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Maeve could see the guilt seeping in. She could see it because she’d experienced it herself. “Ethan,” she said. “It wasn’t your fault.”
He gave her a look. “It wasn’t my fault?” he asked, slightly louder than was polite. “You nearly died and it wasn’t my fault? I was right there, Maeve.” He shook his head. “I was right there and instead of seeing what was going on and keeping my promise, I rode by on a wave like I was some celebrity or something.”
Maeve bit her lip and paused the words that wanted to gush out. The waiter was back with their meals, and the timing was uncomfortable to say the least.
“Can I get you anything else?” he asked, looking a little hesitant.
“No. We’re fine,” Maeve answered, keeping an eye on Ethan’s glower.
The waiter nodded, then scurried away, probably assuming his tip had just disappeared.
“Ethan,” she said softly, drawing his attention. Once again, Maeve initiated a touch and reached for his arm. “Can we please try to set this aside for a moment? You’ve treated us both to a wonderful meal and while we should hash this out, maybe let’s wait until we’re out of here?” She begged him with her eyes, pleading for him to understand that she didn’t want their talk to be public.
Ethan finally softened. “Okay,” he whispered. “Eat up. Then we can walk the Boardwalk if you still want to have anything to do with me.”
“Thank you,” Maeve replied. Her fish was probably delicious, but Maeve wouldn’t know. She was too caught up in watching the emotions play over Ethan’s face and dreading the upcoming conversation.
It’s already started, she told herself. It’s time to finish it. You said yourself that it needed to happen. Who cares if it came earlier than you thought?
“Freedom,” she whispered to herself as a reminder. Estelle had helped her see that’s what she was truly fighting for here. The freedom to choose. To choose to be with Ethan, or not. To choose to love him, or not. To choose to be afraid, or not.
You can’t experience anything until you’ve experienced its opposite, Estelle had counseled. In order to understand your right to be free, you have to know what it’s like to be caged. You caught yourself in a trap of hurt and pain and have been stuck ever since. If you’d let yourself feel just a little deeper, then you’d find yourself on the way to being free.
“What was that?” Ethan asked. He hadn’t eaten much either, merely moved his food around his plate.
“Nothing,” Maeve murmured. “Just reminding myself of something.”
Ethan threw down his fork. “I can’t eat.”
Maeve nodded. “Come on.” She stood and found their waiter, slipping her credit card into his hand. “We need to go ASAP. Can you get us checked out quickly please?”
The young man nodded quickly. “Right away, ma’am.”
Ethan’s eyebrows were practically touching by the time Maeve got back to the table. “I saw that.”
“I’ll let you pay when we actually eat the meal,” she said firmly. “I don’t want to waste my big date on a night where I ruined our appetites.”
“Miss?”
Maeve turned and took her card and the receipt. “Thank you,” she said. “We’ll be gone in just a moment.”
The waiter nodded and disappeared again.
Maeve bent over, signed on a generous tip and then took Ethan’s hand. “Let’s go. We’ll both feel better when we figure this out.”
To his credit, Ethan didn’t fight her, just followed her out the doors. She tugged him down the sidewalk a little ways before slowing their pace. “I have some more to say and I need you to hear it before you argue with me.”
Ethan sighed. “Of course.”
Maeve’s heart was about to break through her chest; it was beating so hard. She needed to be able to tell him what had happened without hurting him further, but she wasn’t sure how to do that. “I was hurt,” she stated.
Ethan snorted, but Maeve continued on.
“I was hurt because I chose to be hurt,” she emphasized. “I had a hard time emotionally from the near death experience and instead of dealing with it, I let it consume me. I wallowed in the fear and what I felt was betrayal and it’s...it’s cost me a lot of my life,” she finished softly.
“Maeve,” Ethan whispered. He stopped their forward progress and pulled on her hand until she turned to face him. “This is my fault, not yours. I should have noticed you were in distress. I should have been there. I said I would and I wasn’t.”
