Chapter 12 – The Distance Between Us

The morning after their almost-confession, Sarah awoke feeling drained. Sleep had eluded her, and her thoughts were a tangled mess of what-ifs and unspoken words.

She had never been the type to run from her problems, but this… this was different. Ethan made her feel things she had long buried—things she wasn't sure she was ready for.

Pushing the thoughts aside, she forced herself out of bed, dressed, and made her way to the kitchen. She expected the usual quiet, but instead, the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air.

Ethan was already there, standing by the stove, flipping pancakes onto a plate.

Her heart stuttered. He had never been a morning person, nor had he ever cooked breakfast before. At least, not that she'd seen.

She hovered in the doorway, uncertain.

Ethan glanced up, his expression unreadable. "Morning."

Sarah forced a small smile. "Morning."

He gestured to the plate on the counter. "I made extra."

She hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward. "Thanks."

She took a seat at the island, keeping her focus on her plate. The silence between them was thick—not tense, but loaded.

Ethan broke it first. "Are we gonna talk about it?"

Sarah tensed. "Talk about what?"

His lips pressed into a thin line. "Come on, Sarah."

She exhaled, setting her fork down. "Ethan, last night was… a mistake."

Something flickered in his eyes, but he masked it quickly. "A mistake."

She nodded, though the word felt wrong on her tongue. "Yes."

Ethan leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. "You didn't seem to think that when it was happening."

Sarah's fingers tightened around the edge of her plate. "That's why it's dangerous. Because it's too easy."

Ethan let out a short, humorless laugh. "Since when is something being easy a bad thing?"

"Since it makes people reckless." She finally looked at him, her voice softer. "Since it makes people forget what's real and what's just… a moment."

His jaw tightened. "So, that's all it was? A moment?"

She wanted to say yes. She wanted to end this conversation and walk away before she said something she couldn't take back.

But she couldn't lie to him.

So instead, she whispered, "I don't know."

Ethan pushed off the counter, his movements slow and measured. He walked around the island until he stood right in front of her. "Then let's figure it out. Together."

Her breath caught. He was too close, his presence too overwhelming.

"I can't."

His brows furrowed. "Why not?"

"Because you'll leave." Her voice cracked, and she hated how vulnerable she sounded. "You'll leave, Ethan. And I'll be the one left to pick up the pieces."

Ethan's expression softened. "Sarah—"

She shook her head. "Your parents are coming back. This is temporary. Whatever this is, whatever we are—it won't last."

A beat of silence stretched between them. Then Ethan sighed, stepping back.

"That's what you think of me?" His voice was quiet, but there was an edge of something raw in it. "That I'll just walk away?"

Sarah didn't answer.

Because deep down, she wasn't sure if she believed it herself.

---

A Growing Distance

The next few days were different. Not awkward, but careful. Ethan gave Sarah space, and she took it, trying to convince herself that she had done the right thing.

But the truth sat heavy on her chest.

She missed him.

Missed their easy banter, the way he always found a way to make her laugh, the way he made the house feel… less empty.

And despite herself, she found her eyes lingering on him longer than they should.

Like now.

Ethan was in the living room, scrolling through his phone, his expression unreadable. He hadn't said much to her all day, and the silence was beginning to suffocate her.

She cleared her throat. "You okay?"

Ethan glanced up, surprised that she had spoken first. "Yeah. Just thinking."

Sarah hesitated, then sat on the opposite couch. "About?"

He gave her a small, tired smile. "Nothing you'd want to hear."

Her stomach twisted. "Ethan…"

He shook his head. "It's fine, Sarah. I get it."

Her heart squeezed. "Get what?"

"That you're scared."

She inhaled sharply. "I never said that."

"You didn't have to." He set his phone down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "I get it, okay? I do. But that doesn't mean I'm going anywhere."

Sarah searched his face, looking for any trace of doubt. But there was none.

He meant it.

And that terrified her more than anything.

---

A Late-Night Confession

That night, Sarah found herself lying awake again.

The house was quiet, but her mind was loud. Too loud.

She hated this—hated feeling so unsteady, so uncertain.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she slipped out of bed and walked to the balcony, hoping the night air would clear her thoughts.

But she wasn't alone.

Ethan was already there, leaning against the railing, a cigarette dangling between his fingers.

Sarah hesitated before stepping closer. "Didn't know you smoked."

Ethan smirked. "Only when I can't sleep."

She leaned against the railing beside him, staring at the stars. "What's keeping you up?"

He took a slow drag before exhaling. "You."

Sarah's breath hitched. "Ethan…"

"I'm done pretending," he said, turning to face her fully. "I like you, Sarah. And I know you feel something too."

She opened her mouth, but he shook his head.

"Don't say you don't," he murmured. "Just once, be honest."

Her heart pounded. The air between them was thick, heavy with unspoken words.

And before she could stop herself, she whispered, "I'm scared."

Ethan's expression softened. "I know."

She exhaled shakily. "I don't know how to do this."

He reached for her hand, his touch warm and steady. "Then let's figure it out. Together."

Sarah looked up at him, her walls crumbling piece by piece.

Maybe, just maybe, she didn't have to run anymore.

Maybe, for once, she could stay.