Broken Juliet(81)

“But—”

“No, this is not up for discussion. You’ve been given an amazing opportunity, and I’m not going to let you sabotage it because of me. No f*cking way. You tell Erika you’re taking it, or I will.”

He slams his book closed and shoves it in his bag.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“But what about our Arts in Society final?”

“I’ll study by myself.”

“Why are you so angry with me?”

He slings his bag over his shoulder and turns to me. “I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with me. Angry that you think you need to sacrifice your career for me.”

“Ethan—”

“No, Cassie, this is f*cking crazy. This isn’t love. It’s fear. You’re afraid of my reaction, and you’re letting it rule your judgment. What the hell am I doing to you?”

“You’re not doing anything! Sometimes to make things work, you have to make compromises.”

“This isn’t a compromise! This is you giving up your dream for me, and it pisses me off that you think you have to. That I’ve made you think that.”

“You haven’t, I just—”

“Please stop. I’ve tried really f*cking hard to just breathe through this thing with Connor, but I can’t, and you know it. But this? It isn’t the solution.”

“Then what is? Is there one? Because you’re really starting to worry me here.”

His expression softens, but he doesn’t reassure me. I don’t know if he can at this point.

“I have to go.”

“Wait.”

He stops, one hand on the door. I go to him and make him look at me. He does it grudgingly.

“I love you.” I stand on my toes to kiss him. He inhales and wraps an arm around me, and even though he kisses me back, it doesn’t last long. When he pulls away, his hand is still on the doorknob.

“I love you, too,” he says as he cups my cheek. “That’s the problem.”

He pulls open the door and heads down to his car. I watch him until he’s out of sight.



Present Day

New York City, New York

Graumann Theater

When I arrive at the theater, I dump my bag in my dressing room and go to find Ethan. He’s been helping me with some meditation techniques, and even though I’m not very good at them, he’s a patient teacher.

Of course, Tristan lost his shit when he found out about it. Well, to be honest, he rarely loses his shit, but he did go quiet for a long time and stare at me in a hostile manner.

He’s been trying to get me to meditate since the night we met, and I’ve always dismissed it as a waste of time. Needless to say, Ethan and I aren’t the most popular people in his book right now.

I go to Ethan’s dressing room, but he’s not there. His voice is echoing somewhere in the theater, so I follow the sound.

When I get backstage, I see him talking on his phone and pacing.

“I don’t know about this. I mean, the show’s only been open a month. We’re barely getting on our feet. Yes, I know it’s a fantastic opportunity but…” He scrubs his face and sighs. “I am listening to you. I get that. And no, this has nothing to do with Cassie. I just … I don’t know if the time is right for this.”

On hearing my name, I slink back into the shadows.

He finishes the conversation by saying, “I’ll think about it,” and I quietly slip back into his dressing room as he hangs up.

When he appears a minute later, he seems surprised to see me.

“Oh, hey.”

“Hi. You okay?”

“Yeah. Good.” He puts his phone on the counter and sits on the floor. “Ready?”

“Sure.”

He hardly looks at me. We go through the routine of our meditation, but it’s obvious his mind is somewhere else.

My meditation is crap. My breathing is choppy, and all I can do is wonder what the hell that conversation was about and why he’s hiding it from me.

We finish our cycle and when I open my eyes, I get the impression he’s been staring at me the whole time.

“You want to snuggle?” he asks quietly.

I stand and shake my head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Everything alright?”

“Yep.” I can feel all the parts of me that have recently started opening up begin to wilt under the weight of whatever’s going on with him. I’ve been getting better at trusting this new him, but now … the doubt is back.

“Cassie…”

“I’m fine. I just have some stuff to do.”

He grabs my hand. “Wait. What’s going on?”

I shake my head. I’m incapable of confronting him, because I’m terrified of what he’ll say. “Nothing. I just don’t feel like snuggling tonight.”

I pull my hand free and walk out. I need to get away from him.

I can’t even comprehend what I’d do if things went wrong again.





CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE


SINK OR SWIM


Three Years Earlier

Westchester, New York

The Grove


I feel like a submarine.