The Reunion (11 page)

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Authors: Summer Newman

BOOK: The Reunion
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“You never left mine.”

“How can you lie like that?” Ebony shrieked. “Don’t you have one shred of morality? I’m sure, absolutely sure, that you never once thought about me while you were gone. Admit it.”

Ethan walked into his bedroom and retrieved a big wooden trunk. He laid it at Ebony’s feet.

“What’s this?”

“It’s one of two things I brought back with me on the plane. The other was the locket.” He gestured toward the trunk. “Open it and tell me that I never thought about you during the last five years.”

Ebony hesitated for a moment, glanced from Ethan to the trunk, then knelt down and opened it. Inside were letters. Hundreds and hundreds of letters. Some of the envelopes were yellowed with age. Others were recently written. All were sealed and bore stamps from numerous countries, and all were addressed to Ebony.

“Pick one out,” Ethan said.

Ebony paused for a moment, then picked one at random, opened it, and read. She quickly raised her eyes. “This letter is dated almost three years ago.”

“Read it out loud,” Ethan requested.

She hesitated, then stepped forward into the light, clearing her throat. She read, “I wish we were spending Christmas together. What are you doing right now?” She dropped the letter back into the trunk as if it had burned her, took a deep breath, and then looked at him. “I was probably thinking of you, too, but you weren’t there when I needed you. You weren’t there, Ethan.”

“At least not in body,” he said.

“Not in body or in any other way. You deserted me.”

“In all those years,” he said, “I never felt completely apart from you.”

“Why do you talk like that?” She frowned. “It’s irritating.”

“It’s true,” he argued.

“And I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Why shouldn't you?”

“Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that your word lacks credibility? After all, you were the one who chose to leave. You were the one who stayed away for five years. You were the one who didn’t want to get married. Considering all that, how can you expect me to believe there’s a mystical and holy bond between us?”

“Because there is.”

“Listen to what you’re saying. You’re mocking me with these words. Don’t you realize what true love is? True love can surmount any barrier, and it endures no matter what. Nothing could be further from your feelings for me. You betrayed me of your own free will. There were no barriers to our love. No one tried to keep us apart, yet you stayed away for years. You didn’t want to marry me. That was obvious by your actions. But you didn’t have the courage to tell me to my face. You only left me a goddamned note.”

“Why did I leave?” Ethan asked.

Ebony had known the answer for a long time.

“Why?” he asked again when she did not respond.

“Because you were from a rich and established family, and you couldn’t bear to dilute the precious Harrington blood with an orphan girl who had been left in a church when she was two days old. Close?”

“That’s not true,” Ethan said, obviously offended that she could even think such a thought.

“Or is it because I’m black and you’re white?” she asked sharply. “Maybe when it came right down to it, you just couldn’t get over that fact.”

“Not true. Not even close.”

“Not true? Then what is the truth, Ethan? Tell me.”

“I left you because I loved you,” he said softly.

“You’ll have to do better than that.”

“I should have told you to your face,” he said, “but I couldn’t. That’s something I never stopped regretting, but at the time, I felt there was no choice.”

She walked out of the cottage.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Away from you,” she snapped, hurrying toward the wharf. “I’m fed up with your lies and your stories of romantic ghosts.”

“Please, don’t leave. Let me finish. You owe me that.”

She stopped and faced him. “I owe you nothing.”

“I’m not lying to you,” he pledged. “You have every right to despise me, but I swear I felt your spirit just as surely as others feel the sun on their faces or wind in their hair.”

“Why did you betray me, Ethan? The truth.”

Ethan leaned against a tall spruce tree. “If anything, I betrayed myself.” He thought for a long time, then continued. “Do you remember the day I proposed to you?”

“I’ve tried to forget it.”

“To me it seems like yesterday. It was May the eleventh, my twenty-fifth birthday. We walked up the Nine Mile River and spread our blanket at the Stillwater.”

“Why are you doing this?” Ebony asked, her voice cracking.

“The lake was beautiful that day, like you. I remember staring at the water and the surrounding forest. It was alive and vibrant and unspoiled. To disturb it in any way would have been an outrage, but something inside me wanted to possess and transform it. I would have bought the land and fenced off my property. I would have cut down the trees and built a house.”

