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Ethan: I know you want space, but I need to see you tonight before the wedding. Please give me a chance to explain.
Chapter 33: Ethan
I was six shots deep into a vodka-fueled night, desperate to see Sasha. London, vibrant and alive, seemed to resonate with her presence as soon as my flight touched down.
Memories of our previous visit clung to the city, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was nearby, urging me to look for her in every bar we entered. It didn’t help when we passed the tiny street café where she’d shared her fucked up story with me, months ago. Now, all I could think about was how our time together would likely be added into her list of fucked up stories.
Against my advice, Ryan, my soon-to-be-wed best friend, insisted on exploring London’s nightlife on his last night as a single man. After just two bars, we were both slurring our words, huddled in the back of a bar with shot glasses and beer food, surrounded by our friends.
“She still cares about you, you know,” Ryan had said earlier, his arm draped around me. “Ella asked me when you were going to pull your head out of your ass and make things right with her.”
I sighed, “I’m in love with her, man.” Acknowledging my feelings no longer felt hard, but I was still paralyzed by fear of the potential harm I could cause her once again. Thankfully, Ryan informed me she hadn’t brought a date to the wedding. The thought of Sasha with another man would have driven me mad.
I pushed her away to protect her, asking for space in the hope she’d realize my past was more complicated than I’d even originally known. Yet, six shots deep in a city that glittered like her brown eyes, I couldn’t escape the realization of my own foolishness.
My phone pinged on the nearby table, and I eagerly swiped it open. Sasha had finally responded to my desperate plea.
Sasha: I’m at Ella’s. We’re drinking wine and watching movies. I can’t meet up with you. I promised I wouldn’t ditch her, and frankly, I don’t know if we should see each other anyways.
Ethan: Tell me when she goes to sleep. Please.
I watched the text go to read but received no immediate response. Five anxious minutes passed, and I suggested another round of shots to gain more liquid courage before I typed a second plea again.
Finally, a message appeared.
Sasha: Ok…
Well, at least it wasn’t a no.
The rest of the night blurred into a haze of booze and laughter, celebrating Ryan. However, I couldn’t shake my preoccupation, constantly checking my phone for missed messages indicating Ella had fallen asleep.
Around midnight, Ryan called it a night, and as we walked back to the hotel, my phone pinged as we reached the lobby.
Sasha: Not sure if you’re still out, Ella just fell asleep in her room if you wanted to come talk.
“Hey man, I’m going to stay out for a bit longer,” I called to Ryan, who was already in the elevator.
He grinned in his drunken haze. “Go get her, man,” pointing finger guns at me as the doors closed.
Hailing a cab, I provided Ella’s address, my heart pounding as we raced through the London streets. Stepping out, I quietly entered the building, knocking a gentle rap on the door of her flat, hoping not to wake the bride to be.
Sasha answered in nothing but a fitted, tight white tank top with no bra and striped low rider pajama pants. Her nipples showed through the thin fabric, and I couldn’t help hiding my gaze as they called to me to be touched.
“Sasha…” I spoke carefully as I stepped inside. “I need to talk to you.”
As I stepped inside Ella’s apartment, the air hung heavy with a mix of anticipation and nervous energy. The dim light cast a soft glow, accentuating the contours of her silhouette in the revealing pajamas.
My eyes involuntarily traced the delicate curve of her shoulders, feeling an undeniable pull toward the vulnerability she unknowingly displayed. I wondered if she realized just how much control her presence had over me. The amount of real-estate she took up in my mind the past few months.
“Sasha,” I began, my voice a measured combination of sincerity and uncertainty. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for weeks, even against my own advice. I thought about what I wanted to say the whole flight here. But when I touched down, it was like London itself was conspiring to remind me of you everywhere I looked.”
She looked at me, a mixture of nerves and curiosity in her eyes. I took a breath, my gaze locking with hers. “I’ve been a fool, Sasha. I thought I was ready to enter a relationship with you without focusing on the parts of me that were still unhealed.
"The truth is, when I received Jake's letter, it brought up all of the parts of me that I thought I could ignore. Things with my parents and Beth that I still needed closure on. Pushing you away — it was never about not wanting to be with you. It was about being terrified of how much I do want you, and the potential for my damaged pieces to hurt you in the process.
"I’ve been haunted by the fear of causing you pain, of repeating the mistakes of my past. I felt like I let Jake down and like I’d do it again, but this time to you. But tonight, surrounded by the echoes of our shared memories in this city, I can’t ignore the fact that I love you, Sasha. I love you more than the broken parts of me feared I could.”
The air hung still for a moment as my words settled between us. Sasha’s gaze softened, and her features shifted from surprise to a quiet understanding.
