The Only Choice (The Choices Trilogy #3) (2 page)

“If I said yes would you believe me?” I sigh and give the faintest of smiles.

He lets out a loud short laugh and with it some of the tangible tension. “Um no I don’t think I would.” He places his hand gently on my knee and gives a sort of mix between a pat and a comforting squeeze. He waits for me to say something.

I take a deep breath. I’ve woken him and his date up, the least he deserves is an explanation. I just know I will have to keep it brief or I will break all over again. “I had a nightmare, I get them sometimes.” He raises a brow as if stating the bloody obvious wasn’t quite what he meant so I continue. “Daniel left me. I’m no longer engaged.” I rush the words like pulling a band aid but it really doesn’t stop the pain it just makes it sharp and instant. “But I can’t . . .” I draw in a breath that’s already starting to break and Ethan quickly sits beside me and wraps his long arm across my shoulders. I shake my head to try and physically stop the thoughts from entering my brain.

“It’s Ok sweetheart . . . you don’t have to . . . It’s all right . . . you’re going to be all right.” He pulls me into his chest and kisses my head and that just about breaks the very finest thread I was hanging on by and I fall, crash and burn. Long uncomfortable minutes pass with me barely drawing enough breath to maintain the out pouring of gut wrenching sobs. My eyes are raw and I just want to disappear right about now it hurts so fucking much. “Ah Shit Bethany, what can I do? Please tell me something I can do? You’re breaking my heart like this, please sweetheart, stop crying, shhh, come on sweetheart. I know it’s clichéd but he is not fucking worth this.” His fingers are stroking circles on my arms and he gives comforting squeezes intermittently. After a while, sensing my breathing slowly returning to normal he whispers. “You know Dad’s in construction right? Pretty sure we could hide the body, large holes in the ground, concrete, that sort of thing, just say the word Bets. Hell, you might not even have to say the word the way I’m feeling at this moment.” He grumbles.

This makes me chuckle and I wipe my sore eyes, my cheeks sting from all the tears but his words have made me sit up. I look into his eyes for the first time in many heart wrenching minutes. “I think I mentioned my abhorrence to violence and like you said he’s not worth it.” I feel a painful bite in my chest at these false words but I need to practice my own mask if I am to function like a normal human any time soon. I might as well start now. He flashes a brighter smile at this sentiment. “Tired, emotional and a little unstable at the moment but no need to call in the big guns.” I let out a calming sigh. “I will be fine. I promise. I know I must look like shit but I feel better.” I wriggle and start to stand. “I’m going to freshen up, get some more sleep and I will see you at breakfast.” He frowns and looks suspicious but I return my most convincing smile yet and add. “Thank you by the way. I really appreciate everything and I promise, tomorrow will be a fresh start.” He stands and walks with me to just outside the en-suite and I hold my breath hoping he is buying my Oscar winning act. He bear hugs me and holds longer than is comfortable and my restricted breathing is starting to make me panic but he releases his grip just before I ruin the moment with a frantic cry and gasp for oxygen.

“All right Bets, if you’re sure but if you need anything, call me Ok? You really don’t have to resort to screaming the place down to get me in your room naked.” He winks and with a cheeky smile goes to leave.

I offer my best attempt at a smile. I know its a weak effort but I am happy that Ethan seems to have reverted to his more normal treatment toward me. I relax a little because flirty is so much better than pity. He closes my door and I start to peel my clothes off, walking into the bathroom I turn the shower on full. I feel like a functioning shell but I am determined to function and practice acting skills, if need be. This tragic life turn will not define me, it will not break me and despite every fibre in my body screaming your wrong, I will survive Daniel Stone because he made his choice and it wasn’t me.

I didn’t dare fall back to sleep after my shower. I wouldn’t risk another dream, another nightmare, besides it was only a few hours until dawn. After I had completely packed and tidied my bedroom and bathroom it was nearly light. I had decided to cook breakfast for Ethan and his guest before I take the train back to London. I prepared most of the food but needed bodies before I could cook the eggs because they really don’t fare well in the warming oven. I poured myself a coffee and added lots of milk in lieu of preparing a latte with Ethan’s fancy machine because it makes enough noise to raise the dead. With the sun just peaking over the horizon I can selfishly enjoy the spectacle on my own. I lean on the railing of the balcony, steaming cup in hand and suddenly feel very small. The absolute stunning beauty of the breaking dome of brilliant light where the sun kisses the sea and the sparks of reflective light dance on the rippling waves is spellbinding. The early morning chill vanishes as the creeping morning light races across the land and hits me full in the face. I close my eyes and bask in the gentle warmth, so distracted I don’t hear the door open and only become aware of company when Ethan nudges his arm against mine.

