Sidelines || MxM

That's No Excuse

Jackson

Climbing the stairs to Ethan and Leo's place, the words Leo had thrown at me were still echoing in my head, feeling like daggers now—sinking in. It was as if I had been on the receiving end of a brutal tackle on the football field, blindsided and left reeling from the impact, only noticing the extent of the hit when I was on the ground, gasping for air.

Reaching the door, I carefully slipped off my shoes before stepping inside. Instantly, the warm scent of cinnamon spice filled my nostrils, the same scent that lingered on Ethan's favorite iced coffee. The apartment was lit only by a couple of lights, and I immediately noticed the mix of vibrant and minimalist decor. It had Ethan written all over it—thoughtful, with a retro flair. The apartment wasn't big, but I quickly took in the layout, a habit ingrained by years of traveling and adjusting to new places for football games. My gaze was drawn to the soft illumination coming from the kitchen and the faint glow escaping Ethan's open bedroom door.

Approaching Ethan's doorway, I paused, hands instinctively finding the pockets of my joggers as I leaned in to watch him. Like the rest of their home, his bedroom was minimalist, cozy, and unassuming. Yet, the scene before me was utterly captivating. Ethan's hair was wilder than I'd ever seen it. He hugged his white comforters, soft as a cloud, dressed in an oversized shirt that draped over him, revealing only a glimpse of his tiny blue trunks and fluffy socks. 

God, if it were another time, I would have reacted differently to seeing him like that, but this was not the moment.

A lump formed in my throat. He looked so peaceful, completely lost in his movie, but knowing what Leo told me about Ethan trying to end his life, a tear rolled down my cheek. Crying? I wasn't the type to cry. Hell, I was never taught it was okay to let tears show because tears, as my father would say, "Tears are for the weak." Yet, there I was, unable to hold back.

It was scary, even frightening, to think something like that could happen again. Fear gripped me at the thought of Ethan facing such despair, the unbearable idea that he had once found himself in such a dark place he tried to end his pain permanently. And anger, too—anger at the circumstances and the people who had driven him to that edge. It struck me then the depth of the trauma that could lead to memory shutdown.

Clearing my throat, I tapped lightly on the door frame. Without even a quick glance, Ethan slid off his earbuds and set his phone on the nightstand. His face was flushed, the kind of red one gets from crying. "So, now you're into sneaking into people's houses, huh?" Ethan tried to keep his tone light, but the strain was audible.

A small chuckle escaped my lips, an attempt to slice through the tension. "Caught me," I said, a playful lilt in my voice. "Enjoying the attention much?"

He turned to me, but I could see the sadness in his eyes. "For a big football guy, you sure move quietly. Just don't make sneaking into houses a habit, okay? I might be cool with it, but not everyone will be. Can't believe Leo let you in."

"Guess nobody can resist my charm, not even Leo."

There was a pause, heavy with things unsaid. In that silence, it was clear we both had a lot on our minds, but the words just wouldn't come. I broke the silence first, apologizing and explaining my late awareness of the video and my failure to tell him sooner. "Hey, um, I'm really sorry. I know that you have already seen the video. That's why I called you. I knew about the video unit too late. I didn't get to explain or even give you the heads up about what happened."

Ethan draped an arm across his face, as if trying to shield himself from the world—or maybe just from me. Yet, I continued. "I wanted to make sure she was taken care of and put things straight with my family this weekend first, but—"