The living room is dimly lit, the dim glow from my laptop screen illuminating the room. I scroll through various university and college websites, my heart heavy with the weight of the decision I am considering. The idea of transferring feels like a desperate attempt to escape the looming shadow of Ethan. But the worst part? I miss him. Terribly.
I hate myself for it. How can I miss someone who’s caused so much turmoil in my life? Someone who’s lied and manipulated me, making me believe that my luck has really turned? And yet I do because, deep down, I know it isn’t only about him. I knew from the first moment I let him in that it was not possible, and yet, I let my love for him grow. But he stomped on that love, which I always knew he would.
With a heavy sigh, I dismiss the hopeful tab and click on another university link. The reality hits hard; without my scholarship, I can’t simply up and leave. And the last thing I want is to owe anything more to Fitzgerald Hawthorne.
He kept his promise. But with Ethan’s absence stretching for almost two weeks, it’s clear he went above and beyond his words.
It probably serves his interests as much as mine, I think bitterly. It would be mortifying for his son to bring the daughter of his disgraced employee to the Christmas party.
Yet, despite the silence I think I want, I find myself glancing at my phone. Ethan’s calls and messages were incessant at first, each one a painful reminder. But then Eva left, and I felt even more isolated. Nessa, ever the protective friend, stepped in, becoming the rock I desperately needed. And now, as the days drag on, my phone remains eerily silent. Six days and counting.
This silence, this distance, it’s what I had asked for, isn’t it? Then why does every silent moment, every unlit notification, hurt even more than before? I huff, leaning back on the sofa. Staring blankly at the ceiling. The shadows seem to dance mockingly, echoing my inner chaos.
Get a grip, Poppy Donovan, I mentally scold myself. He’s just a guy. But even as I try to convince myself, deep down, I know it’s not that simple. Ethan Hawthorne isn’t just any guy. He’s the one who challenged me, the one who betrayed me, and the one I can’t seem to forget, no matter how hard I try.
The front door creaks open, and Nessa walks in, her face lighting up when she sees me sitting in the living room instead of being locked up in my bedroom. Behind her is Eva, looking much more peaceful, her trip clearly having done her good.
“Poppy!” Eva exclaims. She rushes over, and instantly, we’re wrapped in a tight embrace.
Pulling back, I smile. “Welcome back, Eva. How is your father doing?”
She shrugs but keeps my hand in hers. “He’s okay. He met someone, but he was worried about telling me.” She rolls her eyes. “Mom died four years ago. I’m happy he’s finding love again.”
I pull her into another hug. I love how gentle and selfless she is.
“What’s that?” Nessa asks, her voice dripping with suspicion.
I glance up to see her squinting at my laptop screen, a frown on her face.
“I’m… exploring some options,” I reply when she looks at me, trying to sound nonchalant.
Eva pauses, her eyes also scanning the screen as if trying to grasp the gravity of what she’s seeing. “Transferring? Are you serious, Poppy?”
I nod, biting my lip. “Thought about it. Maybe a fresh start?”
Nessa throws her hands up dramatically. “Oh no, not the runaway tactic! Classic Poppy move.”
Eva grins, nudging me. “She’s got a point.”
I roll my eyes but can’t suppress a smile. “I seem to remember someone running home to avoid a certain someone named Cole?”
Eva gasps, feigning shock. “How dare you bring that up!”
And not to let Nessa get away unscathed, I turn back to her. “And someone else avoiding her sister’s place because of… reasons.”
Nessa rolls her eyes and throws herself into the armchair across the sofa.
We all burst into laughter, the tension in the room dissipating a little.
After a moment, I slump back onto the sofa, feeling lighter. “Okay, okay, I get it. No running.” I don’t have the option, anyway.
Eva, ever the voice of reason, says, “Look, if you’re hurting, maybe you should talk to him. Get some closure.”
Nessa, with a mischievous glint in her eye, leans forward. “Or, hear me out; we could totally go and slash his tires. Maybe leave a little ‘remember me’ on his precious car. I’ve got a couple of screwdrivers that would work perfectly.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re insane.”
Eva nods in agreement. “Definitely an option, but before we embark on a life of crime…”
Nessa interrupts, waving her hand dismissively, “Been there, done that. It’s overrated.”
Eva cocks her head. “Good to know. Still, maybe let’s start with talking?”
The room fills with laughter again, the warmth and camaraderie of the moment wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. With these two by my side, I feel much better. I won’t run. I’ll face this challenge head-on, like every other obstacle that’s come my way.
