ETHAN
I open my eyes – it's finally night time, and I couldn't be more glad that I didn't return to the office. I rub my eyes tiredly and try to get up from the bed but then I pause – a noise from downstairs. It sounds like it's from the kitchen, like someone messing with my glass wares.
I force myself up from the bed and out of my room. The noise doesn't stop even as I make my way down the stairs. My housekeeper isn't here and Marcus wouldn't be in my kitchen. Who the hell is that?
"Elena?" I call out, shocked to see her in my kitchen. I wouldn't have been shocked if she hadn't dramatically broken up with me the other night.
She looks up at me, takes a brief pause before continuing what she's doing – washing my dishes.
"What are you doing here?" I ask her.
"Is it that unobvious? I'm doing your dishes," she replies flatly. Typical Elena.
"That's not what I mean. Why are you-"
"Why did you discharge Moth? I really liked her, the best housekeeper you've had this year," she says, cutting me short.
Now I'm more confused. Why is she in my house, washing my dishes and trying to act like she hadn't broken up with me a night ago?
"You haven't had dinner, have you?" She asks, smiling sheepishly at me.
And why is she all of a sudden nice? Too nice
"What is this Elena? You broke up with me," I tell her, hoping I could put a stop to her madness.
"That's a heavy word, Ethan, it's too blunt. I was just out of it, frustrated and tired from work and everything. Was that why you refused to pick up my call?"
"How did you even get in?"
She chuckles, "I have your spare key, forgotten?"
"You texted that you left it here."
"True. But I have your spare spare-key," now I conclude that she has gone nuts. "Oh so you saw my text and ignored. Ethan you really are something" she chuckles again.
"Are you being serious right now? We're going to pretend the other night didn't happen?"
"I already explained it to you, Ethan let's not do this please" she wipes her hand on the kitchen towel, drops it on the counter and slowly walk up to me.
"Baby, you looked disheveled. Your nap didn't go well?"
I say nothing, and just stare at the blonde woman touching my face.
"I'm sorry okay? You know how cranky I get when I'm distressed. You know I didn't mean any of what I said yesterday. I love you, Ethan" she plants a soft kiss on my lips, and I watch her smile widely.
Her hand moves from my face to my chest, and it does little to reduce the annoyance I had for her earlier. She's really good at this – whatever it is she intends to do. She kisses me again and I find myself reciprocating. I feel nothing while kissing her, I always feel nothing but I try to flow with her touches – probably hoping I would feel something soon. But nothing.
I pull away and sigh.
I watch her facial expression change, this is what she always complained about. Not like I hate touching her, I just don't feel anything.
"What?" she asks, the tone in her voice indicating disappointment.
"I'm just not really in the mood," I try to walk away but she holds me back.
"Just try, you can set the mood. Ethan, we have to make this work if we're going to get married"
Her hand reaches for my waistline. She's close now — too close — her perfume filling the space, sweet and sharp like memory.
"Ethan," she says softly, her voice shifting, gentler now. "We can fix this. You just need to let me in again."
For a moment, I almost want to. Not because I believe her, but because it's easier than feeling nothing at all. Her eyes search mine, desperate for a reaction I can't seem to give her.
She rises on her toes, brushing her lips against my jaw — slow, deliberate, rehearsed. I stand still, letting her, the way someone lets a storm pass.
"Elena…" I say finally, my voice low, steady. "We can't keep pretending everything's fine with us – with me."
Her fingers tighten around my shirt, her voice trembling now. "Well I can't just let you go."
The words hang In the air, heavy with all the things we both know but won't say — that maybe she already has, and maybe I never really belonged to her in the first place.
I take a slow breath, step back just enough for space to exist between us again. Her expression flickers — confusion, hurt, pride.
"Ethan," she whispers, "you used to try.
"I did," I admit quietly.
"Then do so again," She drags me till her back rests on the kitchen counter, and I'm standing between her thighs. I could feel her yearn so badly for me.
I plant soft, slow kisses on her neck, gradually getting enticed by her every scent. I could slowly feel me want her too. She wants me to try, and I'm doing just that. My hand slides beneath her blouse and I feel her shiver with the touch of my hands on her bare skin. I take a pause and stare into her eye, hoping to see something that would probably make me want to yearn for her too – there was still nothing.
I try to distract myself by slipping my hands beneath her bra. Her hands rapidly make it's way around my neck, rubbing my back and nape. It felt kind of good. I slide my hand down her skirt and without hesitation, it finds its way into her panties. She moans softly, sexily.
One finger in, she doesn't make much movement.
Two fingers in, she shivers.
I make slow strokes in and out and I could feel her want more, so I make faster strokes.
"Fuck me right now, Ethan. Please don't back out again," she sobs, in overwhelming ecstasy.
And I do that.