Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I am a part of this family unit now. Not conventionally but by circumstances that none of us ever thought would play out. Without needing to say a single word, Ethan has shown that I have his deepest trust and respect, and I hope somewhere in there, a part of his heart.
We had dinner together, Fi and I making a big batch of spaghetti which was easy and loved by all. We kept conversation light, didn’t discuss Lionel or any other Mardraggon, for that matter, and managed to get smiles from Sylvie. After, we played Heads Up!, a charades game that paired Sylvie and me, and we stomped everyone’s butts. Her yawns indicated an early bedtime and although she’s been asleep for over an hour, Ethan has gone up twice to check on her.
Fi and Tommy returned to their cottage, Kat back to her apartment, and Trey and Wade back to their house in town. Ethan asked me to stay, so I did. We’ve been cuddled on the couch in between his trips upstairs to check on Sylvie, talking in low voices about what the future might look like because things are going to be chaotic.
Ethan got a text from Gabe while we were eating dinner. It was simple and didn’t invite a follow-up response: My father’s been arrested. Attempted murder.
We didn’t tell Sylvie and Ethan has decided to keep her home from school tomorrow. The update came too late for the six o’clock news cycle but we expect it to be on the late news. It will be all over the school in the morning.
The good news is that an assistant principal in a neighboring county has a sister who is a licensed child therapist specializing in trauma and she has agreed to see Sylvie tomorrow. Ethan will bring her at lunchtime and that’s probably our biggest solace right now. We have a professional to help guide us all through this journey.
The stairs creak as Ethan comes down and when he walks into the room, I can tell he’s as tired as I am. When he reaches the couch, he takes my hand and pulls me up, only to lower himself down with me on his lap. He adjusts my position and I put my arms around his neck, resting my head on his shoulder. “You okay?”
“Yes and no. At this moment, with you in my arms, everything is perfect. If I think about my kid and what she’s going through, I’m not okay.”
“What can I do?” I ask softly.
“Don’t move a muscle. Just let me hold you.”
“I can do that,” I say, but I move a little. I burrow in closer to him, one hand going to the back of his neck to stroke him lightly.
As tired as I am, there’s not an ounce of me that’s drowsy. I’m hyperaware of everything… the feel of my body against his, the sorrow in his words and the knowledge that right now, I’m some measure of comfort.
It’s silent for a very long time and when Ethan finally talks, I’m surprised by the subject matter. “There was a time I thought my siblings hated me.” I jerk in his arms, lifting my face to look at him. Green pools of sadness meet me and he nods. “It’s true.”
“No way.” I shake my head. “I’ve seen you and your family interact. That is some deep-seated love.”
His smile is soft. “Yes, I know that now. But I didn’t always and that’s because I was too wrapped up in the chaos of my life to consider otherwise. I was standoffish, focused on work, unapproachable. I was put into a position of power but the weight of responsibility was crushing. It took everything I had to keep Blackburn Farms running when my parents turned it over to me, and that left no room in my life for anything else. The lack of attention I gave them, the invites to do things with them that I constantly turned down—it made it so we had a huge divide in our relationship. My siblings didn’t like me much at all.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I ask, my palm pressed against his cheek.
“Because when I say I had no room in my life for my siblings, I really meant I had no room in my life for anything. The farm was my everything. It was my one true love. It was where my loyalty lay.”
“But now you have Sylvie,” I say, understanding crashing over me like a wave. “And you see that you have far more in you than you thought, and it has paved the way to mend bridges with your siblings. For that matter, you—”
“I have you,” he says. Three words said as soft as a whisper carried on the wind, yet they punch into me like I’ve been struck by a sledgehammer.