The night wraps around me, and as I slide under the covers, the weight on my chest feels a tad lighter. Sleep comes quickly, pulling me into a familiar dream, a place where memories and desires intertwine. The familiar scent of his cologne, a blend of wood and a trace of spice wraps around me, making the dream feel almost tangible. I can sense him, the warmth of his body, the rhythm of his breathing, as if he’s right there beside me.
A sudden cold draft interrupts the dream, and I’m jolted awake. The room is bathed in the silvery glow from the streetlights outside. I feel a shift in the bed, a presence. My heart skips a beat, then races as I turn to find Ethan. There he is, his features softened by the dim light, his eyes deep pools of emotion, searching, always searching, for something in mine.
“What are you doing here? You need to leave,” I whisper, my voice trembling. How conflicting it is to have him there in the bed with me.
He looks at me, his eyes filling with pain. “Staying away isn’t working, Poppy. I’m taking a page from Cole’s playbook.”
“You need to leave,” I insist, but my resolve wavers as he moves closer, the warmth of his body almost magnetic. It breaks my heart to have him here, but the familiarity of his body soothes the pain he has caused himself.
“Just let me stay for tonight, please,” he pleads, his voice raw with emotion. “I can’t sleep without you, Poppy. I can’t stop thinking about you. I need some sleep for my training tomorrow.”
I hesitate, torn between the fresh pain that this night will bring and the pull of giving in to the bliss his presence brings me against all logic. “Just for tonight,” I finally whisper, too tired to fight the longing I feel.
He pulls me close, his breath warm against my ear. “It’s you,” he murmurs. “It has always been you.” And within a minute, his breathing evens out. He must be truly exhausted.
I don’t think I can fall asleep, not with the way my heart beats in an insane rhythm because he is here. But I close my eyes and bask in his warmth, his alluring scent that both hurts and appeases me and before I know it… I fall asleep.
The night passes in a blur, and the next thing I know, the first rays of dawn are filtering through the curtains. I carefully extricate myself from Ethan’s embrace and tiptoe into the living room.
Eva is already up, a cup of coffee in hand. She glances up as I enter, her gaze flicking to the bedroom door and then back to me. Her eyes widen as she notices the massive pair of trainers by the door.
“Are we not broken up?” she asks, looking back at me.
I exhale, running a hand through my hair. “We are, but… it’s complicated.”
“Isn’t it always?” Eva remarks, a hint of amusement in her eyes. She fills another cup of coffee and pushes it toward me.
I grab the cup and lean over the counter. “I love him, Eva,” I admit, looking down at the black coffee, the weight of the confession pressing down on me. “But I don’t want to. There’s too much history.”
“Between you two?” she asks, her brow furrowing.
I hesitate, searching for the right words. “You know the story.”
She nods slowly. “I do, but it’s your father and his father, and that’s not your story.”
I swallow hard, understanding what she is getting at. “Before, it was all just stupid petty rivalry pranks. He never truly wronged me, not until recently. But the things he did, the words I overheard… He lied, Eva.” I take a shaky breath, the weight of betrayal heavy in my chest. “He made me believe in a love that perhaps never existed.”
Eva takes a moment, her gaze thoughtful, before responding. “Love is… complicated. I’m no expert, and heaven knows I’ve had my share of heartbreaks. But, Poppy”—she pauses, choosing her words carefully—“when he looks at you, I can’t help but watch him.” She grimaces. “The way I say it sounds wrong, but…” She shakes her head. “What I mean is, you see the most in people when they’re caught off guard, and that’s when I observe him. His gaze holds nothing but adoration for you. It’s the kind of look you expect from a man that would go to war for you; it’s…” She snorts, blushing a little. “Frankly, it’s Darcy-esque.”
“Darcy-esque? Is that even a word?”
She waves her hand. “If it’s not, it should be, but you know what I mean.”
“What about the box, though?”
She takes a sip of coffee, looking at me silently. “Did he ask you for the box? Did he try to get to the box?”
I purse my lips but don’t answer.
Eva sips her coffee, her gaze steady on mine. “Maybe, just maybe, you weren’t the one he was trying to manipulate.” The words hang in the air, and for a moment, everything seems to stand still as I process the possibility.
“Who w—” I stop. His father! Is Ethan on my side? Did he pick me?