“Hey.” His voice is soft and I look up into his eyes, his brow is furrowed but he thankfully doesn’t look too tired.

“Hey.” I smile but bite my lips together in an attempt to swallow back all my rising embarrassment from last night. “Look I’m so sorry about last night.” I don’t want to rehash everything, new day, new start, so I quickly move the conversation on. “I’ve made breakfast for you and your guest, Full English . . . the works. My smile is brighter than it deserves to be. I lead him back into the kitchen before he can comment although his brows just seem to knit tighter together. “So scramble or fried?” I wave the spatula enthusiastically and turn the gas on.

“Bethany I think we need to—” He snaps his mouth at the same time I hear the light voice from last night cry.

“Oooo something smells good, I do love your. . Oh!” She stumbles to a halt as if she’s hit a glass wall and flashes a scowl at me, narrow eyes and tight lips. She is tiny, masses of tight blonde curls. She is wearing one of Ethan’s t-shirts that is hanging off one shoulder and reaches her knees. Her skin is sporting a permanent tan which I would think has little to do with a spray can and more to do with endless hours on the beach.

The tension I could cut with my spatula and after a few never ending awkward moments I step forward with my hand. “Hi I’m Bethany, Ethan’s sister.” The loud scraping of the kitchen chair across the wooden floor causes us both to stare at Ethan as he growls.

“Not my fucking sister!” He is radiating anger and as I’ve never seen him like this I instantly go into placate and diffuse mode.

“Okaay, you’re right of course . . . not his sister but well, anyway I’m cooking breakfast before I head back to London would you like some, there is plenty?” I have laid the table and its clear there is enough but Ethan grumbles.

“Sky’s just leaving.” Exactly the same time Sky says. “That would be great”

“Okaay,” I sort of wish the ground would swallow me now and judging by the look on Sky’s face she’s wishing that too. I wonder if I look like that when I look at Angel. I silently mock myself, even if I did, it doesn’t bloody work. The scowl is still effective, however, in making me retreat. I turn to face the gas and quietly crack some eggs into a pan; without a preference being expressed, fried eggs it is. Stubbornly refusing to turn round despite the hushed heated exchange on the far side of the lounge I only let out my breath when I finally hear the front door close. I have dished up Ethan’s plate and a little for me, although I can’t face anything on mine right now. Even my normal coffee I’ve ditched in favour of a peppermint tea. Ethan sits beside me as I chase my food around my plate, stacking and hiding in an attempt to make the portion look eaten. He roughly picks up his fork and stabs at his breakfast like it’s going to pay, whatever it’s done it’s definitely going to pay. God he looks pissed and he always looks so chilled I can’t help but feel truly awful that I’m the cause.

I push back from my chair. “I should go.” He grabs my hand before I can leave the table and his eyes are wide with shock.

“No don’t!” His voice is sharp but he quickly shakes his head and adds in a much softer voice. “Please Bethany, don’t go.”

I squeeze his hand. “Ethan, you’ve been so kind and I’ve had the best time, really but I have made you angry and ruined your date and I do have to get back so I think its best—” I smile because I hate this new awkwardness.

He interrupts but turns his hand to hold mine. “I’m not angry with you Bets. I’m angry with me, I’m angry with Daniel, no I’m fucking furious with Daniel. I can’t believe he did this to you, he’s such an arsehole!” His gruff voice is fired through gritted teeth but then he relaxes, “but mostly I’m pissed with myself.” The confusion on my face must be clear because he quietly continues to elaborate. “Look yesterday you were getting married to that guy.” He holds my hand a little tighter as I crumple at the waist and fold like I can again feel that stabbing in my belly. “Sorry, but, well it’s true and now you’re telling me that you’re not. Fuck, I wouldn’t have . . . you were engaged for fuck sake! How could I have known? Fuck! This isn’t me. No, it is me, but . . .” He drags his other hand through his hair and is clearly irritated, angry, frustrated; whichever or maybe all three and again I feel like shit because it’s my fault.

