Chapter 17

Seventeen

Natalie

One Week Later

The sky was a brilliant blue, and the cooler breeze after the heat wave was a welcome relief, gently rustling the leaves of the oak trees that lined the park. The scent of kettle corn mingled with the fresh grass, and the slight tang of barbecue smoke created an atmosphere that was pure, small-town Americana.

Tents dotted the park, sheltering various booths, games, and the all-important silent auction. The air was alive with the sounds of children's laughter, the occasional bark of a dog, and the upbeat music playing from the DJ's booth near the stage. It was shaping up to be the perfect day.

I had barely stepped out of the van with a box of last-minute supplies when I heard a familiar voice calling my name. "Miss Natalie!" Before I could turn around, a small pair of arms wrapped around my legs, nearly causing me to drop the box.

"Whoa there, Jude!" I laughed, setting the box down on a nearby table to return the enthusiastic hug. "You're getting stronger every day, kiddo."

Jude grinned up at me, his cheeks flushed with excitement. "Mom said I could help with the games! Can I, Miss Natalie? Pleeease?"

I ruffled his hair, unable to resist his infectious energy. "Of course, you can! Just make sure you don't wear yourself out before the fun really begins."

"Thanks!" he shouted, already darting off toward the ring toss game, where a group of kids had started gathering.

As I watched him go, a small smile tugged at my lips. Moments like this—seeing the joy and innocence in the kids I taught every day—were what made everything worth it. But as much as I tried to focus on the here and now, the unease in my chest wouldn't completely fade.

It had been a week since I'd discovered the truth about Ethan. A week of me ignoring his calls and texts. A week of trying—and failing—to push thoughts of him out of my mind. I'd thrown myself into prepping for this fundraiser, hoping it would be enough to distract me, but Ethan lingered like a shadow I couldn't shake.

"Nat, can you grab the extra tags for the auction items?" Jess called out, her voice cutting through my thoughts.

"On it!" I replied with a determined nod, my feet moving quickly as I made my way back to the van. The familiar rhythm of event prep was a welcome distraction, the tangible tasks giving me something to focus on amidst the tumultuous thoughts clouding my mind. As I rummaged through the supplies, my fingers brushed over each item, searching for what was needed.

Yet, despite the busyness around me, I couldn't help but wonder if I'd ever be able to move past Ethan and our relationship that had ended so abruptly. I'd eventually read his texts and listened to his voice messages, each bringing back a rush of emotions and memories. But now, standing here today with the school year coming to an end, I didn't know what to say or if I truly wanted to say anything at all. My heart felt heavy with indecision and conflicting feelings, unsure of how to move forward from this point on.

When I returned with the tags, Jess was busy arranging the items on the check-in table, her movements quick and efficient. "Thanks," she said, glancing up at me with a smile. But her smile faded slightly when she noticed the tightness in my expression. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I said, forcing a grin. "Just hoping everyone has a good time."

Jess placed a hand on my arm, her gaze softening. "So far, so good."

As more parents and volunteers arrived, the park began to fill with the buzz of excitement. I moved from tent to tent, checking on the games, the food stalls, and finally, the silent auction.

The main attraction of the auction was a beautiful oil painting of Cedar Cove, created by a renowned artist who often spent summers in our town. Its vibrant colors perfectly captured the essence and appeal of our quaint little community. I was optimistic that it would garner a substantial bid, and seeing it prominently displayed filled me with a sense of satisfaction.

But as I stood there, making sure everything was in place, I felt a shift in the atmosphere. The lively chatter quieted, replaced by hushed whispers and curious glances. I turned to see what had caused the change, and my heart plummeted to the pit of my stomach.

Ethan.

He walked through the park with an air of quiet confidence, dressed in tailored slacks and a crisp button-down shirt that contrasted sharply with the casual attire of everyone else. His presence alone was enough to draw attention, and the Lamborghini parked just beyond the tents only added to the curiosity swirling around him.

My breath caught in my throat as I watched Ethan move closer to the silent auction. His form-fitting clothes accentuated every ripple and bulge of his physique, and I couldn't help but notice the sharp lines of his jaw now that the stubble was gone.

His haircut was stylish, and the hair gel gave him a trendy, polished look that made him stand out even more among the crowd. Ethan didn't notice me at first. His attention was focused on the items displayed under the tent. But when he finally stopped in front of the featured painting, my heart pounded so loudly that I was sure everyone around me could hear it.

Without hesitation, Ethan stepped up to the table and scribbled his bid on the sheet. As he placed it back down, the murmurs around the tent grew louder. People craned their necks, trying to see who had made such a bold move.

I didn't have to look to know that it was an amount far beyond what anyone else had offered.

Frozen in place, I struggled to process what I was seeing. The mixture of anger, hurt, confusion, and desire that had been building inside me all week surged to the surface. What was he doing here? After everything that had happened, after everything I'd learned, how could he show up like this, as if nothing had changed?

But as much as I wanted to march over to him and demand answers, I couldn't move. A part of me—a part I wasn't ready to confront—was glad he was here. I was desperate to see him again, hear his voice, feel that connection I'd been trying so hard to forget.