Trying to smother any kindling hope, I tell myself. “No, I… it’s only been a few months. It’s better to let it die. There is too much bad blood. Too much history. I can’t go around flaunting a Hawthorne to my family. My mother went through enough.”
Eva’s eyes turn sad, and she reaches out to squeeze my hand. “And so did you, Poppy. You deserve happiness, whatever that looks like for you.”
I nod, tears pricking my eyes. Without another word, I rush to the bathroom, needing a moment to collect myself. The hot water of the shower does little to wash away the confusion and pain.
Once I am dressed and ready to go, I stand at the doorway, torn. Part of me yearns to stay, to face him, to confront the potential revelations that could change everything. But another part, the part that’s been hurt and betrayed, urges me to flee. And in that moment of weakness, I choose escape, not yet ready to face the reality of our entangled emotions.
The weight of the day presses heavily on my shoulders as I enter my apartment late in the evening. I remove my shoes and sigh, leaning against the door. I’m somehow glad the girls are not here tonight. I’m really not in the mood to talk.
Cleaning my mother’s house and the shift at work had been a welcome distraction, but now, as I’m alone with my thoughts, the reality of my situation with Ethan looms large in my mind. I’ve expected to hear from him all day, but there’s been nothing. Radio silence. Is it a good thing?
I walk into my bedroom, and before I can react, the door swings closed to reveal Ethan. His intense gaze locks onto mine, and without a word, he turns the lock with a faint click. The finality of the sound sends a shiver down my spine.
My eyes dart to a sports bag on the floor, my confusion evident. “What’s this bag?”
“My overnight bag,” he replies, his voice low and husky.
“We said one night,” I counter, my voice tainted with apprehension.
Ethan steps closer, the intensity in his eyes unwavering. “One night won’t be enough. I can’t get enough of you.”
My heart races. “I gave the box to your father. You don’t have to play this game anymore.”
His face softens, and he takes a deep breath. “Poppy, I never cared about the box. All I ever wanted… was you.”
I take a step back, disbelief evident in my eyes. “We were always at each other’s throats in high school. How can I believe that?”
He breathes out, running a hand through his hair. “Yes, because it was the only way you’d notice me. All I ever wanted was to be on your team, but you seemed to acknowledge me only when I was aggravating you. It became our thing because I wanted to be in your world, even if it was through anger.”
My eyes widen, my mind racing. “You’re making that up.”
He shakes his head, his gaze never leaving mine. “I love your locket,” he murmurs.
I instinctively touch the delicate piece of jewelry around my neck, my confusion deepening. “What?”
He points to the pattern on the locket. “The pattern of shiny stars. One, four and three, right?”
I open the locket, my fingers trembling. To my astonishment, he’s right. “How did you…?”
“One-four-three,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “It means ‘I love you’ in Morse code.”
My heart skips a beat. “You gave it to me?”
He nods, hope and vulnerability shining in his eyes. “It wasn’t from your dad. It was from me.”
I blink back tears, my emotions a whirlwind. “But why?”
Ethan takes a shaky breath. “I want to be with you, even if it means being your dirty little secret. As heart-wrenching as it is for me, I’d rather have you on your terms than not have you at all.”
Without another word, I close the distance between us. Our lips meet, and the world fades away. The kiss is deep, passionate, and all-consuming. His tongue brushes against mine, teasing and exploring, while my teeth graze his plush lower lip, eliciting a moan from him. The taste of him, the feel of his lips moving against mine, sends a rush of heat throughout my body. Every touch, every sensation is magnified, and I lose myself in the intensity of the moment.
After our lips part, I murmur the words he’s been craving to hear: “I love you.”
His eyes light up, and he tenderly holds my face between his hands. He studies me, searching for something deep within my eyes before a heartfelt smile graces his lips.
“Poppy, I’ve loved you like a madman since the day you walked into that garden party in that blue dress you despised. I was smitten, and it infuriated me that you seemed to overlook me. From the moment I stole your ice cream to catch your gaze, I’ve been irrevocably yours.”
Before I can respond, he captures my lips with his, his tongue exploring my mouth with an intensity that speaks of pent-up longing and desire.
We make our way to the bed, shedding our clothes. As we come together, he loves me with a reverence that leaves me breathless, showing me with every touch, kiss, and whispered word the depth of his feelings. In this intimate moment, I realize that our love is something worth fighting for, and I can’t let past shadows cloud our future.
Ethan belongs to me, and I to him. The world will have to come to terms with that.
