Chapter 14 – The Walls Between Us

Sarah had spent her entire life building walls, carefully stacking each brick to protect herself from the disappointments and heartbreaks the world so easily handed out. But now, for the first time, she felt those walls cracking, crumbling under the weight of something she wasn't ready to name.

And it terrified her.

She had told Ethan she didn't know how to do this.

He had said they'd figure it out together.

But could she really trust that?

Could she trust him?

The questions haunted her long after she left the living room, long after the warmth of his hand had faded from her skin.

---

Running from the Unavoidable

For the next few days, Sarah fell back into old habits—avoiding, retreating, pretending.

She kept herself busy, waking up earlier than usual and throwing herself into chores that didn't need doing. She scrubbed floors that were already spotless, rearranged cabinets that were perfectly fine, and spent far too much time in the garden, losing herself in the dirt.

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't escape Ethan.

Because he was there. Always.

Watching her with those unreadable eyes.

Standing too close, saying too little.

And yet, never pushing. Never forcing her to talk.

Just waiting.

And somehow, that was worse.

Because it meant he wasn't giving up on her.

And deep down, she wasn't sure if she wanted him to.

---

A Late-Night Encounter

It was past midnight when Sarah finally gave up on sleep.

She had been tossing and turning for hours, her mind a mess of tangled thoughts. The house was quiet, the kind of silence that made everything feel heavier.

Sighing, she slipped out of bed, wrapping a sweater around herself as she padded softly toward the kitchen. Maybe some tea would help.

But as she entered the dimly lit space, she stopped short.

Ethan was already there.

He was leaning against the counter, a glass of whiskey in his hand, his gaze lost in the darkness outside the window. The soft glow of the under-cabinet lights cast shadows across his face, making him look almost… tired.

For a moment, Sarah considered turning around. Pretending she hadn't seen him.

But then he spoke.

"Can't sleep?"

His voice was low, rough around the edges.

Sarah hesitated before stepping inside. "Something like that."

Ethan took a slow sip of his drink, then set the glass down. "Same."

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words.

She moved to the stove, setting a kettle on to boil. "Whiskey doesn't help?"

Ethan let out a soft chuckle. "Helps me think."

Sarah glanced at him over her shoulder. "And what are you thinking about?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned to face her fully, his gaze steady.

"You."

Her breath caught.

The kettle's soft whistle filled the space, but neither of them moved.

Sarah swallowed hard, forcing her voice to stay even. "Ethan…"

"I know," he said quietly, stepping closer. "You don't have to say it."

But she did.

She had to.

Because if she didn't, she wasn't sure where this night would lead.

"I don't know how to be what you need," she admitted, gripping the edge of the counter like it could ground her.

Ethan studied her for a long moment, then sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You really think I have this all figured out?"

Sarah blinked. "Don't you?"

That made him laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Sarah, I have spent my whole life pretending I don't care about anything. That nothing and no one could get to me. And then you came along."

She opened her mouth, but he wasn't done.

"You're the first person who's ever made me want more. And yeah, that scares the hell out of me." He took a step closer, his voice softer now. "But it's worth it. You're worth it."

Sarah's heart pounded.

She wanted to believe him.

God, she wanted to.

But how could she?

How could she trust something that felt too good to be real?

"You don't know that," she whispered.

Ethan reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Yeah, I do."

And then he did something that shattered every last piece of her resistance.

He cupped her face in his hands—gently, like she was something fragile. Like she was something he didn't want to break.

Sarah sucked in a shaky breath, her fingers tightening around the counter. "Ethan, I—"

"Shh," he murmured. "Just let me hold you."

And for the first time in years, she did.

---

Letting Go

They stayed like that for what felt like forever, wrapped in a silence that was no longer heavy, but comforting.

And when Ethan finally pulled back, his hands falling away, Sarah immediately felt the loss.

She cleared her throat, needing to break the tension. "So… what now?"

Ethan smirked, but there was something softer behind it. "Now, you drink your tea, and I finish my whiskey."

Sarah let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "That's not what I meant."

He nodded, his expression growing serious again. "I know." He leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "I won't push you, Sarah. But I'm not going anywhere."

Her throat tightened. "And if I never figure this out?"

Ethan held her gaze, unwavering. "Then I'll wait."

The sincerity in his voice nearly broke her.

She didn't know what she had done to deserve someone like him.

Maybe she didn't.

But for once, she didn't want to run from it.

Didn't want to run from him.

Sarah exhaled, a slow, measured breath.

"Okay."

It was just one word.

But as Ethan's lips curled into a slow, knowing smile, she knew it was the start of something much bigger.

Something she wasn't ready for.

Something she wanted anyway.