Maeve shook her head. “You’re not God, Ethan. You aren’t perfect and neither am I. The fact that you didn’t notice I was having trouble wasn’t your fault and I should never have blamed you.” She put a hand on her chest. “I can’t tell you that I’m not still struggling, because that would be a complete lie. I’m still terrified of the ocean and haven’t been in over my knees since the incident, but...” She tried to fill her stiff lungs and moved forward until they were toe to toe. “But I’m tired of living the way I’ve been living. I’m surrounded by people, but still alone. I’m scared of water like a little child, and like that same toddler, I put the blame of the situation somewhere it didn’t belong.” She shook her head. “Just because you were there didn’t mean you were to blame. An inexperienced surfer in rough waters was to blame, and I’m ...I’m sorry.”
“Mae,” Ethan said again. “This isn’t on you.”
“It is,” she insisted. “Estelle is helping me see that. And I had started to come to the understanding on my own, but her tough love has made it easier,” Maeve said with a little laugh. She turned away. “The problem was never you...you were just convenient and I’m mortified that it’s taken me eight years to understand that.” She looked back, but his face was blurry with her tears. “I’m so sorry, Ethan. I’m sorry I turned you away. I’m sorry for all the rude things I said. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you were hurting and when your parents passed away...I’m just...sorry.” Her voice broke at the end and a sob climbed through her throat.
“Mae,” Ethan croaked. He pulled her into his chest and Maeve buried her face against his sternum. “You’re killing me. Don’t you know what a woman’s tears do to a man?”
“Not really,” Maeve said through a tight chuckle. She wrapped her arms around his chest and clung like a barnacle. “Antonio wasn’t exactly the touchy feely type.”
Ethan’s arms tightened. “That’s because he’s a wimp,” Ethan teased.
Maeve smiled before becoming serious again. “I’m serious though, Ethan. I really am sorry. I’ve been so childish.”
“I’m sorry too,” he whispered, his face buried in her hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t work harder to find out what was wrong. I’m sorry I didn’t see you were hurting. I’m sorry I took you out there to begin with.”
Maeve let herself simply rest in his embrace for a few more moments. The evening was cool, but his arms were warm and Maeve had never felt so safe as she did in that moment. “Where do we go from here?” she finally whispered.
Ethan leaned back and cupped her cheeks, forcing Maeve to look up. “If you’ll let me,” he said carefully, “I’m hoping we move forward.” His thumbs rubbed over her cheek bones. “I’ve missed so much time with you and I don’t want to waste another second.”
She watched carefully, but as far as Maeve could tell, his request was completely sincere. Somehow, this amazing man was willing to let go of eight years of hurt and pain as if it never existed. It’s time to reciprocate. “I’d like that,” she said. The tension between them tightened and Maeve found herself leaning slightly forward.
Emotionally spent, her heart and brain were now caught on only one thing, and it involved a set of lips resting only a few inches from her own.
*****
YOU WERE GOING TO WAIT. You were going to wait...Ethan needed someone to knock some sense into him. He was supposed to be taking this slow. Showing her he could be trusted. The truth had been so much worse than he’d ever expected and now he knew he didn’t deserve her on top of it all, yet here she was, her eyes half closed, attention on his mouth. The pull between them felt like a siren’s call and he was trying to figure out whether or not he should be a gentleman.
His hands flexed against her waist. Could he? Should he? This was everything he’d been waiting for...
Maeve pulled back slightly, a wounded expression in her eyes, mixed with embarrassment. He’d seen that high color on her cheeks enough to know what it meant. She turned slightly sideways, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear in a shaky gesture.
You caused that.
Guilt swamped his belly and Ethan knew it was now or never. “Gentlemen are overrated,” he muttered, jerking Maeve forward and planting his mouth on hers.
She squeaked slightly in surprise, but quickly settled in.
If an angel came down from heaven and began playing a trumpet in his ear, Ethan was positive he wouldn’t notice. Maeve’s hands slipped up his chest and linked behind his neck, pulling him slightly lower, closer to her level.
Wrapping his own arms tighter, he pulled her farther up until he knew she was on her tiptoes trying to keep up with him. Over and over, with near frantic movements, he tried to show her how he felt. This moment had been far too long in the making and Ethan was having a hard time reining himself in. He wanted her...all of her. He wanted her forgiveness, her time, her attention, her kisses...her love.
Slowly, his desperation began to subside and their ardor began to slow. With one final lingering press of his lips, Ethan pulled back just enough to speak. “If that’s how it goes, I think everyone should wait eight years before they kiss,” he said in a husky tone.
Maeve laughed lightly and shook her head. “No. Because it means I could have already had eight years worth of kisses in my Ethan bank.”
