Chapter 17: Cracks in the Armor

The fragile understanding between Ethan and Sarah held for the next few days, but the tension between them remained. It wasn't the awkward kind—it was charged, filled with something unspoken yet undeniable. They moved through the house like two magnets, drawn together even when they tried to keep their distance.

Ethan had never been the kind of guy to overthink things. If he wanted something, he went after it. But Sarah—Sarah made him hesitate. He wanted to be careful, to let her come to him in her own time, but every moment they spent together made that harder.

It was a Saturday afternoon when the walls between them began to crack again. Sarah had taken the day to deep-clean the house, a habit Ethan had noticed she fell into when she needed to distract herself. She moved through the rooms with determined focus, scrubbing, dusting, organizing—anything to keep her hands busy.

Ethan found her in the living room, kneeling by the coffee table as she wiped down its surface. Strands of hair had slipped from her ponytail, framing her face, and there was a faint crease in her brow.

"You know, this place is already spotless," he remarked, leaning against the doorway.

Sarah didn't look up. "There's always something that can be cleaner."

Ethan crossed his arms. "Or you just don't want to sit still long enough to think."

That made her pause. Slowly, she sat back on her heels, finally meeting his gaze. "And if I don't?"

"Then maybe I should help you stop running," he said, his voice steady but gentle.

Sarah let out a soft laugh, though there was no humor in it. "Ethan, I don't think you understand how hard it is for me to let my guard down."

He walked over and crouched in front of her, close enough that she could feel the heat of his presence. "Then tell me. Help me understand."

She hesitated, looking down at the rag in her hands. "Every time I've let someone in, it's ended in disappointment. People leave, Ethan. They say they'll stay, but they don't."

He exhaled, his expression softening. "I'm not them, Sarah."

Her chest tightened. "And what happens when you go back to your life? When your parents return, and you don't need to be here anymore?"

Ethan hadn't thought that far ahead, but now that she had voiced it, he realized something—he didn't want to leave. The idea of walking away from Sarah, from the life they were unknowingly building in this house, felt wrong.

"I don't know what's going to happen," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "But I know that I don't want this—" he gestured between them "—to just disappear when that time comes."

Sarah's fingers tightened around the cloth she was holding, her heart hammering. "Ethan..."

He reached out, brushing his knuckles against her cheek. "I mean it, Sarah. I don't want to be just another person who walks away."

Something inside her cracked then, just a little. She swallowed, nodding slowly. "Okay."

Ethan studied her for a moment before a small smile touched his lips. "Okay?"

She let out a shaky breath. "Okay."

It wasn't a grand declaration, nor was it a promise set in stone. But it was something. A step forward.

Later That Night

The house was quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the wind outside. Sarah sat curled up on the couch, her feet tucked under her as she sipped a cup of tea. The warmth spread through her, but it did little to ease the knot in her chest.

She hadn't meant to open up to Ethan like that. It had just... happened. And now, all she could think about was how easily he had looked at her, how gently he had touched her face. It scared her—how much she wanted to trust him, how much she already did.

Footsteps echoed from the hallway, and moments later, Ethan appeared, a book in hand. "Couldn't sleep?"

Sarah shook her head. "Just... thinking."

He didn't ask what about. Instead, he sat on the opposite end of the couch, flipping the book open but not reading it. He glanced at her over the pages. "Are you regretting talking to me earlier?"

She hesitated before answering. "No. But it's a lot to process."

"I get that." He leaned back, resting an arm along the back of the couch. "You don't have to figure it all out tonight."

Sarah stared into her cup. "I just don't know if I'm capable of letting someone in all the way."

Ethan studied her for a long moment. Then, with careful movements, he reached over and took her free hand in his. His thumb traced soft circles against her skin.

"You don't have to do it all at once," he murmured. "One step at a time."

Sarah looked at their hands, at the way his fingers wrapped around hers. She felt the warmth of his touch, the steady comfort of his presence.

And for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't alone in this.