A SHELTER FROM THE STORM

Chapter 20: Shelter From the Storm

(Ethan & Riley – A Thunderstorm, a Cabin, and the Ghost of What They Used to Be)

Ethan – Present

The storm was getting worse.

The wind howled through the trees, rain pounding against the earth, turning dirt into mud and branches into weapons.

Ethan had been in plenty of storms before.

But never like this.

Never with her.

Never with memories clawing at the edges of his mind, reminding him of everything he was supposed to forget.

"Ethan," Riley shouted over the wind. "We have to—"

A sudden crack of thunder shook the ground.

Riley flinched.

Ethan felt it before he saw it.

The way her shoulders tensed.

The way her breath hitched.

The way she tried to hide it.

Because Riley Carter still hated thunderstorms.

And Ethan still knew that.

Just like he still knew that, when they were kids, she used to climb through his window during storms just to feel safe.

Just like he still knew that, for years, he had been the one to hold her hand under the blankets, whispering dumb jokes to distract her from the thunder.

But now?

Now, she stood there, alone in the rain, pretending she wasn't afraid.

And he was supposed to pretend he didn't care.

Ethan exhaled. Turned away.

"There's a cabin up ahead," he muttered, pushing forward. "Let's go."

Riley – Present

The second they stepped inside, the silence hit her.

The cabin was small. Just one room. A fireplace, a wooden bench, and a pile of dusty blankets.

It wasn't much, but it was dry.

Safe.

At least, it should have been.

But standing this close to Ethan?

It didn't feel safe at all.

He was drenched, hoodie clinging to him, hair messy and damp, hands clenched into tight fists like he was barely holding himself together.

Like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

And maybe that shouldn't have hurt.

But it did.

Because two years ago, being trapped in a cabin with Ethan Hayes would have been the safest place in the world.

Now?

Now, she wasn't sure he'd even notice if she disappeared.

Thunder rumbled outside.

She swallowed. "So, uh. This is fun."

Ethan didn't answer.

Just walked to the fireplace, kneeling down to light a fire.

Because of course he knew how to do that.

Because of course he was calm, like this wasn't breaking her apart.

Riley exhaled, hugging her arms to herself.

She hated this.

Not the storm.

Not the cabin.

The distance.

The thousands of miles between them, even when they were standing in the same room.

She looked down at her hands. "Do you ever think about it?"

Ethan didn't move. "About what?"

"This." She lifted her head. Met his gaze. "Us."

His jaw tightened. "There is no us."

That hurt.

She let out a small, humorless laugh. "Right. Forgot."

He turned back to the fire.

And Riley?

Riley felt everything unravel.

Two years.

Two years of silence.

Two years of pretending.

Two years of knowing she had let him go when she should have held on.

She had spent so long convincing herself it wasn't her fault.

But maybe it was.

Maybe it always had been.

"Ethan."

This time, his name came out soft.

Not sharp. Not defensive.

Just real.

He went still.

She swallowed. "I'm sorry."

Ethan's shoulders tensed.

Like he had been expecting anything but that.

Like he wasn't sure what to do with it.

And when he finally turned to face her—really face her—she saw it.

The hurt.

The anger.

The way he had spent years building walls around something that never really left.

And for the first time since they walked into this cabin, Ethan Hayes didn't look indifferent.

He looked wrecked.

Riley took a step closer.

She didn't even know why.

Didn't even know what she was hoping for.

But then—

Ethan took a step back.

Like touching her would undo something.

Like letting her in would be more dangerous than the storm outside.

Riley's breath caught.

Ethan shook his head, quiet but sharp.

"No, Riley."

And just like that—

The distance between them doubled.

Again.

Ethan – Present

The fire crackled.

Riley didn't say anything else.

And Ethan?

Ethan stared at the flames, forcing himself not to look at her.

Because if he did?

If he let himself see how broken she looked?

He might forget why he built these walls in the first place.

And forgetting?

Forgetting would be the worst thing of all.