered with a variety of flowers, none of which go together but make it colorful and lively. It’s Thursday morning and the sun is hot, but in a bearable way, unlike the stifling desert air in Vegas.
“I really love your house,” I remark for probably the third time as Ella and I sit on the back porch beneath the sunlight. We have shorts and tank tops on. My hair hangs down to my shoulders and I haven’t put my makeup on yet, but no one’s around so it doesn’t really matter.
“Thanks.” She stretches her feet out in front of her. “We got it dirt cheap, too, thanks to Micha’s mom,” she says and when I glance at her funny, she adds, “An old friend of hers works out here as a realtor and she hooked us up with this place. They lady who owns it is really old and probably bought it back in the 1940s when it was built so she wasn’t asking a lot for it. We were really lucky.”
“I’m glad,” I say. “You guys needed some good luck.”
“We did?” She crooks her eyebrow, questioningly.
“I think everyone does,” I say, hoping that I’ll get some good luck soon and finally work up the courage to tell Ethan how I feel about him. That would be the best luck ever. “So,” I say, changing the subject, “you’re really getting married on Saturday.”
Ella nods, sipping her coffee as she stares out at the fence that divides her yard from the next-door neighbors, who apparently collect wind chimes, since there’s a collection of them trimming the entire back end of the house.
“I really am. Totally weird, huh?” she asks, seeming a little nervous, but that’s just how Ella is. When I nod, she adds with a discrete glance at me from the corner of her eye, “About as weird as your new hairdo.”
I touch the ends of my hair, scrunching my nose. “It doesn’t look that bad, does it?”
She shakes her head and sets her coffee mug by her feet. “No, I like it…” Her green eyes sweep over me as she readjusts the elastic around her auburn hair. “It just looks different—you look different.”
I examine my nails, pretending to be blasé. “How so?”
She shrugs, staring at me with a quizzical look on her face. “You’re dressing different… less fancy and more like me. And I don’t know… you just look different. Happier or something.”
That throws me off the slightest bit. “Happier? That’s weird, because a lot of people have said I was the happiest person they’d ever met.”
She reaches for her coffee, again tucking her foot underneath her as she brings the brim of the glass cup up to her mouth. “I can see why they’d say that, but I don’t know…” She takes a sip, shaking her head. “You just look different for some reason. I can’t put my finger on it.” She rotates her cup in her hand, pressing her lips together, and it looks like she’s trying really hard not to smile.
“What?” I finally say as I reach for my coffee. A little laugh slips through my lips because she looks so amused and I have absolutely no idea what’s going on. “Why do you keep giving me weird looks?”
“Is there anything you want to tell me?” she asks.
I shrug, taking a gulp of the coffee. “That you have a nice house.”
She gives me a tolerant look. “Lila.”
I press back a smile, even though I have no clue what’s going on. “Ella.”
She grins, and then shakes her head, laughing. “Fine, if you’re not going to fess up, then I’ll just say it.” She pauses, griping the handle of her mug. “I heard a rumor that there finally might be something going on between you and Ethan.”
I hold my cup in one hand and thrum my fingers on the wicker armrest of the chair. I haven’t talked to Ethan since we parted at the airport. I texted him a few times, but he always gives one-word responses, so I decided to give him some space, seeing how he’s probably really busy with London. God, even thinking about it hurts a little. “By rumor, you mean Micha told you about us.”
She shrugs, grinning amusedly. “Maybe.”
“What did he say exactly?” I ask curiously, a little worried about what he said, but the fact that he did tell him has to mean something, right? That he cares enough about me to tell Micha. “Or should I say, what did Ethan tell him?”
She turns her head toward me with a mischievous grin on her face. “Why don’t you tell me your side and then I can compare?”
I set the coffee cup down on the ground again while she takes a drink of hers. “Fine, we f**ked.”
She sucks in a sharp breath and then quickly moves the mug away from her mouth as she spits coffee all over the deck in front of her feet. “Holy shit, Lila.” She presses her hand to her chest, coughing as she works to catch her breath. “I was not expecting you to be so blunt about it.”
I can’t help myself. A big silly grin rises on my lips. “Me neither, but I think I’ll have to do it more because it’s really, really fun.”
She wipes the coffee from her face with the back of her hand. “You’re starting to sound like me.”
“The new, fun you or the old, boring one who I first met?” I joke. “I need clarification.”
She shields the sunlight with her hand. “The new one, which is the better one. Trust me.”
“I do trust you,” I say. “But the Ella I’ve always known, new or old, was still a good person and that’s a great thing to be compared to.”
She shakes her head, stifling a smile. “Are we going to have a moment here or something?”
“Maybe,” I say. “We never really did have one in the entire two years that we’ve known each other. Maybe it’s time. We can hug, cry it out, and tell each other how much we love each other.”
“I’m not one for crying.” She lowers her hand to her lap. “Or for throwing out the L word.”
“I know and honestly I’m trying to cut back on it,” I joke. “We could have a girl-bonding moment though and you could ask me how sex with Ethan was while we eat popcorn and watch a really sappy movie.”
She makes a gagging face, pressing her hand to her chest like she’s choking on the idea. “I never ever want to hear you talk about sex with him. Ever.” She shudders. “So gross.”
We giggle over it for a moment and then talk about lighter things, like how Micha and she have been over the last couple of months. She presses me for more Ethan details, asking me why he couldn’t get off work to fly out with me. Apparently, Ethan never told anyone about London and I decide to keep it to myself, figuring Ethan must have his reasons. Other than that I don’t have much to say, besides the fact that kissing Ethan is amazing and that only makes her dry heave. She understands my need to be vague for the most part, because she’s pretty much the vaguest person I’ve ever met, and she doesn’t press much, which makes me glad she’s my best friend. I didn’t even realize how much I’d missed being around her and it makes me feel happy that I have that kind of friendship with someone but kind of sad because I know I’m only going to miss her when I go back to Vegas.
“So what about your dress?” I ask as we head back into the kitchen, deciding for a subject change. I need to talk about something happy and clothes always do that for me.
She sets our mugs into the sink and rinses them off. “You want to see it?” she asks, shutting the faucet off.