Chapter 13

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

I will hold her as long as she needs.

As long as I need, too.

~ Ethan

CHLOÉ ESCAPED FROM the church as soon as she could. The air inside was suffocating, the pain in her chest close to unbearable. But if she’d had to stand there and smile at another person hugging her and telling her what a great man her pop had been, she just might’ve lost it.

She’d managed to keep it together for the most part, so far. But the second her dad had gotten up to give his eulogy, she knew she was a goner.

She’d always known how close they were, had watched the special bond between them her whole life, and seeing him up there trying to hold it together had been too much to bear.

All she’d wanted in that moment was to go to him, hold him, tell him it would be all right, just like he would for her. But she couldn’t do that. Because it would never be all right. His dad had died, and she couldn’t imagine how she would cope if the situation was reversed.

She raced down the side stairs of the church and across the lawn to the huge maple that stood protector of the parish, then braced her hand on the trunk of the tree and did her best to breathe. But the air kept getting caught around the lump in her throat.

She couldn’t do this. Didn’t know how anyone did this. It felt as though the wound inside her would never heal. That she would never wake up again and feel…normal.

“Chloé?”

At the sound of Ethan’s voice, she quickly wiped at the tears that had fallen down her cheeks, not wanting to appear weak. The crunch of the grass and maple leaves under his feet spoke of his approach, and it was all Chloé could do not to run somewhere and hide. Not wanting him to see her like this.

“Chloé?” He was much closer now. So close that before she could even try to respond, she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder that made her jolt. “Hey. It’s okay. It’s just me.”

She blinked and nodded several times but didn’t dare lift her head, because if she did, she knew he would see her red eyes full of tears.

“I saw you run out here and just wanted to check on you.”

She bit down on her lip, doing her best to hold back the racking sob that wanted to escape, and Ethan stepped around in front of her. He hooked a gentle finger under her chin and raised her head, and when their eyes connected and she saw the compassion and understanding swirling in his, she finally lost it.

All of the heartbreak, pain, and sadness welled up inside of her and the floodgates opened, and the next thing she knew, she was in Ethan’s arms sobbing.

He wrapped them around her waist, drawing her in close, and Chloé looped hers around his neck and held on tight. She buried her face in his neck as the waves of grief slammed into her, and he ran a hand up and down the back of her dress, doing his best to soothe her.

“It’s okay,” she heard as he kissed the top of her head. “Let it out, petite fille. I’ve got you.”

His gentle words provided the safe space she needed to let go, and she held on to him like a lifeline as her emotions finally broke free.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there in his arms. It was like time had frozen and she was stuck in a perpetual loop of sadness. But when her eyes finally seemed incapable of any more tears, he pulled back, trailed his fingers down her arm, and took her hand.

He led her around the tree to a bench on the other side. “Sit down with me?”

She sniffed and nodded, then took the seat beside him. He pulled her in under his arm and held her tight.

They sat there like that for what seemed like hours, staring out at the blue sky above, and again Chloé thought the sunny day completely out of place.

“You were very brave back there,” Ethan finally said after what seemed like an eternity.

“Brave?” Chloé’s voice cracked under the strain of holding back her tears. “I don’t feel very brave. I ran away instead of standing by my family.”

“You didn’t run away—you just needed some space. Some air to breathe.” He ran his hand down the back of her hair. “I didn’t go to my parents’ funeral. But if I did, I’d like to think I would’ve been as brave as you.”

Chloé blinked and turned to face him, and the soft, sincere expression in his eyes made her tears well up again.

“I don’t know how you did it,” she said, shaking her head. “How you got through each day without them. How you dealt with this…this heartache. I loved my pop so much, but losing my parents? I can’t even imagine. Dad? He looks so broken.”

“Grief is a hell of a thing. It’s something we all eventually have to deal with and something we never think we can heal from. But eventually the sadness eases and the pain becomes more bearable, until one day you can think about the ones you lost and remember the good times.”

Chloé sniffed and dug around for the tissue in her pocket. “Is that what you do now? Remember the good times?”

“Most of the time.”

“But not today,” she guessed. “I can see it in your eyes.”

He nodded. “Today is a little harder. Seeing you and your family grieve brings back feelings of my own.”

