21| The Morning After

Sophie woke up the next morning, disoriented and groggy. For a moment, she just lay there, blinking against the soft morning light.

The first thing she noticed was that she was in her bed—though she distinctly remembered falling asleep at the kitchen counter, waiting for Ethan.

A pang of hurt hit her again, sharp and familiar. But as she glanced around the room, realization dawned. He must have carried her here.

The thought brought a faint smile to her lips, though she wasn't sure if she was ready to forgive him just yet.

She was still hurt. Still frustrated. But she also wanted to ask if he was okay. To scold him for working too hard, for not driving safely, for getting into that stupid accident.

And—damn it—why would he promise her something and then ditch her like that?

But then... he must have cared. Maybe not in the way she wanted, not enough to keep his word, but enough to make sure she wasn't uncomfortable. He had still carried her to bed.

Stretching, she pushed away the urge to check if he was home. Instead, she decided to make the most of the new day.

After a long, soothing shower, she slipped into a simple dress, tied up her loose curls, and braced herself for whatever the day had in store.

As she stepped out of her room, faint sounds from the kitchen caught her attention. She stilled, listening. Someone was moving around downstairs.

Her heart gave a little jolt.

Was he here?

Curiosity pulled her forward, her bare feet light against the wooden floor as she followed the noise. When she stepped into the kitchen, she stopped in her tracks, breath catching for a moment.

Ethan was standing by the stove, making breakfast.

Sophie had never seen him behind the stove before, but he didn't look clumsy. He moved with focus, precise and sure, like he knew exactly what he was doing. Like he had secretly trained in one of those fancy French culinary schools.

If that wasn't Classic Ethan, she didn't know what else could be.

Still, she hesitated in the doorway, uncertainty settling in her chest. The awkwardness of their last conversation still lingered, heavy between them.

They had not really talked.

Not properly.

"Good morning," she said softly, careful not to startle him.

Ethan turned, his expression brightening with a faint smile. "Good morning, Sophie. Did you sleep well?"

She nodded, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Yes, I did. Thank you... for bringing me to my room last night."

She scolded herself immediately—this wasn't the time to be blushing. She was supposed to be mad at him.

"Don't thank me," Ethan said, his voice tinged with regret. "It's my fault you fell asleep waiting for me." He paused, meeting her eyes. "Sophie, I'm so sorry about yesterday."

Lately, he'd been throwing out apologies so easily. But she knew he meant every single one of them. That was what made it so hard to stay mad at Ethan.

"I really enjoyed the meal," he continued, his gaze sincere. "It was delicious. I'm sorry we didn't get to share it together."

Sophie blinked, unsure of what to say. She glanced around—he had cleaned up the meal she hadn't even bothered to touch last night. And the cleaning staff wasn't coming today.

"Did you warm it up first?" she asked.

He hesitated, looking almost shy. "No... It was my fault it got cold in the first place. It only felt right to eat it that way." He gave her a small, sheepish smile. "It was delicious, though. Really delicious."

Her chest tightened. Her emotions swelled, threatening to spill over.

Why did Ethan always think he had to punish himself?

Yeah, she was mad at him. But she also knew he was going through so much. Carrying so much.

"I really messed up, didn't I?" Ethan said quietly.

She hadn't expected that—this softness, this acknowledgment. Her heart swelled, and before she could stop herself, a tear slipped down her cheek.

"Yeah, you did," she whispered, her voice trembling. "But I was so worried about you." Another tear followed. Then another. "You scared me, Ethan. When you collapsed in front of me, I thought... I thought you died or something. And then I find out you crashed your car? You could have been seriously hurt."

Ethan looked stricken, almost confused—like it hadn't even occurred to him that anyone would worry about him like this.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice quiet.

She sniffled, shaking her head. "You don't get it. We had a fight. Then you come home and pass out from exhaustion. And then I find out you crashed your car? You can't just... play with my heart like that. Not when I—"

She stopped herself, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Ethan took a step closer, his expression tight with guilt. "Sophie, please don't cry. I'll... I'll try to take better care of myself. I promise."

She wanted to tell him that she wasn't crying because she was upset.

She was crying because she was relieved.

Relieved that he noticed. Relieved that he cared enough to say something.

But the words got stuck in her throat, and more tears welled up despite her efforts to hold them back.

"I'm so sorry, Sophie. Please don't cry," Ethan murmured again, his voice even softer this time.

His concern only made the tears fall faster.

Ethan hesitated for a moment, then finally closed the distance between them, wrapping her in his arms. His embrace was warm, steady, familiar. His scent—coffee and the faintest trace of cologne—wrapped around her like a comfort she hadn't realized she needed.

