Chapter 5: The Aftershocks

The following day of the dinner party felt bleak, too bleak. The mansion stood as an empty reminder of how it once had been; it was me and my thoughts, with hardly a wisp of lilies still wafting through the air from last evening. I sat at the kitchen counter, clutching a steaming cup of tea within my grasp as my thoughts replayed every second of last night and before.

Ethan had been maddeningly vague, as usual. A brief flicker of something, warmth maybe? Yearning? But it vanished in effect the very moment it had existed, and I was left grasping at thin air. I recalled the way his hand lay across my back, fingers merely grazing my skin as we greeted the guests. For a second, it seemed like we were in a perfect world where he was mine. But then came his cold, clipped words after everyone left, slicing through whatever fragile connection we’d formed.

Why couldn’t he just let me in?

I breathed out and put the cup down, and then I stood up to clear my head. I went into the library, the scent of old books and leather always had a way of grounding me but today even it was unable to calm the pain in my chest. I ran my hand over the spines of the books, but that was not working for me either tonight.

The noise behind me made me stop in my tracks. I swung around, and there he was, Ethan slumped against the doorway with hands deep within his pockets. His shirt was open at the top, the sleeves rolled up a couple of times to expose muscular, sun-kissed forearms. His dark hair was as messy as a bed, as if he'd run his fingers through it in irritation.

"Good morning," he rumbled, deep and rasping.

"Morning," I said, my tone cautious. It was a joke, because it was virtually impossible to be cautious with him the way those icy grey eyes sliced into me every time he looked at me.

He moved into the room with careful steps, and a sense of awkward weight hung between us. "You're up so early."

"I couldn't sleep," I said. "There's a lot weighing on my mind."

"Much? You mean the party?" He arched an eyebrow, his face screwing up into a less-than-happy grin.

"Amongst other things." I played it cool with a book on the shelf. I didn't want him to see how much his indifference hurt me. "It was fine, I think. Everyone seemed to be impressed."

He didn't say anything at first but few seconds later, I felt his body behind me more closely than before. When I turned to glance at him, he moved back a bit with his eyes digging deep into my soul.

"You did okay," he whispered with reluctance coloring his tone.

I was taken aback, his low tones surprised me and mainly because of the compliment that I had received. It was minor but to me, anything coming from Ethan was significant. "Thank you," I replied to him, my eyes focusing on my feet.

We both didn't say a word for a moment. Between us was such tension it seemed to vibrate with electricity, hissing, and I could feel how close he was. The scent of cedar and something darker, something sweeter, unique as him, filled my nostrils, and my heart thudded.

"Lila," he said softly.

"Yes?"

He leaned in towards me, and for an instance, I thought he was going to touch me, kiss me and claim me as his. And from the look on his face, he really wanted to, his hand hovered by my cheek, his fingers uncurling, before snapping back and clenching.

"Never mind," he snarled, stepping back from me.

My anger overflowed. The stringing along, then cutting. "Why are you like this, Ethan?" I asked in pain and anger. "Like how?" he asked frostily. "You act like you care for a second, then all of a sudden you cut me off" His jaw snapped as he would not even glance at me. "It's not that simple, Lila."

"Then simplify it, make it simple," I said to him, another step in his direction. "Talk to me. Let me in. Or is that too much to ask for?"

He looked at me once more, and for a moment the mask he never let slip wavered. Something raw and naked flashed in his eyes, and my heart soared at it. But it vanished immediately, regained to that locked-up impenetrable wall I had learned so well.

"You wouldn't understand," he said curtly.

"Try me," I dared, my voice trembling.

He looked at me for a long time, and I thought, hoped he would find his ease and drop his guard. But he shook his head and walked away from the library, leaving me standing there with a pounding heart and watery eyes brimming with unshed tears.

The rest of the day was a blur, the rest of it spent cleaning up and tidying away frantically after the dinner party with the house staff in the hopes that this would take my mind off the ache in my chest. My own mind, though, could not quite dispel the image of Ethan, the way he looked at me, the way he seemed to reach out to me.

That night, I went out to the garden, sitting on a stone bench under the oak tree. The cold night air surrounded me, and I brought my arms around myself, trying to shield myself from the cold.

"Lila."

My head turned towards the direction of the voice, and I saw Ethan standing a few feet away. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets. He actually looked very nervous this time, like he did not know if he should walk up to me.

"What are you doing here?" He whispered

"Thinking," I whispered softly.

He nodded and moved towards me, his eyes flashing deep into mine. "About what?"

About us," I replied, my own heart beating hard in my chest. "About whether this marriage could ever work out."

He did not respond, but I could see the muscle twitch in his jaw. He stepped closer, and I felt the heat rolling off of him.

"You're not alone, I think about it too," he said, his low, gravelly voice like ice.

My breath caught. "Then why do you always push me away?"

He did not answer, but his eyes flashed black, and for one tense moment of stifled suspense, I again thought he was going to kiss me. My heart pounded in my chest as he moved closer, his fingers brushing past mine in a shaft of strength.

He took off his jacket and put it around me. “I don’t want you catching a cold.” He said, his hands moved from the jacket to my exposed neck, stroking it slowly, then he pulled back, his face closed off. "Goodnight, Lila," he said, and walked away.

The next morning, I was determined that I would not be sucked in by Ethan’s games. Instead, I would do everything within my power to win him over and make this marriage work.

When Ethan came down for breakfast. I was already downstairs, having a cup of tea. I looked up at him, and immediately my heart flipped at the view of him in his suit, fitted to perfection.

"Good morning," I said, flashing a smile.

"Morning," he said, short.

I set my cup on the counter and took in a deep breath. "I wanted to let you know that I'm going to stay at my parents’ for a few days."

He halted mid-step; his eyes crinkled a fraction. "Why?"

"I need some time," I said, meeting his eyes. "Time to think, to get my head together."

His jaw tightened, but he said nothing for a while, when he finally talked, it was to say. "Do what you have to."

I nodded, trying to mask the pain of hurt his indifference had caused. I sighed and said softly. "Thank you."

As I walked towards, I could feel his eyes on me, and for a moment I turned around to face him, thinking he would speak and ask me to stay. But he did not.

With that, I turned around and strode away, my heart weighing and my head racing with all the questions that would have to go unspoken.

What was Ethan keeping from me? And more significantly, why did I have this constant feeling that no matter how much I pushed, Ethan would probably not love me as much as I love him.

I had no answers but I was resolved in finding them out, even if setting my heart open to be torn apart would be the price of that knowledge.