“Ethan, I’m not sure where you are going with this but I don’t judge, I really don’t. You’ve been the best but I can’t see past my own shitty mess right now and that’s going to take everything I’ve got. He was my life Ethan. It was his choice to leave and no, I don’t understand it and yes, it hurts like fuck but I’ll get through this. As much as I might hate him right now . . . I still love him and I know me, so sadly that isn’t going to change anytime soon. It would be unfair on you to tell you different and the last thing I need, however well intended is someone telling me what an arsehole Daniel is. I know he’s an arsehole but I can’t just stop feeling what I feel. I can’t just stop loving him because he chose someone else. It’s killing me that I can’t but I’m not built that way.” I let out a steadying breath that is holding back some rising tears. “I haven’t loved like this in a very long time and I
never
got over that so this isn’t going to be a quick fix but I’m Ok with that. I have a plan and you are part of that but as a friend because right now I really need my friends and one is still on holiday and one has her head in cloud wedding.” I hold his warm gaze, his soft brown eyes crinkle in the corner. His smile is genuine and he lifts my fingers to his lips and kisses gently. The softness of his lips and time he takes makes me wonder whether he heard anything I have just said, well, anything other than him being part of my plan.

“You got it.” He flashes a wide smile and lets my hand go to continue eating. “You sure you can’t take an extra week and hang here, that could be part of the plan?” His words are muffled with the mouthful of food and I shake my head and laugh lightly, yep I can almost hear his mind running over how my plan and his, might fit.

“I’ve emailed work and decided to take a week unpaid holiday,
my
plan,” I emphasise the possessive part, “is to have a chat with Tom. I think Marco may need some space sooner rather than later and I have a bit of clearing out to do which is going to leave my wardrobe a little bare so I might need a loan for a while.” I am trying my hardest to make every step sound positive but every word, every action, every part of my plan effectively severs one more tie with Daniel and my fragile heart is having trouble embracing any part of it.

Ethan stands and fetches his wallet handing me a card while I shake my head furiously. The name on the bank card is mine but it’s definitely not mine. “Dad wanted me to give you this but after we talked the other night I thought you two would probably sort this out next time you caught up. This is yours and I’m pretty sure he won’t consider it a loan.” I am speechless as I stare at the card in my hand. “So are you burning or dumping?”

“Charity shop.” My voice is quiet and I am devastated that I didn’t need him to explain what he meant.

“It’s probably for the best, you don’t want constant reminders.” He puts his fork down and sits back rubbing his flat tummy that isn’t the slightest bit round despite the mountain of food he has consumed.

“No,. .no reminders.” I sigh and close my eyes, the tell-tale prickles rising and pinching behind my nose. I don’t need reminders to feel like this, I just do, but I don’t need to be tracked either.

The train journey was exhausting mostly because I fought my desperate need to sleep the entire six hours. Six hours of dissecting my time with Daniel, my wonderful, life affirming time with the most amazing man who captured my head, my heart and my soul and then broke me into tiny pathetic pieces. My head is filled with broken conversations, gaps in information and misunderstandings. No, not misunderstanding just complete incomprehension. “
I don’t need to check anything . . . I trust her.
” His exact words and yet he can’t see that she is in love with him. Does he really think that wouldn’t be a problem? Perhaps that is insignificant when parried against insurmountable guilt. Maybe his guilt is the only significant thing in this wreckage. He honestly believes he is doing this to save his soul and a chance at redemption he hoped I could understand. He needed me to trust and because I couldn’t, he had no other choice. He didn’t choose her, he just didn’t choose me. Around and around unanswerable questions bombard my every conscious thought. God I feel like my head is going to explode with doubt and devastation. I can’t express how thankful I am as the cab pulls to stop outside my home.

It’s only four in the afternoon but I am so ready for bed I think I might sleep through until the weekend. Climbing the hall stairs I freeze at the top at the view of neatly stacked boxes outside my front door; plain elegant black boxes towering high above my five foot six frame, two deep and three wide. There must be fifty unmarked boxes. My chest pinches tight when I peek inside the top one but I recognised them from the dressing room in Daniels apartment so I already know they would be filled with my clothes. My elderly neighbour opens her door.