Page 51 of Ethan & Grace

The moment the words came out of my mouth, I regretted them. Jason looked at me like a wounded puppy, and I couldn’t help but think of Ethan’s words: Everyone grieves differently, and maybe my parents and Jason needed distance, not closeness, to heal.

I sighed. It wasn’t the right time for a conversation like this, but daylight wouldn’t make it any easier. “I’m not against you taking Amy’s room. Some day. But your question yesterday caught me off guard. I didn’t think we were at that stage yet. And when Dad said we could donate her things—it was just too much for me.”

Jason took a step towards me. For a moment, it looked as though he might hug me, but something held him back. “We wouldn’t donate everything. But keeping her old underwear is hardly going to help us get over her death.”

“We probably shouldn’t donate them either,” I said, managing a faint smile. It felt crooked and awkward, but it was still a smile, and Jason returned it.

“No, they’d be better off in the bin.”

We fell silent for a moment.

“I’m sorry for running off yesterday and not getting in touch sooner,” I said at last. Thinking about it now, it had been pretty selfish to leave my family in the dark last night, especially after what had happened to Amy. “I was upset, and I wasn’t really thinking straight. I’ll let you know where I am next time. I promise.”

“Or you could just not run off,” Jason suggested.

“I can’t promise that.”

“And I thought I was the melodramatic teenager in this house.”

I snorted. Jason was anything but melodramatic. He was thoughtful and level-headed. He got that from our dad, who never lost his temper and always kept a clear head, a useful skill for a heart surgeon. “Do you think Mum and Dad are really mad at me?”

“No. They’re just glad you’re OK.” Jason shifted uneasily from foot to foot, then asked quietly, “Are you OK though?”

“No.”

“Me neither.”

When I saw the tears in his eyes, mine welled up too. He lowered his head, trying to hide his grief from me, but he couldn’t do it. It filled the entire room, seeping into every nook and cranny. I took a step towards him, and suddenly, for the first time in weeks, we were hugging. I buried my face in Jason’s shoulder as he sobbed quietly into my hair, clinging to me.

The embrace didn’t take my pain away as Ethan’s had done, but it reminded me that I wasn’t alone in grieving Amy. And maybe that was just as important.

19

Don’t let Rose make you feel bad.

You had such a shitty start to the year.

You deserve to have some fun.

Message from Kate to Grace

Grace

I took one last deep breath before holding the key card to the reader on Ethan’s door. The familiar click of the lock sounded, and I pushed the door open. I didn’t know if he would be home. He hadn’t been there yesterday because of his dad’s trial, but today was Saturday, and he didn’t have uni or court.

The mere thought of seeing him again after our night in the pool made my heart leap into my throat, while the rest of my body tingled at the bittersweet memory. The sceptical part of me was still waiting to feel regret, but it never came. I was satisfied and grateful for the time we’d spent together, which had taken my worries away for a few hours. That kind of distraction was just what I’d needed—and still did.

As soon as I stepped into the penthouse, I heard Ethan. From his home gym came the muffled sound of footsteps on a springy surface. He was on the treadmill. I briefly considered letting him know I was there but decided against it. Things shouldn’t be any different between us, let alone awkward. It was best for everything to stay just as it was—only with the occasional additional hookup, if Ethan was up for it.

I parked my cleaning trolley and the hoover in the flat and got to work, even though there was shockingly little for me to do. I started in the bedroom with the adjoining master bathroom, since Ethan would probably want to shower after his workout. The thought alone conjured images of us standing naked together under the water while I returned yesterday’s favour. I shook my head vigorously to dispel the fantasy, which would only get me in trouble.

After wiping down the porcelain, polishing the metal, and removing smudges from the glass, I made Ethan’s bed. I headed for the open-plan kitchen with the empty glass from his bedside table and loaded it into the dishwasher along with the shaker that still held the last dregs of a protein shake. Then I turned my attention to the living room.

Just as I was plumping the sofa cushions, the door to the gym opened, and Ethan stepped into the room. He had his headphones on and was staring at his phone, so he didn’t notice me right away. It gave me the chance to admire his athletic body. He was wearing only his trainers and a pair of tight running shorts. It wasn’t until my cleaning trolley was blocking his way that he looked up. His gaze darted around the room before landing on me. My heart, which had been beating far too fast in anticipation of seeing him again, froze in my chest, as if time itself had stopped between us.

One second.

Two seconds.