Freshwater(38)

“My girlfriend and I broke up,” he told her. “It had nothing to do with you. But you told me not to come back unless I was single and ready to fight for you, and I am.”

I had no chance against that kind of declaration, and when I saw the amount of joy having Ewan back brought to Ada, I didn’t even want to try. I’m cruel, yes, but I’m not that cruel. She was happy and he was different. I could tell because I didn’t like this version of him. Back in Virginia, Ada never even had his phone number, but this time, Ewan was calling her every night. He couldn’t sleep without hearing her voice, he told his mother about her, and when Ada was struggling with her classes, he stayed on the phone with her and told her how much he believed in her.

“He’s rebounding,” I told her. “Just wait.”

“I know,” Ada said, but she was in love with him. All I could do was watch.

Ewan told her about the holidays before he and the girlfriend split, when he would go back to Ireland and show all his friends Ada’s pictures on Facebook. “I told them if I wasn’t with my ex, I would marry this girl in a heartbeat.”

Ada spoke to him every day and it was all fresh and new and pretty. It made her happy. One night, Ewan asked what the worst thing he ever did to her was, and Ada winced at the memory but she told him anyway, about the last time they slept together in Virginia.

“I told you I loved you,” she said. “You told me to shut the fuck up.”

I was surprised to hear her say that—I thought I had been the one who said it, not her. Maybe we were blurring more than I realized.

“It was really shitty,” she was saying. “It made me feel …” She paused. Was there a word to describe that particular humiliation?

On the other end of the phone line, Ewan spoke into the silence. “I made you feel cheap,” he said, and then he started crying. “That was all you ever asked me for—to never lie to you and never make you feel cheap. I’m so sorry, Ada.”

I listened in amazement as he apologized for all the things he’d done to her. Ada listened with me, equally surprised.

“Maybe it’s not such a bad idea to love him again,” I said to her. “That’s if you want.”

Ada tilted her head and listened to him thoughtfully. “Actually,” she said, “I’m not sure.”

She kept considering, weighing this new Ewan, and along the way, he told her that he too had a private relationship with Yshwa. I rolled my eyes at this, but I knew it mattered to Ada, to be with someone who loved Yshwa like she did. That November, Ada flew back to that little Texas border town to spend Thanksgiving with Ewan.

He was claiming that he’d loved her for a long time, but I knew Ewan. He would never have left the security of his old relationship if he hadn’t known Ada’s wild love would catch him. It was fine, it was human. No wahala. Besides, he did love her, perhaps with even more abandon than she loved him because, as he had predicted, she changed his life. There was no need to pretend with her because Ada already knew who he was at his worst, so instead Ewan tried to show her who he could be at his best. I kept waiting for his cruel hands, the version of him that I knew and loved, but all he gave Ada was gentleness.

The first time she climbed into bed with this new Ewan, Ada reached for me as usual, but for the first time since I had thundered through a window to rescue her, I wasn’t there. I didn’t come.

Ewan thrust inside her while Ada held back tears, panic screaming inside her stomach because it wasn’t supposed to be like that, not with him, not with the one she loved who loved her. After he came, Ada started crying.

“What’s wrong?” said Ewan, naked and frantic, holding her as she wept. “What happened?”

“They’re not bad tears,” she said, to calm him. “I’ve never had sex without a mask on before. There’s always this other hard layer on top of the real me.” Ada felt crazy trying to describe me and Ewan just held her tighter.

“You don’t need a mask,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you anymore.”

But she was wrong—they were bad tears, they were a panic attack that threw her back into the marble. Inside her head was the only real safety. Ewan was just a stranger to us. Vincent placed his hand on the center of Ada’s back as the panic took over her chest.

“Breathe,” he said.

I stood by, horrified, watching as she wept. She looked up at me, her eyes reddened.

“Where were you?” she gasped, splintering under Vincent’s hand, pieces of her crawling on the floor. “Why did you leave me? You said you would never leave me! I was alone!”

I continued watching her and all I could think was that I was so afraid, and I had never been afraid before. “I couldn’t find you,” I whispered. “I didn’t know where you were, Ada, I swear. I couldn’t get to you.”

She sobbed against the marble and my heart broke.

“Maybe because it was him?” I was guessing. “Maybe you didn’t even know when you sent me away, but I swear, I didn’t know how to find you.” The guilt was too much. One simple promise—you will never have to feel them move in you. I will be there. I will be the one they push into because they cannot hurt me.

And now Ada had gone and fallen in love with a man who had the power to send me away. He was going to destroy her.