Addicted (Ethan Frost #2)(79)

“That’s understandable.”

“Yeah. I know. I was just a kid who wanted his dad. But when it came time for him to leave two days later, I wouldn’t come out of my room. I wouldn’t say good-bye to him. And when he came to me and tried to hug me, I told him not to bother coming back. I told him if he couldn’t be the kind of dad that my friends had, then I didn’t want him at all.

“Those are the last words I ever said to him.”

“Oh, God. Oh, Ethan.” I reach for him then, wrap my arms around him. He doesn’t fight me, doesn’t get me to try to let go, but he doesn’t really yield, either. He just sits there, like telling the story has made him numb.

“I’ve never told anybody that before.”

“I know. Thank you for telling me.”

He nods. “I do love you, Chloe.”

“I know.”

“And it’s not you that I don’t trust. It’s me.”

I rest my hands on his cheeks, turn his face to mine so that I can see his eyes and his expression. “I don’t understand.”

“My whole life, I’ve let people down.”

“That’s not true—”

“It is. My father wanted me to take his absences like a man. He wanted me to be the man of the house while he was gone. Instead I told him that I hated him and I cried every night.

“My mother wanted me to follow her family into politics. She wanted me to capitalize on my father’s service record and turn that into a political career for me that would hopefully culminate in the presidency. Instead, I went into biomedical engineering and she pretty much forgot I existed unless she wanted something from me.

“Same story with my brother and my grandparents. Same story with the various girlfriends I’ve had through the years. I was always good enough to f*ck, always good enough to hang out with for a while, but never good enough to stay for.”

“You’re the most eligible bachelor in California.”

“That’s because of the money, not because of me.” He says it so matter-of-factly that I know he believes it’s true. “And then you came along and I fell for you the day I met you. And I wanted to do everything right. Instead, it couldn’t have been more f*cked up if I deliberately tried.

“I kept thinking, if I could just make you love me enough. If I could just make you forget about Brandon and my mother and all the shit that came before—if I could do that, then maybe you would stay. And instead, I just kept driving you away.”

“But I always came back.”

He smiles a little. “Yeah. I don’t know why you did that.”

“Are you kidding me? The most eligible bachelor in California doesn’t know what I see in him?”

“That’s stupid. It’s just a ridiculous title some magazine thought up—”

“Maybe. But it’s also true.”

He shakes his head like he wants to be talking about anything but that article, anything but that title. “Chloe, I’m sorry. I f*cked up.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“I don’t know what else there is to say—”

“There’s not much else to say, is there? You did f*ck up, royally.”

He looks shattered at the admission, broken all to hell and back. I know what that feels like—God, do I ever—and my conscience kicks in. Because he isn’t the only one who made mistakes here and he isn’t the only one who needs to make amends.

“You f*cked up and I gave up. I walked away when I told you I wouldn’t do that again.”

“You had every right to walk away,” he tells me. “I don’t blame y—”

“Yeah, well, I blame myself. You hurt me, badly.”

“I know. I wish I could take it back, Chloe. I wish I could take it all back, baby. I love you so much it makes me stupid and afraid and weak. I love you so, was so desperate to keep you, that I ended up driving you away. I hurt you and that is something I never wanted to do, something I will regret for the rest of my life.”
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It’s everything I wanted to hear, everything I needed to hear. Combined with the bracelet, and with the promise shining from his storm-tossed eyes, it’s more than enough for me. Except … it’s not enough. Not for him. Not from me.

Ethan has done his mea culpa, beautifully. He’s let me inside himself for the first time, shown me pieces of him that I didn’t even know existed.

From the moment I first met Ethan, he’s been so sure of himself, so confident, so absolutely perfect, that I’ve never imagined him as anything else. Never imagined that he could screw up this badly.

To the rest of the world, Ethan Frost is this perfect, unattainable, superhero of a man, who can leap buildings in a single bound and save the world from whatever threatens it. But here, now, in front of me? He’s just a man. Humble, beaten, terrified that he screwed up so badly that he can’t fix it.

And I love him for it. I love him for his vulnerability, which caused this whole mess, and I love him for his strength, which is going to fix it. But only if I’m strong enough to meet him half way.

And I am. Oh, God, I am. Because life without Ethan isn’t worth living. He’s my addiction, my obsession, my love. And I am his. As long as I remember that, somehow I know that everything is going to be okay.