He leaned back a little farther, unable to help the smirk. “Ethan bank?” he asked, his eyebrows rising high. “I like the sound of that.”
Maeve gave him a flirty smile and ran her fingers over the back of his neck. “Yeah? I just invented it.”
“And what do you plan to keep in it?”
She rose up again until their mouths were barely not touching. “Kisses. Lots and lots of kisses.”
“Let me help you with that,” he whispered before bringing them together again. These kisses were much more under control, but for some reason, Ethan found that they touched him on a deeper level. This wasn’t a burst of hormones that had been bound for too long, this was two people who had feelings for each other that were deeper than simply physical attraction and were acknowledging that in a way only couples could.
There was no way to know how long they’d been holding onto each other by the time Ethan forced himself to pull back. “I should probably get you home,” he said when she shivered in his arms.
Maeve tucked her forehead into his neck and burrowed into his chest. “It’s not supposed to be this cold yet.”
He let his arms surround her. “If I had my way, we’d never have winter.”
“I’m guessing that’s the surfer side of you speaking.”
Ethan shrugged. “Something like that. I surf in the winter though.”
Maeve pulled back. “Yeah...because you’re crazy.”
Ethan grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. “Crazy for you.”
Maeve rolled her eyes. “That was cheesy.”
“And yet you loved it.” Ethan stepped back and took her hand, walking them back to the car.
“Are you sure about that?” Maeve asked archly.
“Yep.” Ethan opened the door for her. “Don’t forget how long I’ve known you, Little Mae. I’ve had enough time watching from the sidelines to know exactly what type of humor you enjoy.”
Her smile fell. “I really am sorry,” she said softly.
Ethan stepped around the door and crowded her against the side of the car. “No more,” he said, shaking his head. “I owe you more apologies than I can ever repay and if you’re willing to forgive me, then how can I do anything but the same?” He leaned down until their foreheads were touching. “I never held a grudge,” he whispered thickly, then cleared his throat. “I knew there had to be something I had missed, I just didn’t know what.” He sighed. “I could never have imagined how bad it was.”
Her hand came up to cup his cheek and she pushed until he leaned back enough for them to look into each other’s eyes. “I didn’t want anyone to know,” she admitted. “I...” Maeve shook her head. “I don’t even know. I was so scared that I just kept it all to myself.” With a sigh she dropped her hand and turned to the side. “But now I’m beginning to understand that if I had simply talked about it, I could have avoided so much heartache...for both of us.”
“Enough,” he said firmly. “We’re starting over. Yes, we have a past, but it doesn’t have to define our future.” He gave her a look. “And there will be a future for us. We owe it to ourselves to have one...a good one.”
She smiled. “Okay.” She gave him one last little peck before slipping into her seat.
Ethan shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side. After starting the car, he pulled out. Once settled on the highway, he reached over and took Maeve’s hand, feeling ridiculously proud that for the first time, he actually had the right to do so. He’d grabbed her hands many times over the years, but it was always to push her boundaries, to try and get her attention... Tthis time it was simply because he wanted to touch her, and because he could touch her.
The ride was quiet, but not uncomfortable. They’d said enough for the evening and he loved that she was just as content to sit and enjoy each other’s company as he was. Their entwined fingers sat on his thigh and Ethan could have died a happy man. Instead of dying, however, he found his mind drawn back to his business.
He’d meant it when he told Maeve they deserved a future and in his mind, he already knew he wanted this to be a long term one. There was no way his feelings had been this strong for this long if it didn’t mean the two of them were meant to be together forever. Ethan wanted what his parents had while they were alive and what her parents still had now. The love, the family, the teasing...all of it.
Now that Maeve was willing to forgive and move forward, he hoped he would have all that with her.
But you have to be able to make a living first.
And there was the hold up. He couldn’t plan for a future with Maeve if he had no way to support her. It didn’t matter if Maeve worked after they were married, Ethan was determined to bring home enough money to take care of her and any children they might be blessed with. The pressure to save his surf shop grew a little heavier on his shoulders.
Surfing was what he knew and he really wanted to keep doing it if at all possible. I’m just gonna have to work harder, he decided. There was nothing else for it. He’d have to really dig in and drum up the business he needed. He’d already failed Maeve once. He wasn’t going to do it again.