Chloé entwined their fingers, feeling more connected to Ethan in that moment than she ever had before.

“Will you talk to me? Let me help you, the way you just did me?”

“Today isn’t about me. It’s about you and your family. Your pop.”

“You’re right. It’s about family and grieving, and being there to comfort those we love who are hurting. You’re hurting.”

“So are you.” Ethan looked down at her, and Chloé knew right then that this was the road to healing. Sharing in another’s grief, loving them through it, and being there for one another when you came out the other side.

“Ethan? Trust me. Let it out.” She repeated his own words back to him. “I’ve got you.”

* * *

“ALL RIGHT, ETHAN, what flavor do you want?”

Ethan ran up the boardwalk of the little fishing village in Sorrento, and stopped by his dad where he stood in front of a gelato stand. They’d passed it nearly an hour ago on their way down to one of the local piers, where they’d found a spot and watched the fishing boats and ferries go by all afternoon.

He peered through the glass window of the refrigerated stand at the colorful tubs of gelato and felt his mouth water. His parents had been doing their best to teach him some Italian while they were on vacation. But no matter how many times they got him to repeat things back, it just hadn’t stuck.

Except for one thing: “Can I have the cioccolato?”

“The same flavor you had last night?”

“Yeah. It was super yum.” And the only thing he could kind of say.

His dad chuckled and mussed his hair up. “Are you sure you don’t want to try something new? You can have anything you like.”

Ethan looked back through the glass again and read: fragola, nocciola, limone, and vaniglia. But nah, he was sticking with what he knew.

“I’ll just have the cioccolato.” Because seriously, who could mess up chocolate?

“You got it. Did Mom tell you what she wanted?”

“The same.”

“Well, that’s easy enough. Guess I’m going to have to be the adventurous one.” His dad reached into the back of his shorts and pulled out his wallet. Then he went about ordering one cup of nocciola gelato and two cioccolatos in perfect Italian.

“Grazie,” the stand owner said as he slid the small paper cups with two scoops in each onto the counter.

Ethan waited patiently while his dad put his wallet away, and once his hands were free, he gave Ethan his cup and picked up the other two.

“Right. Ready to go find Mom?”

Ethan grinned and scooped up some of the cool gelato, sucking it off the spoon, as they made their way down the boardwalk.

His mom had decided to look at some of the local shops while they were getting their afternoon treat, and as they strolled past several restaurants opening for the night, they spotted her across the road in one of the antique stores.

In the afternoon sunlight, her blue dress and big white brimmed hat stood out amongst the locals who were walking by, making it easy to spot her through the crowds. But even without that, the smile she was aiming toward the store owner was what really made her impossible to miss.

It was bright and happy, full of joy, as she picked up a bowl off one of the tables and took a closer look. The store owner came over to her, and they talked for several minutes, Mom laughing at something the man said as he reached for a second bowl and pointed to both.

“Uh oh, looks like your mom is getting talked into another special deal,” Dad said as they stopped on the side of the road and waited for it to clear.

The port and marina only had one road through it, which made it busy during peak hour, like now. But they weren’t in a rush, and Ethan had his gelato, so he didn’t care how long he had to wait.

His dad, however, clearly felt different, groaning with every new item Mom picked up.

“Remind me to never let her loose again,” he said, smiling down at Ethan, not serious in the slightest.

Ethan knew how much his dad loved his mom, and vice versa. He would give her the world if he could. But since that wasn’t for sale, he’d decided he would take her to every place in it instead.

“Looks like a break is coming up. Give me your hand.” Dad balanced the two cups of gelato in one hand and took Ethan’s hand in the other, and as the cars and trucks cleared, they stepped out on the road and made their way across.

At their approach, Mom looked up and spotted them coming her way. She put one of the bowls down, her bright smile widening as she waved and called out to them, and they stepped up on the other side of the curb where the shop was located.

That was when Ethan’s entire world exploded.

The joy on his mom’s face turned to fear, her wave was now an arm reaching out to grab him, and the greeting she had been giving turned to a scream. The smile on her face was replaced with abject horror—then everything went black.

Seconds…

Minutes…

Hours…

Days.

Time had frozen.

Or maybe it didn’t exist at all anymore.

Maybe he was dead. Maybe he was—

“So sad what happened…”

“Tragic.”