Her heart skipped a beat as she leaned into him, her tears gradually slowing.

After a moment, she pulled away, wiping at her damp cheeks as she looked up at him. Their eyes met—her green, his deep blue—and for a brief second, something in the air between them shifted.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you the last time we talked," she murmured, barely above a whisper.

Ethan shook his head. "No. That was my fault. I've been so wrapped up in work, and I hurt you. I'm sorry, Sophie."

The sincerity in his voice made her heart ache.

She wanted to believe him.

She wanted to believe that things could get better.

Ethan gestured toward the table, clearing his throat. "I know this doesn't make up for anything... but I made you breakfast."

Sophie glanced at the neatly plated food, then back at him.

It was such a simple thing. But somehow, it meant so much.

A small, genuine smile curved her lips.

"Thank you, Ethan. This looks delicious."

For a few moments, they ate in comfortable silence, the gentle clinking of cutlery and the soft hum of the morning filling the space.

Sophie found herself stealing glances at him—watching the way his brow furrowed slightly in concentration as he ate, how his fingers tapped absently against the edge of his mug between sips of coffee.

Finally, she spoke, breaking the quiet.

"I just want you to know," she began, her voice light but edged with something deeper, "I'm not a crybaby. You just happen to always catch me at my worst moments."

Ethan glanced at her, then chuckled—a rare, genuine sound that made something in her chest skip.

"And I suppose now's a good time to tell you I'm not completely an asshole," he said, tilting his head slightly. "You just happen to catch me at some of my worst moments too."

Sophie let out a laugh, her shoulders relaxing for the first time in days.

This.

This was what she had missed. The easy conversation, the shared laughter, the way Ethan's smile softened the weight pressing on her chest.

For a moment, it felt like them again.

As they finished breakfast, Ethan stood to clear the table.

Sophie joined him, gathering dishes and bringing them to the sink. Ethan had already rolled up his sleeves, hands slipping under the warm water as he started washing.

For a second, she hesitated.

Maybe now was the perfect time to bring up Claire.

She took a breath, steadying herself. "Ethan, I—"

Before she could finish, his phone buzzed on the counter.

He glanced at the screen, brow furrowing slightly.

"It's David," he said, drying his hands before picking up the phone. He walked a few steps away, answering with his usual directness.

"Hey, David. What's up?"

Sophie sighed internally, a small pang of disappointment settling in her chest.

She had finally built up the courage, and just like that, the moment was gone.

She watched as Ethan listened, his expression shifting from mild interest to hesitation.

When the call ended, he turned to her, thoughtful. "David's inviting us to his lake house for the weekend," he said. "Just a small gathering with a few friends."

Sophie hesitated. A weekend away?

Her first instinct was to say yes. It sounded wonderful—getting away, fresh air, time together.

But... would it be too much? Too soon?

Then she thought about how rare moments like this were with Ethan. And, God, she missed him.

"A weekend getaway?" she echoed, a smile forming before she could stop it. "That sounds wonderful! We should go."

Then, almost as if the thought had just struck her, a different kind of nervousness crept into her voice.

"Um... will your friend Claire be there as well?" She tried to sound casual—but failed miserably.

Ethan blinked, clearly caught off guard.

"Oh," he said, brows knitting slightly. "I don't think so. She's out of the country now." He paused, studying her. "I didn't realize you two were getting along."

Sophie felt the relief before she could mask it.

She quickly covered it up, forcing a faint smile. "Well, I wouldn't exactly call it getting along," she said, keeping her tone playful yet evasive, hoping he wouldn't press further.

Before he could question it, she shifted gears, a bright smile lighting up her face.

"We have to go, Ethan," she said quickly. "It's been so long since I've been near the water. I really want to go."

Her excitement was genuine now, pushing aside the lingering tension from a moment ago.

Ethan seemed caught off guard by her enthusiasm, but something in his expression softened.

He exhaled, shaking his head lightly before giving a small smirk. "Alright," he said, nodding. "If it means that much to you, we'll go."

A beat passed, then—

"It might be good for us."

Sophie grinned, practically beaming.

"Really? That's great! I'll start packing right away."

She pushed back her chair, already half out of her seat, her excitement palpable.

Ethan chuckled, watching her. "Sophie, you still have work today and tomorrow. Did you forget?"

She froze, then groaned, laughing at herself.

"Oh. Right. I forgot it's only Thursday."

Ethan smirked, amused by her enthusiasm. "We'll drive there tomorrow evening," he said, already reaching for his phone again. "I'll let David know we're in."

Sophie nodded, already daydreaming about the lake, the fresh air, the chance to escape—

And most of all...

The chance to spend time with Ethan.

Maybe—just maybe—this trip could bring them even closer.

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