Chapter 2

Ethan took one look at how pale I was and laid a hand on my forehead. "Olivia, you slept for twenty-four hours? And you turned off your location?"

His brows knotted. "You're burning up. Is this how you take care of yourself?"

Before I could react, he was inside, taking my temperature, putting the kettle on, and stirring a packet of cold medicine into a mug without missing a beat.

Soon, the familiar smell of chicken noodle soup drifted out of the kitchen. Ethan set a bowl in front of me. "Eat a little first."

I bent my head and took a spoonful. The broth was full of onion flavor, but there wasn't a single piece of onion in it.

Four years earlier, when I was at my worst, I threw up nearly everything I ate, so Ethan learned all my habits one at a time.

I couldn't handle anything spicy, and I loved the flavor of onion but would never eat the onion itself.

Ethan asked, "Why'd you stop?"

I looked up, and a stranger's perfume hit me before I could brace for it.

Then my eyes dropped to his open collar, and I saw a few fresh red marks there. They said without a word how close he had gotten to someone else. My stomach turned over.

I set my spoon down hard. "I don't like this soup anymore."

Ethan went still. "Then what do you want? I'll make something else."

I didn't answer. I pointed at his phone, its screen lighting up and going dark again. "Somebody keeps trying to reach you."

Something flickered in his eyes, and he declined the call fast. "It's the hospital. Don't worry about it."

His phone buzzed again, so he turned it face down on the table. "I came back to be with you, Olivia. Don't read into it."

I lowered my eyes and said nothing, and I let Ethan hook me up to an IV.

As the medicine kicked in, I drifted off. When I jolted awake, the bed beside me was empty, and the back of my hand was bruised and swollen where blood had backed up into the line.

I pulled the needle out, got up, and went into the living room. The wind carried his voice in faintly from the balcony.

"Yeah, I'm fine. You're the one I'm worried about."

I couldn't hear what the other person said, but Ethan gave a low laugh. "Her? She's clueless. She doesn't know a thing. I'll stay one more day, tops, and I'll be back with you tomorrow."

The call ended. Ethan didn't hurry back inside. He bent his head and lit a cigarette instead.

He hardly ever smoked. The last time had been three years earlier, when he got an invitation from a hospital in Alstern. It was the chance he had waited years for.

But after a few cigarettes, he said, "I'm not going."

I was so angry I threw the invitation back at his chest. "Ethan, are you out of your mind?"

He shrugged it off. "There'll be other chances. I'm not leaving you here alone."

In the end, I had to threaten to break up with him before he would go.

I pushed the balcony door open, and Ethan heard me and put out the cigarette in his hand at once.

"What are you doing out here? It's windy, and you can't catch a chill right now."

But I crossed the balcony in a few steps and threw my arms around him from behind.

Ethan went rigid. "Olivia?"

I pressed my face against his back. There were so many things I wanted to ask him. What was Claire to him? Why would he, of all people, betray me? Did the promises he had made still count for anything?

In the end, all I did was tighten my arms around him, bit by bit. "Don't leave this time. Stay and marry me."

Over the years, Ethan had proposed to me more times than I could count, and every time I said I was sorry, he squeezed my hand.

"It's not your fault, Olivia. I'll wait as long as it takes, until you're past all this and you really want to marry me."

At last, I was ready.

But his whole body went stiff. "Why do you suddenly want to get married?"

I didn't answer. I rested a hand on my stomach, and the silence stretched on.

"No." He turned around, looked at my pale face, and suddenly smiled again. "I mean, how could I let you be the one to propose? I should be the one asking you, with a ring in my hand."

He reached up and ruffled my hair. "Olivia, give me a few days."

I looked at him for a long time. "Okay."

Ethan left anyway. The next morning, all I found on the nightstand was a note.

Ethan: [Something came up at the hospital. I have to fly back to Alstern right away. I turned your location back on for you. If I can't be there, at least let me know you're safe.]

I held the note and didn't move. A few days later, the doorbell rang, as if on cue.

It was Claire, and I wasn't surprised to see her.

She gave a small smile. "Ms. Lane, can we talk?"