“How old is the boy?”

“Eight, poor thing.”

Soft voices filtered through the black void of Ethan’s subconscious as he stirred in the hard bed he lay on. He was cold, the sheets draped over him paper thin, and the pillow under his head was flat as a board. There was a weird smell in the air—like bleach and lemons—and as he tried to open his eyes, a bright light flickered off in the distance.

“Come on, Ethan.” The voice was much closer now, right by his ear. “It’s time to wake up.”

Wake up? He wasn’t asleep. He could hear everything she was saying, but when he went to tell her that, nothing came out.

“Little lamb is probably hiding in there. Can’t say I blame him. There’s not much to look forward to out here.”

A shiver skated up his spine as that light in the distance started to flicker. What was she talking about? What did they mean, “out here”? Where were his mom and dad?

He didn’t understand what was going on, and it was starting to scare him.

“Hard to believe it’s been a week now and no one’s come for him.”

“I know. It’s just heartbreaking. The doctors said the only thing wrong with him is the broken arm—other than that, he’s physically fine.”

“Except he won’t wake up.”

“Except that.”

Doctors? Why would he need a doctor?

He wanted to see his mom and dad. Where were they? Why wouldn’t these ladies go and get them?

But before he could try to ask, the voices faded until they disappeared completely, and that sliver of light that had been his one shining spot of hope vanished—and he was once again swallowed by the black void…

“OH ETHAN.” CHLOÉ looked up at him, tears brimming in her eyes all over again. “I’m so sorry.”

He reached for her face and cupped it in his palm as he wiped away a tear. “Thank you. But it’s okay. I’m okay. That was a long time ago, and while some days are more difficult than others, I’m able to look back now and remember before the accident. To the happier times.”

“Like the gelato?”

He drew a lock of her hair between his thumb and forefinger and nodded. “Like the gelato.”

Chloé swallowed. “Why didn’t you go to their funeral?”

“I was in a coma for around three weeks. The truck that hit us—or ran into the store—was small. It was used for fishing down off the pier. The man must’ve traveled the road every day for thirty-odd years, but on that day the steering went out and the brakes failed.”

Chloé covered her mouth, her eyes relaying the same kind of horror his mom’s had, and Ethan nodded.

“It came from behind. Mom saw it coming. It hit my dad first as my mom grabbed me and threw me out of the way, then it hit her. They were killed on impact. I got a broken arm and was knocked unconscious. My father’s assistant had me transported back to the States, to one of the top hospitals. But I was out for another two weeks once I got there. They said it was part head trauma and part shock. My body’s way of coping. But they didn’t know when I would wake up, so…”

He took her hand and brought it up to his mouth, kissing her palm, his eyes blurring as he looked into her tear-streaked face.

“It’s amazing what your brain and your heart can survive. How it can eventually heal and remind you of the good times. You’ll get there, I promise. And then you’ll be able to think of all the memories you shared with your pop, and smile instead of cry.”

Chloé’s chin quivered as another wave of sadness hit her, and Ethan pulled her into his side and kissed the top of her head, holding her as the sorrow once again took hold and shook her to her core.

He understood what it meant to feel so bereft and to experience grief for the first time, and he wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Especially not the people he loved.

The rustling of leaves had him glancing over his shoulder, and he was shocked when he spotted Priest straightening from the large maple tree behind them. He had his hands in his pockets and a stoic expression on his face, but there was a softening to his eyes that Ethan had never seen before.

How long had he been standing there? A minute? Five? The whole conversation?

Ethan was about to get up and invite him over, but Priest shook his head and held up a hand. Then he looked to Chloé cuddled into Ethan’s side, her shoulders shaking and her soft sobs filling the air, and gave a slight nod.

It was clear that Priest had come outside in search of his daughter, concerned for her welfare. But now he was handing over the responsibility of her well-being to Ethan.

It was a level of trust he had never expected from the other man, but his heart warmed at the acceptance in Priest’s eyes, the permission he was granting Ethan to comfort his daughter, as he turned on his heel and walked back to the church.

Ethan stared after him for a long minute, the silent exchange between them meaning more to him than Priest would ever know. Then he turned back to Chloé and wrapped her in his arms, determined to hold her for as long as she needed to get through the rest of the day.