***
The crowd slowly thins as the sun dips lower, streaking the sky with pink and gold. Guests trickle out in pairs and clusters, their laughter fading towards the front door.
I drift back to the living room, scanning the remaining guests. Ethan is standing near one of the large windows talking to an older couple. Our eyes meet once again, and for the millionth time today, my pulse reacts. I’m beginning to worry that I might leave this party with a permanent heart condition.
Despite the dwindling crowd, the air in the room feels thicker than ever. Every minute that passes, it seems to pull a bit tighter around us.
I’m talking to Emma’s dad’s girlfriend and a woman named Doris about cannoli when Ethan interrupts.
He gives the two women a quick, polite greeting then turns to me, his voice low. “Want to step outside for a bit?”
I nod gently, hoping a don’t seem too eager, and excuse myself. My heart jackhammers, uneven and wild.
Yep, cardiac arrythmia, here I come.
We slip out the back door into the cool evening air. The backyard is enormous, every hedge and flowerbed perfectly manicured. Twinkling lights hang in neat rows overhead, presumably strung up for the special occasion. We’re the only ones outside now, but relics of the party linger in the form of abandoned cups and plates.
Ethan leads us toward a quiet corner, where a small bench sits beneath a tree. We sit, leaving a careful space between us. Silence stretches out, taut and fragile. It feels like it might shatter around us if either of us says the wrong thing. So we both shift, fidget, and clear our throats.
“So, you wanted to talk?” Ethan eventually says, glancing over at me.
I nod carefully, as if any sudden movement might painfully dislodge the words that are stuck in my throat.
Ethan waits patiently, his eyes searching mine. The intensity of his stare forces me to look away, and I avert my eyes to the small section of bench between us.
“I just want to say that I know I didn’t handle things very well. I ran off without giving you a chance to explain. I was just feeling so blindsided and foolish and hurt over the whole situation. Running away from it felt like the only option at that moment, but I realize now that it wasn’t very fair of me. I owe you an apology for that.”
His brow furrows. “No, Margot, you don’t. Your reaction was completely justified. I’m the one who owes you an apology. It’s entirely my fault. I’m the one who fucked everything up between us.”
There’s really no arguing with that point.
“True.” The word comes out with a laugh so thin and wispy that I barely recognize it as my own.
Ethan’s mouth quirks at the corner, like he’s trying to laugh along but can’t manage to even fake it. He reached up, running a hand through his hair. “Do you think that you’re ready to hear my side of the story now? Is there any chance that would help?”
I grimace, guilt prickling at my skin. “Actually, I might have already sort of demanded that Emma tell me everything… once I was ready to hear it.”
He nods like he expected as much. “So you know that it was never meant to be real with Rachel?”
“I know.”
Glancing away, Ethan exhales a slow, heavy breath then looks back at me. “It’s just not something I like to talk about. The whole thing was complicated and messy. The only people who know about it are my family and a lawyer buddy of mine from college who helped with the divorce. I’ve pretty much cut tieswith everyone else who knew anything about Rachel or Sophia. I switched jobs, lost touch with people. It was a relief, not having to explain the situation over and over again.” His voice dips lower. “But that isn’t an excuse for keeping it from you. I should have been honest. You just…,” He pauses, shaking his head. “You snuck up on me. We went from work friends to close friends to… everything else so fast. I was swept up in it. Swept up in you. And by the time I realized that I needed to tell you the truth, I knew I’d already waited too long.”
Ethan’s voice is a little ragged now. The rough edges of it scrape against my heart, which is tight in my chest.
“I get it. I do.”
We fall quiet again. This time, there’s a strange comfort in our silence, a familiar stillness to the moment, like so many others we’ve shared in the past.
My gaze drifts to the glowing windows of the house, surrounded by the growing darkness. Inside, Emma and Garrett are caught in a perfect frame, sharing a quiet touch while laughter swells around them. The sight twists something in my chest: a bittersweet blend of happiness for my best friend and the ache of knowing that could’ve been us. If only he’d been honest. If only we hadn’t unraveled. We should be in there together, smiling, laughing, stealing moments just like them. Instead, we’re out here looking in, trying to navigate the wreckage of our breakup.
Ethan is staring at them too. Part of me wonders if he’s having the same thought.
“I miss you, Margot.” The words don’t startle me as much as the sound of his voice. Not pleading, but honest. Raw.
My throat tightens. “I miss you too.” I look down at my hands, twisting them in my lap. “But I’m not ready to… to go there again. Not yet.”
He nods once, his jaw tight, like he’d braced himself for that.