Page 68 of Faking it with my Bad Boy Crush

He grabbed his phone, scrolling through the notifications. His expression shifted from annoyed to alarmed.

"What?" I asked.

"Six missed calls from Richard. Three from the prosecutor's office. Two from journalists." He pulled up his voicemail, listening with growing tension. Then he looked at me with shock and something that might have been fear. "Someone leaked the ethics investigation details to the media. Every news outlet in Seattle is running stories about my case. The state bar just put out a statement saying they're expediting the investigation due to public interest."

"What does that mean?"

"It means whatever they decide, it's going to be very public. Very scrutinized. Very final." He scrolled through more messages. “I’m sorry, I need to start prepping. I should the late ferry to Seattle and get there tonight.”

He grabbed his jacket, already mentally preparing to leave. "Maya, I'm sorry. I know this isn't what you wanted—"

"Go." I straightened his collar, trying to be supportive even though my heart was breaking at the timing. "Do what you need to do. Defend yourself. Deal with the investigation. And then come back. To me. To us. To the life we're going to build."

"I will. I promise." He kissed me one more time, fierce and certain. "I love you. That doesn't change regardless of what happens in Seattle."

"I love you too. Now go before your phone explodes from all the notifications."

I watched him drive away, his taillights disappearing down the island road, heading toward the ferry terminal and Seattle and whatever came next.

Inside my cottage, dinner was still warm on the stove—Portuguese kale soup and bread, the comfort food conversation we'd never gotten to have. I sat at my kitchen table, staring at my phone, willing it to ring with good news.

Instead, I got a text from Tessa: "Just saw the news coverage about Ethan's ethics case. It's everywhere. This is huge, babe. How are you doing?"

I typed back: "He just left for Seattle. Emergency ethics investigation. Don't know when he's coming back."

Her response was immediate: "Want me to come over?"

"No. I'm okay. Just... processing."

"Text me if you need me. Love you."

"Love you too."

I sat in my quiet cottage, the dinner I'd made getting cold, thinking about Ethan driving toward an uncertain future and wondering when—or if—he'd come back.

We'd confessed our love. We'd committed to building a life together. We'd survived fraud investigations and courtroom battles and media scrutiny.

But none of that mattered if the state bar took away his license and his future and his reason to stay.

My phone buzzed one more time. A text from Ethan: "Made the ferry. Thinking about you. About us. About the life we're going to build. Whatever happens in Seattle, I'm coming back to you. I promise."

I stared at those words for a long time, wanting to believe them, needing to believe them.

But promises were easy when you were on a ferry heading away from complications.

The hard part was keeping them when the world demanded you choose between love and survival.

And Ethan was about to face that choice head-on.

Chapter twenty-one

Confrontation

Ethan

Seattle felt wrong.

I'd lived here for fifteen years, built my career in these streets, knew every coffee shop between my old apartment and the firm's downtown office. But driving through the city Wednesday morning, heading toward the state bar offices for my second ethics interview, everything felt alien. Too loud, too fast, too disconnected from what actually mattered.