Chapter 31

ISABELLA’S POV

 

My head is a slow, insistent drumbeat before I even open my eyes.

I wake up to a dry mouth and a dull ache behind my eyes. For a few seconds I don't know where I am. Then the familiar ceiling of my own bedroom comes into focus. I look down on my body to see that I am still wearing my black dress, though it is twisted around my waist. My shoes are gone, and my face feels clean.

 

How did I get here...I try to search my memories but the answer only comes in pieces. From the club, to the drinks, I can remeber dancing with Sofia, where is she? Simultaneously I remember a strong hands lifting me up. At the same I can hear Ethan’s voice, sitting in his car, his mouth on mine, my hands under his shirt. I eventually pull him down to my level. But he stopped me.

 

Heat crawls up my neck. Embrassed I sit up too quickly and the room suddenly tilts. I press the heel of my hand against my forehead and wait for it to settle. There is a glass of water and an empty electrolyte packet on the nightstand. He must have left them there.

 

I hate that he saw me like that.

I don't know which fact humiliates me more. That I tried. Or that he didn't.

I force myself out of bed, strip off my dress, and stand under a hot shower until the worst of the fog lifts. When I look in the mirror afterward, my eyes are tired and my expression is tight. I get dressed in free clothes,  jeans, a soft sweater and try to put the night back in a box where it belongs. It does not fit.

 

My phone shows two messages from Sofia checking that I got home, but nothing from Ethan. I stare at the screen for a moment, then send him a short text.

 

I’ll come for the children at eleven.

 

He replies within minutes.

 

They’ll be ready.

 

Thankfully he didn't ask any questions, or make comments about the night. But his restraint is almost worse than if he had said something.

ETHAN’S POV

Liam is awake at half past seven, already playing and talking Lila's ear off. I make breakfast while they negotiate among themselves. I prepare some scrambled eggs, and toast. I also cut the fruit into small pieces I have learned they prefer it this way. Lila as usually insists on feeding her toy a piece of banana first. 

 

At the end I was able to keep their morning steady. There is no reason for them to feel the irregularity of the previous night. By the time Isabella’s message arrives, both children are washed, dressed, and occupied with a short cartoon.

 

I look at her text longer than necessary. The memory of her mouth and her hands and the small frustrated sound she made when I pulled away feels too close to my skin. I put my phone down and finish packing the small bag she sent with them.

 

At five to eleven the intercom sounds. I gather the children to the door.

 

ISABELLA’S POV

Ethan opens the door with Lila and Liam behind him. The sight of the three of them together makes me feel a certain way I don't want to talk about.

Lila abandons her spot on the stool the second she sees me, and I crouch to catch her, burying my face in her hair for longer than the hug requires, using her as a shield against having to look at him again so soon.

"You look terrible," Liam informs me, with his always blunt generosity.

"Thank you, baby."

“We made a garage. It’s strong. Ethan said the cushions need to be heavier next time.”

 

“It sounds like a good design,” I say. My voice comes out normal. I am grateful for that.

 

Ethan hands me the bag. Looking at him, he looks well rested, but there is a tightness around his eyes that was not there before.

 

“They ate at eight,” he says. “Lila has been asking for you since she woke up. Liam wants to bring his other truck back next time to test his new ramp.”

 

“Next time is next weekend,” I answer. “I’ll inform you on the day.”

 

He nods in agreement, but the silence that follows is thick. I should leave but my legs can't move so I stand there with my daughter in my arms and my son standing between us.  Surrounded by the memory of the night before.

 

“Thank you for getting me home,” I say finally.

 

“You were in no condition to get yourself home. I didn't want you to be harmed”

 

The words are neutral but undercurrent is not. I meet his eyes and see the same awareness there that I am trying to ignore.

 

“I should go.”

 

“Yes.”

 

I shift Lila higher on my hip and hold out my hand for Liam. He takes it without argument. Ethan remains in the doorway while we walk to the car. I buckle both children in, close the door, and allow myself one glance back. He is still standing there looking at us so I hurriedly look away first.

 

ETHAN’S POV

 

I close the door and the penthouse returns to its usual silence.

The cushion garage remains half-built in the living room. A small sock Lila discarded near the couch is the only other evidence they were here.

 

I pick up the sock, set it on the counter. This morning was ordinary. The children were fine. The drop-off was even civil. But none of that erases the fact that six hours earlier Isabella had been kissing me like she was starving and I had pinned her wrists to the mattress to stop her.

 

I made the correct decision. I also made a decision that left both of us awake and unsettled. The proof of it was in her face at the door, the mix of embarrassment, residual heat, and determination to act as if nothing had shifted. Especially as she won't look at me directly. I noticed it the second she walked in.

 

I pour a glass of water to drink, I need to patch my dry throat. I am simply putting myself in trouble thinking about last night.

 

After drinking I set the glass down and start clearing the cushion garage. Suddenly the apartment feels larger than it did an hour ago. Also emptier too.