Forward, Without Him Chapter 12

Forward, Without Him Chapter 12

That night, Ethan found a new Massachusetts number and sent me a very long text.
“Taylor, I know I was wrong. I should never have gotten involved with Lexi. I definitely should never have ruined your acceptance.”
“But I can’t do this without you. Do you remember junior year, that winter? There was a blizzard and the power went out. You used your phone flashlight to light up the AP Physics problems and walk me through them. I sat there just watching your face the whole time.”
“And during application season, every time you broke down crying from the stress, I was the one who’d take you for a drive to clear your head.”
“We went through all of that together. What I feel for you has never been fake.”
“Lexi was a mistake. I lost my mind for a second and she got to me.”
“Everyone makes mistakes. Can you give me one chance to make it right?”
I didn’t have the patience to finish reading. I blocked the new number and rolled over and went back to sleep.
Ethan. Maybe some of what you felt was real.
But whatever was real in it got ground down to nothing by the two of you and everything you chose to do.
He kept showing up over the next few days. Hovering. Following me around like something I couldn’t shake.
I didn’t bother pushing him away.
Because I knew someone was about to handle it for me.
Sure enough, it wasn’t long before it happened.
Ethan was trailing along behind me like usual when his phone went off hard, buzzing over and over.
He picked up.
“Hello, this is Ethan… What? The Dean of Students wants to see me? I’m not in New York right now, I took time off.”
“What do you mean I’m facing serious disciplinary charges and the school is moving toward a Disciplinary Hearing??”
He shot to his feet.
“Okay. I’m buying a flight back right now.”
He hung up. Looked at me with something panicked in his eyes.
“Taylor, something came up at my school. I have to go back.”
“Wait for me. Two days, I’ll be back.”
And then he was gone, half-running toward the street to catch a car.
I watched him go.
“Take care.”
“And please. Don’t come back.”