Ethan Frome Novels & Stories

CHAPTER 19 - “The Door That Almost Opened” I didn’t answer the voice outside. I knew that voice. I knew the weight behind it. And I knew that if I answered, something in my life would break for good. “Adrian,” the voice called again. Calm. Polite. Patient. “I know you’re in there.” My chest tightened. Ethan stood frozen a few steps away from me. His eyes searched my face, not for orders, but

“Hey, I’m calling about the room for rent? My name’s Ethan.” The voice quickly grabbed my attention; it was soft, polite and he asked actual questions—square footage, utilities, noise policy. We spoke for twenty minutes. By the end of the call, I had a good feeling. He came to see the place the next day. Ethan stepped out of a rideshare wearing a soft cream sweater and skinny jeans, his dark hair falling past his shoulders in carefully layered waves. He was maybe five-six, one-thirty soaking wet, with delicate features and a charming smile.

40. Rachael. The lingering echo of Ethan's departure hung heavy in the air, a silent testament to the unspoken tension that had crackled between us. Long after his shadow had disappeared into the depths of the mansion, I remained rooted to the spot, my gaze fixed on the empty space he had occupied. He had promised me protection, a steadfast presence by my side, yet he had left, summoned away by his father, leaving me alone with the enigmatic Naomi Rutherford. A knot of unease tightened in my stomach.

“Nice taste as usual, Emily.” Emily smiled in satisfaction, fondling her breasts. “Still as good as ever too, Ethan.” He stood up, his cock was dangling between his thighs with the red tip leaking. Without bothering to cover up, he turned towards me, his hands on his hips. Ethan was an unfamiliar and handsome young boy that should be in his early twenties. There was cum all over his chin and lips. His lustful and dark eyes fell on me as he sized me up. “It seems you are no different from your mother, are you? I bet you imagined you were the one getting fucked.”

~Fifteen years later~ “Why is this place so jam-locked?” Ethan Wellman muttered through clenched teeth, his voice carrying the edge of restrained frustration. Tall, broad-shouldered, with jet-black hair that glistened under the streetlights, he looked every bit the man who turned heads without meaning to, but it was his eyes—those deep, warm-ocean eyes that betrayed him. They sparked when he was angry, yet had the uncanny ability to calm whoever met them.

Ethan knocked lightly on the front door, still damp from skimming the pool. He glanced around the huge house that Mrs Malowe lived in all alone. She had no husband, no one at all, and he envied her so much for having such a huge space to herself. Ethan heard footsteps approaching from inside and stiffened. Mrs Malowe was different from other older women her age. She was properly old enough to be his mother, but he had never known anyone as dangerously beautiful as she was. She had such heavy, round breasts that Ethan had imagined touching, suffocating in them. She had a habit of lying outside beside the pool naked while he cleaned, and Ethan was always close to cumming in his shorts every ti

he murmured. I didn’t move, even though every instinct in me screamed to shove him back. His cologne was overwhelming, his breath warm against my skin as he tilted his head just slightly — like he was about to kiss me. “Step away from her.” The voice cut through the rain, low and hoarse and furious. My breath caught in my throat as I whipped around. Ethan was standing at the edge of the path, his hair plastered to his forehead, his shirt clinging to him like he’d come out here in a hurry. His jaw was tight, his grip on his cane looked painful, and his eyes were wild.

Emma asked elder Ethan with a shocked look on her face? Elder Ethan bursted into laughter and answered, “yes Emma, Soon your path will be as swift as the lights from the heavens.” Ethan, a formidable figure with eyes that mirrored the wisdom of countless generations, ran alongside Emma, matching his stride to hers. His voice, a soothing yet commanding presence, carried the weight of centuries. “Emma, my dear pupil, the path of the pack transcends mere physical prowess," he explained, his words imbued with a quiet intensity. "It is a journey that traverses the realms of unity, trust, and embracing the intricate duality that resides within our beings."

He cheerfully greeted Ethan: "Welcome, boss, welcome!" Ethan shook his hand warmly, "Mr.Bennett, I've told you, just call me Ethan. Has Emily been back to see you lately?" "That girl always says she's too busy with work to visit, but she calls often and sends money," Mr.Bennett replied with a reassuring smile, then warmly invited, "Let me take you back." Mr.Bennett's vehicle was a semi-new tractor. Ethan Hart was dressed in this year's trendiest khaki casual wear, looking dapper with his fair complexion. However, sitting atop the tractor, still littered with uncleaned straw and poultry droppings, he resembled a down-on-his-luck nobleman.

She just sat inside, enjoying the peaceful feeling. If only her day had turned out to be this peaceful, just as she had planned from the start of the day. She almost drifted to sleep inside the bathtub, but stopped herself and lazily came out of the bathtub. After putting on her nightgown, she walked to the bed and finally went to sleep. . Ding! Ethan dropped the cup in his hand on the table in front of him and walked towards the door. When he opened the door and saw that it was Max, he walked back to the couch folding his sleeves up and max entered closing the door behind him.