As I stood there, watching Ethan glance around at the other items in the auction, my heart ached with a confusing mix of emotions. Nothing about this was going to be easy. And nothing about this was going to be okay with my heart.

Not even close.

The strain in the tent was palpable as whispers rippled through the crowd. I could feel everyone's gaze, their curiosity buzzing in the air. But all I could focus on was Ethan, standing by the silent auction table with that familiar, confident demeanor as if he hadn't just turned my world upside down.

Jess leaned close and whispered, "Nat, what's going on? Do you know him?"

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. "Yeah," I admitted, my voice strained. "That's Ethan."

Her eyes widened in recognition. "The Ethan?" she asked, glancing back at him with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "Damn, I would have never recognized him."

"Yep, Mr. Billionaire," I muttered, my heart pounding in my chest. I wasn't sure if I was more angry or relieved to see him, but there was no denying the jolt of electricity that shot through me when our eyes finally met.

Ethan's gaze was steady, searching, as if he was trying to gauge my reaction. I could see the strain in his posture, the slight tightening of his jaw. He was nervous, which was something I'd rarely seen in him. It made him seem more human, more vulnerable—and damn it, that only made it harder for me to stay mad at him.

As I stood there, frozen in place, he started to walk toward me. Each step he took felt like a challenge, daring me to confront the reality of who he was and what we had. I wanted to run, to hide from the confusion and hurt that was bubbling up inside me, but my feet refused to move.

"Natalie," he said softly when he finally reached me, his voice laced with something I couldn't quite place—regret, maybe, or longing. "Can we talk?"

I stared at him, taking in the sight of the man I thought I knew. His gaze was as I remembered, but there was an edge to him now, a rawness that hadn't been there before. The realization that this was the real Ethan—the billionaire, the CEO, the man who had kept so much hidden from me—hit me like a punch to the gut.

"What are you doing here, Ethan?" I asked, my voice barely steady.

"I came to see you," he replied, his eyes never leaving mine. "I have something important I need to tell you, but I?—."

"Tell me?! I had to figure it out on my own," I cut him off, my frustration boiling over. "Ethan, you didn't just ‘forget' to tell me you're a billionaire. You lied by omission. You let me think you were someone you're not."

His expression tightened, but he didn't back down. "You're right," he admitted, his voice firm. "I screwed up. But it wasn't because I didn't care. I didn't know how to tell you, and by the time I realized how much I—" He paused, searching for the right words. "By the time I realized how much you meant to me, I was in too deep. I didn't want to lose you when you found out we were from two completely different worlds."

The sincerity in his voice caught me off guard, chipping away at the wall of anger I'd been trying so hard to maintain. But the hurt was still there, raw and aching. "You lied to me! You lied about the watch! You lied about your father's illness! And now? You show up here like this, expecting what, Ethan? That everything will go back to normal?"

"No," he said quickly, shaking his head. "I don't expect that at all. I… I needed to see you. I needed to try to make things right."

"Make things right?" I repeated, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "You think showing up here and throwing your money around is going to fix this?"

"It's not about the money, Natalie," he said, his tone growing more urgent. "It's about you. About us. I can't lose you, not without at least trying to explain."

I hesitated, my emotions warring within me. Part of me wanted to listen, to give him the chance to explain himself. But another part of me—the part that had been hurt and betrayed—was screaming for me to walk away, to protect myself from any more pain.

Before I could respond, Jess appeared at my side, her expression a mix of concern and protectiveness. "Nat, maybe we should take a breather," she suggested, her eyes flicking to Ethan with a look that was anything but friendly.

"Yeah, I… I think that's a good idea," I agreed, my voice shaky. I needed space, needed time to process everything that was happening.

But as I turned to leave, Ethan reached out, gently taking my hand. His touch was warm and familiar, and it sent a shiver down my spine. "Natalie, please," he pleaded, his voice low and desperate. "Just give me a chance to explain. I know I don't deserve it, but I'm asking anyway."

I looked down at our joined hands, my heart pounding in my ears. The connection between us was undeniable. And despite everything, I couldn't bring myself to pull away.

"I don't know, Ethan," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to decide now," he said softly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "Just… think about it. Please. I've got a room at the Ceder Cove Inn. I'll be there for a few days."

I nodded slowly, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. "Okay," I agreed, my voice barely audible. "But I need time, Ethan. I can't just do whatever you want… I need time."

He nodded in understanding, his grip on my hand gentle yet firm. "Take all the time you need," he said, his voice filled with a quiet determination. "I'll wait as long as it takes."

With that, I pulled my hand from his grasp, the loss of contact sending a pang of longing through me. As I walked away with Jess, I could feel his eyes on me, could feel the importance of the decision I would eventually have to make.

But for now, all I wanted was to escape the chaos in my heart, to find some semblance of peace amid the storm that Ethan had brought back into my life.

As the day wore on, I tried to focus on the fundraiser—on the kids' laughter and the smiles of the parents. But Ethan's presence lingered, his words echoing in my mind. No matter how much I tried to ignore it, I knew that this wasn't over—not by a long shot.

And as much as I hated to admit it, a part of me wasn't sure I wanted it to be.