“Do you?” It was an honest question and not the first time he’d asked me about my feelings, how uncertain I was. Next would come Ransom’s name. It always did and Ethan, bless him, would ask if I still loved him, if I needed more time. I would. Somehow, though I went to great lengths to convince myself otherwise, I knew I always would.
Ransom’s name had come up often. Especially during that first month when Ethan was courting me, sending me roses, taking me to dinner—when a stupid Sports Illustrated interview Ransom gave, the one that mentioned how happy he was being a bachelor in Miami, loving the life he led, had me desperate to forget the promises he clearly hadn’t meant. Ethan was a fan. That much was evident from all the times Kona and Keira came to the studio for Mack and Ethan went a little dumb. But he was also determined to help me forget Ransom. He’d been so patient with me. He continued to be so, but the heated gaze in his eyes began to fade when I kept silent. It worried me, added to my confusion. Ethan knew I didn’t love him, but I had promised to be open to the possibility of forever with him. A forever that kept me from pining over Ransom.
“Is this…well, he was there tonight. He saw you say yes.”
“It’s not…” I didn’t bother lying. Moving my head down, I rested it on his shoulder, loving the smell of his skin, how warm and comforting Ethan felt. Maybe I didn’t love him, but that didn’t mean I never would. Some good marriages have started with less than that.
“Do you want to take it back?”
“Ethan…”
“Sir? Your car,” the valet said, interrupting the moment with hand on the door, ushering us through it.
The silence kept, the mood a bit more somber than it should have been for a newly engaged couple. But Ethan guided me out of the door, settled me inside his Mercedes and kept to that silence as he drove away from the restaurant.
I felt heartless, cruel.
The car shifted, flying down Canal to the emptying N. St. Peters Street, toward, I assumed, my small condo on Elysian Fields. He drove beyond the blinking lights announcing traffic construction until he finally slowed, throwing on his blinker and in the six-minute silent car ride we ended at his Jax Brewery condo.
There was no need to comment on why he didn’t take me home. Normally, we were a handful of blocks from each other. Normally, we never drove to see each other at all, but the recital had been uptown and the weather had cooled considerably, warranting his Mercedes and me being at his mercy unless I wanted to walk home in the windy weather. There was a discussion he wanted and activity I knew he hoped I’d agree to. I wasn’t sure how I felt about either.
He sat still, quiet in his parking spot with the Mississippi past the Riverwalk, but did not speak. The only movement that Ethan made was to shift his gaze straight out toward the river and lean his elbow against the door.
“That look you gave him, it made me wonder.”
“That’s not…you don’t know…”
“I can feel it.”
He wouldn’t look at me. Choosing, instead that constant gawk at the slow moving river and the flickering activity of people leaning against the railing. But Ethan didn’t seem angry. The smooth hold of his features weren’t tight with anger or wrinkled with worry. There was little in the way of any emotion at all on his face and I wasn’t sure what that meant. For all my complaints that he hadn’t figured out my moods by the expressions I let him see, I didn’t know how to read him either.
Finally, when Ethan’s attention seemed perpetually unmoving I shifted to my side, watching his profile, taking just a second to appreciate the cut of his jaw and the long, straight slant of his nose.
“He was my first love.” I kept my voice soft, like a whisper I almost wished he couldn’t hear. “His family…they’re still…”
“I know how much they mean to you, baby.” When he looked at me and took my hands between his long fingers I felt some of the awkward tension eke away. But Ethan wouldn’t smile, not yet. He wouldn’t give me any indication of his anger or ambivalence. “Did I interrupt something tonight?” He asked that question with his attention on that ring. Our engagement ring. It felt like deadweight until he glanced at me, mouth easing into a grin. “Between the two of you?”