I put a strike through it and then sit and stare for seconds, minutes—hours, maybe, who knows? It doesn’t look right. It doesn’t feel right. I shouldn’t be crossing off sleeping with my own boyfriend. It’s far too personal, too intimate. The only list Ethan belongs on is my own. I fold it up and place it back in its spot, making a mental note that once The Grand Canyon and Vegas are crossed off, the list is done. I refuse to cross off anything else having to do with Ethan.
I look at the picture of Em and me that’s sitting in a frame on my desk. I pick it up and touch the image. “Sorry Em,” I whisper into the empty room. “You're going to have to haunt my ass, I can’t cross off Ethan on your list, but I’ll cross everything else for you. Please don’t be mad. I miss you.” I replace the picture and lie across my bed. The last twenty-four hours have been intense and I feel completely drained, physically and mentally. I smile to myself thinking I wouldn’t change it. Not one single thing.
I’M RUNNING LATE to collect Blair, a group of us are meeting at the movie theatre and I told her I’d be there to pick her up five minutes ago. I shrug into my jacket and grab my keys from the counter.
“I’m going out, Mom, I have a key if you wanna lock up!” I shout as I’m almost out the door. I hear her shouting for me to wait and then she rushes to the hall flustered as I look down at my phone to check the time again.
“I’m late, Mom, what is it?”
An expression passes over her face that I can’t read. “Ethan, I really need to talk to you.” Her voice shakes as she says it.
“Can we talk after—”
“No, this can’t wait, I’ve been putting it off long enough and I want to speak with you before your father gets home.” She turns and walks back into the kitchen and I follow. Whatever it is that she wants to tell me can’t be good; she looks as though she wants to throw up and my mind suddenly starts racing with all the terrible things she could potentially be about to tell me.
She sits at the table and I take the seat opposite, the air around us thickening with tension with every passing second. I have a really bad feeling about this; I almost don’t want to ask but I do anyway.
“So, what is it you need to talk to me about?”
She places her clasped hands out in front of her on the table and I notice they’re trembling. Shit.
“Honey…I need you to just remember that what I’m about to tell you, I did for your own good. At least that’s what I thought I was doing.” She pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. I’m officially now freaking the fuck out. I’m waiting for her to tell me she’s dying or something.
Her eyes glaze over with unshed tears and I’m holding my breath waiting for the news.
“Fuck, Mom, what is it? You're scaring me now!”
She takes a breath and regains her composure; sitting straight in her chair and looking me square in the eyes.
“Ethan honey, I’m not your mother.”
I don’t know if I’ve heard her wrong or if she’s muddled her words but they make no fucking sense. She can see my obvious confusion and takes it as her cue to clarify.
“I met your father when you were seven months old, your Mom—his fiancé at the time—died of a brain hemorrhage when she was in labor with you.”
I’m still holding my breath and my lungs start to burn, the sensation reminds me to breathe. My head’s swimming with the revelation and I feel dizzy and disorientated.
I stand and move away from the table to try and regain my equilibrium; the sudden movement makes my head feel worse. My step falters and I rest myself against the island and try to take a few deep breaths. Mom, or at least the woman I’ve been calling Mom my whole fucking existence, swiftly jumps up and reaches out to steady me.
“Don’t!” I bite out and sit back down at the table. I don’t want her to touch me, her feeble attempt at comfort. I just want the truth.
“This is bullshit! Why are you telling me this now?”
“Ethan, I’ve loved you from the very first second I set my eyes on you. I started dating your father while he was struggling to look after you by himself with no help. He was a mess. He’d just lost the woman he was going to marry and gained a baby he knew absolutely nothing about how to handle. We were married just before your first birthday and my parents said I was mad. They didn’t approve of our relationship. My mother told me he was only marrying me to offload you, and well, that was that. They made it perfectly clear that they didn’t want anything to do with my new family or me so I broke all contact with them. I married your dad and started raising you as my own.” Her tears are running silently down her face as she’s confessing that my life to date has been nothing but one huge lie.
“He wasn’t always so angry and bitter, you know. There was a time when we were all happy, for a short while at least.”