When I woke up I saw that there was a space next to me that was empty.
It wasn't cold.
Just... empty.
I stared at the ceiling for a second and wondered if all the events of the previous night had been a dream. The tenderness. The quiet laughter. How he'd regarded me like I wasn't a responsibility or a contract, but just... Grace.
I then smelt his cologne in the pillow.
So, it was reality.
A little smile appeared on my face.
Perhaps Harper was correct.
Perhaps he did in fact mean to try?
I was able to locate him in the kitchen.
Already he was dressed in charcoal suit, sleeves buttoned to perfection and tie was immacate. He propped his phone to his ear and his laptop had three numbers that seemed to be financial reports.
The Ethan Blackwood of the world was back.
He put the meeting for acquisition on hold at eleven, he said into the phone. No, I don't care if they're coming in from London, they'll adapt."
His speech was somewhat stunted.
Professional.
Emotionless.
I walked through the door and he lifted his head for a split-second.
"Morning."
Just one word.
No smile.
No warmth.
No signs of the man who had held me close just a few hours ago.
I said 'Morning' with a cautious response.
He hung up on the phone and opened a new email message.
I waited.
Nothing.
He didn't even ask, "How did you sleep?
No eye glance, no matter how brief.
Last night seemed to be neatly folded and put in a drawer marked Do Not Discuss.
I tried to suppress the disappointment that had been building up inside me and squeezed myself a glass of orange juice.
I thought that we could share breakfast together.
"I'm running late."
"Oh."
He took his little briefcase.
I will have Maria bring lunch over.
"I can prepare my own lunch.
"I know."
He didn't offend her.
It was just... far away.
Painfully distant.
"Did something happen?"
Before I could keep it back, it croaked out.
He lifted his eyes from fastening his watch.
"What do you mean?"
I laughed once, though there wasn't any humor in it.
"I mean... yesterday."
He glared at her with a blank look.
"What about yesterday?"
I stared at him.
Was he serious?
"The kiss."
Silence.
How they talked.
More silence.
I swallowed, "The way we finally…". "Connected."
His jaw was stiff.
It was a pleasant evening.
A pleasant evening?
My heart dropped.
"That's all?"
He rubbed his nose and his forehead.
"Grace, I have a whole day ahead of me.
"So do I."
I don't mean that we have to dissect everything, I'm saying that.
I didn't want an analysis, I said.
I took a quick breath of air.
I asked the question, 'What does it mean?'.
His eyes met mine.
There was a conflict there for a very short time.
It was then behind the familiar mask.
I think we're both emotional at the moment, I think,
There it was.
Flawless corporate reply.
Safe.
Measured.
Empty.
There was something inside of me that broke.
"So that's it?"
He frowned.
I never said that!
"You didn't have to."
I folded my arms on my chest.
Last night you looked at me like I mattered.
"You do matter."
So, why are you acting like it didn't?
"I'm not."
It's like you are.
His shoulders stiffened.
I can't do this, Grace, I have responsibilities!
But I'm one of them?"
His eyes flashed.
"That's not fair."
"No?"
I laughed again.
"I feel like it's so just and equitable from my perspective.
He opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
No words came.
His silence was loud.
"I understand now."
My voice was so calm.
Understanding: "What do you understand?
I allowed myself to think that there was some change.
"It has."
"Has it?"
I pointed at him.
All I see is the same man who hides behind meetings and schedules when something happens when it's real.
His face grimaced angrily.
"I'm trying."
"I know."
The bad news was...
I believed him.
He *was* trying.
However, it wasn't the same as if a person attempted but failed.
"And perhaps," I whispered, "you're doing as much as you can."
He looked somewhat less serious.
But now," I went on, my voice breaking on the words, "it hurts.
I ran away before he could witness their fall.
I heard a few moments later the front door closing.
No goodbye.
No kiss.
He never promised me that he would ever get up to me.
Only the sound of the lock making a quiet click.
The penthouse was suddenly huge once again.
Cold again.
I went into the nursery, and sat in a rocking chair that we had built.
The walls that we'd painted together with a pale blue seemed far away.
In my belly, I placed my hand.
I whispered, "I was foolish, little life within me.
I thought beautiful night meant that we have finally found each other.
A little fluttering was heard under my palm.
I smiled sadly.
"Perhaps your dad is just learning."
I glanced at the door, waiting for Ethan to come out and say to me to not come yet, to explain, to say the words he could not.
However, the door didn't have anyone inside.
For the first time in weeks, I was wondering if I'd gotten it wrong: was it hope or was it love?
Perhaps I had fallen for my heart's first love too quickly.
But perhaps Ethan Blackwood wasn't quite ready to hold it.