Page 38 of I’m Already Gone

“No way. Seriously? Did he say why?”

“He said he was checking in on me. Wanted to make sure I was doing okay.”

A faint, wistful smile touches Sam’s lips. “Well, that sounds like the old Ethan, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I agree, though I still don’t quite know what to make of it—the sudden reappearance, the unexpected concern.

“Speaking of Ethan,” Sam begins, her voice dropping to a near whisper, her eyes darting over my shoulder to where the kids are laughing loudly in the kitchen. “Are you going to tell him?”

“Tell him what?” I ask.

“You know what. Don’t you think he should know? Especially with treatment starting soon?”

I shake my head firmly. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m no longer his concern.”

She exhales deeply. “Lily, I’m not trying to complicate things any further. Trust me on that. However, he is the father of your children. Don’t you think he deserves to know?”

“Sam, please. I honestly can’t handle this right now. It has been a very long day, and all I want is to spend the evening with my kids.”

Sam maintains eye contact for a prolonged, silent moment before finally giving in. The tension leaves her shoulders as she acknowledges the wall I’ve put back up.

“Alright,” she whispers.

I give her a small, appreciative nod. “Thank you. So,” I say, attempting to ease the tension in the air, “are you going to stay for dinner?”

A faint, weary smile flickers on Sam’s lips. “I would love to.”

Ethan

“What’s on your mind, son?” Dad asks, settling into the rocking chair next to mine on the front porch, the wood creaking slightly under his weight.

“Not much,” I reply, taking the frosty beer he hands me.

“How’s work treating you?” he asks.

“Busy as ever,” I say, savoring a long sip. “How’s retirement treating you?”

He recently retired after years of working long hours and days on the road as a truck driver.

Dad’s gaze shifts to the horizon, and he exhales thoughtfully. “I’m adjusting. It was the right call, no regrets there. But I’m still getting used to the quiet.”

We sit in silence for a moment before he clears his throat. “How is Lily doing?” Dad asks in a somber tone.

My parents still adore Lily. They were heartbroken and disappointed in me for my actions that led to the divorce.

“She seems to be doing well, considering.” A hollow ache settles in my chest as I recall the impulsive detour to her shop.

What was I thinking? Hell, I wasn’t thinking. It was an instinct, a magnetic pull I couldn’t resist. A part of me desperately needed to see her. To know she was okay.

“I met her, um…Ollie. Her son,” I stammer out.

“Oh, yeah? How did that go?”

I shrug. “It went fine. He seems like a good kid.” My chest tightens with a familiar ache. Seeing him made it all too real. The life we could’ve had, the future I threw away.