Ebony was stunned by his admission. “You didn’t like it the way it was?”

“I loved it only the way it was,” Ethan explained. “Remember how excited you were the day I asked you to marry me? You decided we would marry on your birthday, the first day of spring.” Ethan paused with a pained expression. “You were so incredibly beautiful at that moment, Ebony, and that’s why I had to leave.”

She shook her head with confusion. “Why did you ask me to marry you?” she asked.

“Because I loved you.”

She laughed, then cried in exasperation. “Then why did you leave me?”

“Because you were the Stillwater, the beautiful lake and virgin forest. You were natural and pure. You were pristine and perfect. But I was filled with anger and resentment and a weird, insatiable drive to push the limits. I was drinking, fighting, living wild, shaming myself. Shaming you.”

Ebony sat on a bench, and Ethan sat beside her.

“I was afraid I might corrupt you,” he said quietly, obviously greatly shamed.

“It took two to tango,” she replied. “I was a big girl.”

“I didn’t deserve you,” he said. “You were way out of my league, but I knew you loved me and would have followed me. But followed me where? I had no goals, no direction. I was immature and stupid. I wanted to give you a chance at a real man, Ebony, someone who did deserve you.”

“I loved you,” she said with emphasis.

“And I loved you. With all my heart and soul, I loved you. I wanted to raise a family with you, admire the flowers you planted in our garden, and drink hot chocolate with you on cold winter nights. But I was not right in my head. I was on a one-way ride to self-destruction. I was nothing but trouble for you.”

“I would have married you.”

“And that would have destroyed you. It would have destroyed both of us.”

“I was left behind, humiliated.”

“I had no choice.” Tears formed in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. “I left you because I loved you. Please understand that.” In a strange way, Ebony derived satisfaction from seeing him cry. She enjoyed his show of emotion and his pain. For years she had dreamed of this moment. All her suffering, all her humiliation and shame, all her human frailties would someday, she hoped, be washed away in his sadness and in his tears. But seeing him now, like a mother who holds her young son while he lies sick in the night, caused her lust for vengeance to wane and die. She saw a man, just a man, a man with wrinkles around his eyes and a weary expression. At that moment, Ebony forgave him, truly forgave him.

“What did you want to show me?” she asked softly.

Ethan led her back to the cottage and into the study. She opened the door, switched on the light, then froze at the threshold. The walls were filled with beautiful paintings of landscapes, abstracts, cathedrals. The colors, the sharpness, the sensitivity, everything about them suggested a great talent. She walked in and inspected a few. On closer examination, she was even more charmed by Ethan’s taste.

“What do you think?”

Ebony turned to him. “I would say that not only are you an art collector, you’re a good one.”

“They’re mine.”

“What?”

“They’re mine. I painted them.”

“These are yours?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

“Oh, Ethan, I knew you were outstanding at architectural drawings, but I had no idea about your artistic ability.” She walked in and inspected them more closely. “That day you took all those boxes across in your dory, those were your paintings, weren’t they?”

“Yes.” He pointed down the hall. “Do you want to see my favorite?”

She nodded and quietly walked down the hall.

Ethan led her to his studio and switched on the light. “This,” he said, pointing to a portrait, “is my pride and joy.”

Ebony looked up and felt her heart tremble. The painting was of her. It was a perfect reflection of how she looked five years ago.

“That’s incredible,” she said, stepping forward and looking it over.

“She’s a beautiful girl,” he said, admiring her face, “and I never thought I would ever see anyone more beautiful than her. But you proved me wrong.”

Ebony could feel him beside her as if he were a magnet.

“Is my locket next to your heart?” Ethan unexpectedly asked.

She didn’t answer.

“Lockets are a symbol of love,” said Ethan, lightly brushing back Ebony’s hair and exposing the golden chain around her neck. He gently pressed his lips to her ear.

Ebony’s whole body trembled with hitherto unknown sensations.

“Are you wearing my locket?”

“No,” she answered, stepping back and staring into his eyes. “I’m wearing my locket.”

