The Lies That Bind(79)

I open another drawer, finding a stash of mementos from London, including Ethan’s business card, the one he gave me in the pub. Under his name, there are two numbers—one for the UK, and the other a 917 cell. Before I can think better of it, I dial the second number. He answers on about the fourth ring, sounding sleepy, his voice quiet.

“Hi. It’s Cecily,” I say. “I’m sorry if I woke you up?”

“No. You didn’t,” he says, sounding unconvincing. “I was just watching a little TV.”

“Are you at Amy’s?”

“No,” he says. “I’m crashing at Rachel’s…here on her couch. What’s up?”

“I don’t know…I just…that was really awkward tonight….We really couldn’t talk.”

“Yeah.”

    “Do you think anyone could tell we already knew each other?”

“No. I really don’t. When we got home, Rachel asked what we were talking about, but I didn’t tell her.”

“Why not?”

“All the obvious reasons…and because I promised Grant I wouldn’t.”

I take a deep breath and say, “Do you feel at all conflicted? Hanging out with Amy…when she doesn’t know…?”

“Not really,” Ethan says. “Amy and I were never that close….I only reached out to her to ask about a service for Grant—and to tell her I was going to be in town. I was sort of surprised when she invited me to dinner….I almost didn’t go.”

“Oh,” I say, thinking that I’m glad he did—and that it’s so nice to talk to him now, privately.

A long pause follows and then he says, “So can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Your fiancé doesn’t know any of this, does he?”

“No.”

“Why haven’t you told him? What are you afraid of?”

“How do you know I’m afraid of anything?” I say.

“It’s always fear that holds us back.”

My mind is a little blown as I realize he’s right—at least in my case he’s right. “I don’t know,” I say. “A lot of things…I’m afraid of upsetting Matthew. I’m afraid of losing him. I’m afraid of my parents knowing that I was having an affair with a married man….I’m afraid of hurting Amy—a widow. And…” I take a deep breath and give him my last reason. “In a weird way, I’m afraid of tainting Grant’s memory…for no reason…when he’s not even here to defend himself.”

“Yeah,” Ethan says, his voice sad. “I get all of that.”

“Do you know that I’m pregnant?” I blurt out. I’m not sure why I’m telling him all of this, other than that he seems kind and trustworthy, and I feel desperate to talk.

    “Yeah. Amy mentioned that before dinner. But I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to know….Anyway…congratulations.”

“Thanks,” I say. “But that’s complicated, too….”

“How?”

I don’t respond.

“Oh, shit,” Ethan says. “Is the baby…Grant’s?”

“I don’t think so. But I’m not positive.”

“Shit,” Ethan says under his breath.

“Exactly. So yeah, I’m scared. I’m terrified,” I say, my voice shaking, as I close my eyes. “I’m sorry….I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this….I barely know you.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “You needed to talk. I get it. And for what it’s worth—I think it’s all going to turn out okay. Matthew seems like a good guy…and Amy…well, she’ll be fine.”

“I don’t plan on telling her any of this,” I say, my way of making the same request of him.

“Oh, I know….I just mean, in general….Amy looks out for Amy….Did you see her getting handsy with that Chad guy?”

“Yeah,” I say, having noticed some pretty heavy flirting at the end of the night, too.

“And she never mentioned Grant. Not once all evening. I mean, seriously?”

This wasn’t lost on me, either, but I don’t want to judge her for it. “I think she just doesn’t want to be a downer. Or maybe she’s still sort of in shock that she’s lost him?” I say, grasping at straws.

“Yeah,” Ethan says. “Maybe. But, let’s face it, you can’t lose something that was never really yours.”





That night I have another vivid dream about Grant. Overcome with sadness, I sit up in bed. I tell myself to get it together—and not be one of those girls who self-sabotages. I have everything I want and need with Matthew. For goodness’ sake, I’m about to be a mother.

But it doesn’t work, and in the next moment, I’m devising a crazy plan to drive up to see Byron. I don’t know that we have that much left to say to each other—but I still feel this urgency to see him, if only because he is the closest thing to seeing Grant. I just want to talk to him, face-to-face, before he’s gone, too. I want to look him in the eye and tell him how I felt about his brother. I want to tell him that I forgive his brother for lying to me. And even though I know it’s so wrong, I also want to ask for something of Grant’s—something small, like a book or a photo—just in case the baby turns out to be his after all.