Page 67 of I’m Already Gone

He turns back to me. “It’s not my story to tell. If she feels ready to share with you, she will. But for now, just keep doing what you’re doing. For Jake and Maddy.”

I let out a long, shuddering sigh and turn back to Lily. “I never stopped loving her,” I confess.

“I know,” he replies.

“But I gave up on her. On us,” I add, ashamed.

He places a heavy, comforting hand on my shoulder. “I’m not here to judge you, Ethan, or Lily. Despite what happened between you two, it’s never been our place to intervene. But what I can say is not once, not a single day after the divorce, did you ever stray from being there for your children. And that means everything. All I ask of you now is to keep that bond with them stronger than ever. You’re a good man, Ethan.”

He gives my shoulder a final, reassuring squeeze and walks away toward his wife.

He leaves me stewing in ‘what the hell does that mean’ limbo.

“You’re still here?”

I toss the last garbage bag into the bin and turn to face Lily. “Yeah. I was waiting for you.”

Her brow furrows slightly, a hint of confusion in her tired eyes. “Oh? What for?”

“For your gift,” I reply in a measured tone, though inside, everything is spinning.

A wistful smile touches her lips, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “My gift? You mean this whole evening wasn’t your gift?”

I shake my head. “Nope. That was all your sister’s and the kids’ idea. I was just the helper.” I extend my hand, palm up, a silent invitation for a chance to rewrite our story. “Care to take a chance with me?”

She wraps the sweater tighter around her. Her gaze lingers on my outstretched hand for a long, agonizing beat. The hesitation is palpable, a silent battle playing out in her tired eyes. Then she finally surrenders. “I think some chances are worth taking,” she whispers. Her fingers, cool and soft, slip into mine, the touch instantly transporting me back to the nights we spent holding hands while walking on the beach at sunset.

My hand closes around her dainty one, and I realize how much I missed the simple connection. I lead her back to one of the oversized beanbag chairs set up under the soft glow of the Christmas lights.

She sinks into the beanbag, her gaze curious but excited. I switch on the rented karaoke machine and search for the song that brings me back to a time when everything felt right between us before I ruined it all. It was a promise then. A promise I didn’t keep. A promise I broke, too blinded to see I was losing my other half.

“Right Here Waiting” by Richard Marx begins to fill the speakers. Grabbing the microphone, my hand shaking, I wait for the lyrics to scroll across the screen.

I take a deep breath, the lyrics catching in my throat, but I belt them out, pouring every agonizing emotion I’ve been suppressing for four years of suffocating silence. The regret, the longing, the aching realization of what I threw away all comes out in the strained notes.

This is my desperate way of reminding her of a time when life felt simpler, when our laughter came easier, and when I never, not for a single moment, forgot how much we loved each other, what we meant to each other.

Once I reach the bridge, my voice cracking slightly, I walk over to her. I get down on one knee and take her hand in mine, singing the rest of the lyrics directly to her, my gaze locked on hers.

Tears stream down her face, her lips trembling.

As the last note fades, the silence that follows is deafening. My own eyes are misty, her beautiful face blurring, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I am looking at the love of my life. The one I hurt with casual cruelty. The one I betrayed. The one I gave up on believing I could ever truly be whole without her.

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Lily,” I say roughly, my voice barely a whisper, “but I… I want this chance with you to start over. Even if it’s just as friends. Because…” I choke up, the words catching painfully in my throat, “Because I can’t be without you.”

She leans in and wraps her arms tightly around my neck, pulling me into her. Her body shakes with silent sobs. No words are spoken, only the soft sound of her crying, the muffled sniffles, and the crushing weight of all our shared heartbreak.

Today, tomorrow, and always, I promise to choose Lily. To choose my Sunshine.

Ethan

Two Days Later

“Lily! Open the door!” I bellow, my fist hammering against the solid wood, each thud echoing the frantic beat in my chest.

She didn’t reply to any of my messages all day. The silence that lingered between my unanswered messages felt wrong.

No response, only the sickening, unending sound of Ollie’s wails, muffled from inside. I vault over the porch railing, landing in Lily’s flower bed. I slap my palms against the cool glass of the living room window, pressing my face against it to find a way in, but the damn blackout shades are drawn tight.