Ethan gently pulled her against his strong, hard body. Ebony knew that he wanted to passionately kiss her on the lips. She was flooded with emotion, long dammed within her, but now straining to gush free, unrestrained. Their mouths met, and Ethan slid his hands down her back onto her soft bottom. Ebony instinctively put her hand between his legs, feeling his big ten-inch cock, already almost fully erect. In a rush she unhooked his pants and pulled them down to his mid-thighs, his cock springing out. He lifted her dress and pulled her panties down to her knees. They kissed hard and pressed together, Ethan’s cock now rock hard and rubbing across Ebony’s hot, swelled, wet pussy lips. Soon they were panting and grinding, their breaths warm and moist. Ebony could feel his hot shaft stroking her clitoris, and no matter how pleasurable sex had been in the past, even on a purely physical level, this sex surpassed it. Ethan, in a rush, squatted down and pulled Ebony’s panties to her ankles. He kissed her pussy and moaned with pleasure at her taste. She opened her mouth and gasped. Then she suddenly noticed the typewriter where, all those years ago, he had written his good-bye note.

Ebony smirked, stepped back, pulled up her panties, and turned her back to him. “It’s time for me to go now,” she said firmly.

Ethan pulled up his pants. “You haven’t forgiven me.”

“There’s a big difference between forgiving and forgetting.”

An expression of sadness crossed his face, then understanding, then guilt. “I’m not proud of my past, Ebony, but this is my life, and it’s all I have. I can crawl in a hole and hate myself, or I can realize that this is the first day of the rest of my life. I choose the latter. I’m not going to curl up and die, and no matter what you say, I will love you. To me you are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Ebony sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I feel so old,” she whispered, starting to cry.

Ethan embraced her and held her while she cried.

“I’m so confused,” she said, holding her head to his chest.

“You have a good heart, Ebony. You’re a good person.”

She stepped back and forced a smile, wiping her eyes with a tissue. “I want to go home now.”

They walked in silence back to the dory, and he rowed her back to shore in a silent, melancholy mood. They climbed to the top of the wharf.

“I want to be your friend, Ethan,” she suddenly blurted out.

“I want to be yours, too.”

“Just friends,” she said deliberately, as if spelling out the terms of an agreement.

“Can I ask you something?”

She liked the feeling of intimacy with him on the dark, deserted wharf and did not resist when he lightly clasped her hands. It was an innocent gesture that recalled the purity and magic of their early romance, when they were younger and more reckless in the ways of the heart. Ebony suddenly felt strangely absent, as if her spirit was hovering outside her body and floating amid the moonbeams, the shooting stars, and the vast expanse.

“What is it?” she answered dreamily.

“Will you marry me?”

Snap!
The magic was broken. Smashed, demolished, destroyed. Ebony suddenly became intensely aware of her own body, her breathing, her heartbeat. She felt the weight and pressure of Ethan’s hands. One minute she was suspended in air, and the next she came crashing to the hard ground. It was almost like being struck a heavy blow. She recoiled from Ethan, terror contorting her normally balanced features.

“Ebony?”

“Why did you say that?” she shrieked wildly, tears welling in her eyes. “Why couldn’t you leave well enough alone? I was starting to like you again. I was hoping we could be friends. But now you’ve ruined it. You’ve ruined everything.”

“I love you.”

“Don’t ever, ever, say that again!” she exclaimed. “I don’t want your proposal. You never said it. I didn’t hear it.”

“You did hear it. I’m asking you to marry me.”

“Leave me alone!” she ordered, though Ethan had not made a move to touch her. “I hate you, and I don’t want anything to do with you.” She fidgeted, utterly confused as to what she should do next. Suddenly, she rose up and spontaneously kissed Ethan on the mouth. Why she did it, she couldn’t say. It was a mystery to her, and it happened so fast it seemed like a blur. She turned and ran toward her house.

“I love you,” Ethan called behind her.

I love you, too
, she thought.

As Ebony reached the top of a hill, she saw a car concealed behind a row of trees with a woman sitting silently behind the wheel. The woman seemed to be watching her. Ebony only half processed the information, as she was totally preoccupied with Ethan and his unexpected proposal. She headed toward her house, but the last thing she saw were two dark, witchlike eyes.

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