Addicted(44)

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what do you think the end game looks like? I’m going to tell you about the rape, you’re going to tell me about your brother and how you didn’t know. I’m going to tell you about how freaked out I am that he’s related to you and that if we make a go of this, he will always be on the periphery of my life in some capacity or another. You’ll reassure me that that isn’t the case … Do I really need to go on or have I covered everything?”

Ethan’s standing now, too, though he is beautifully, gloriously naked. “Is that really how you think this discussion is going to go down?” he demands.

“Isn’t it?”

“No. Of course not. It’s—” He breaks off when he sees the expression on my face. “Okay, fine. Maybe it will sound something like that.”

“Of course it will. That’s how discussions like these go. And I don’t want to do that. We just got back together.” I pause, clutching the sheet more tightly around me as a horrifying thought strikes me. “We are back together, aren’t we?”

His face goes from determined to thunderous in a moment. “The fact that you even have to ask that is proof of just how much we have to talk about.”

“But why? If we’re together, let’s just be together for a while. The past doesn’t matter. Let’s just enjoy what we’ve got now.”

“Enjoy what we’ve got? You make it sound like this is a temporary thing for you.”

I flush at the accusation in his tone, and the small voice inside of me that’s whispering that he’s right. That I do sound like this is temporary. Even worse, that I believe it is. “I didn’t say that, Ethan.”

“You didn’t have to say it, Chloe. Don’t worry about the past, don’t worry about the future. Just concentrate on the present. Isn’t that what you’re saying? I mean, who thinks like that? Not people who want to build a future together, that’s for sure.”

“Because that’s the only way we can have a future together!” I shout at him as I lose my tenuous hold on control. “Can’t you see that?”

“What I see is that the woman I love is working herself into a frenzy and I don’t know why. I’m trying to tell you that I love you, that I want to be with you. That we’ll find a way to get through the past together. I don’t want to hurt you, baby—”

“But you’re going to!” The words are out before I even realize I’m going to say them.

Ethan freezes, his blue eyes darkening to nearly black as the accusation slams through him. And then he’s crossing to me, trying to take me in his arms. But I don’t want him to touch me now, don’t want anything from him as all the pain and damage of the past comes flooding back.

I shove at him, push him away, stumble backward in my urgency to get away. Except my heel catches in the sheets and I go down hard, on the hard maplewood floor.

“Shit.” He’s beside me in an instant, picking me up and gathering me into his arms. Then we’re sitting on the bed, with me on his lap and my head tucked underneath his chin as he rocks me back and forth soothingly.

“I’m sorry,” he says after long minutes have passed. “I’m sorry that I hurt you and I’m sorry that you think I’m going to hurt you again—”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“I think it is. And you have every right to feel that way. To be afraid of me and what’s between us.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Ethan.”

“Chloe—”

“I’m not.” I lean back so he can see my eyes, judge my sincerity. “I swear. It’s not you I’m afraid of. It’s the past.”

His face clouds over and he starts to speak, but I put two fingers on his lips to silence him. “I know they say that the past isn’t supposed to be able to hurt you unless you let it, but that’s bullshit. I mean, think about it. Even people with normal pasts are affected by them, people who have parents or spouses or children die. That hurts them years later, whether they want it to or not.”

Ethan closes his eyes, at that, bows his head, and for a second I’m confused at his reaction—until I remember his father, the special ops military man who died in combat when Ethan was just a child.

“Shit,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him close. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.” It seems like we’re destined to always pick at each other’s weak spots.