04 | four

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04
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"Aly, meet me at the park at three, okay?"

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"Aly, meet me at the park at three, okay?"

It's been three days since I last saw Ethan, so when I hear him through my phone, it takes a huge effort to calm myself down.

I know exactly what park he is talking about. There aren't many parks in Redwood, and we have only been to one together. The one where we had our first kiss. I think of not going because of what he has done to me, but I, for God's sake, start dressing up and walking to the park.

What has he exactly done to me, though? He thought I cheated on him, he broke up with me and went away, he stayed elusive for two years, he appeared again and then stayed elusive for three days again—

He is elusive.

I breathe in and stop as I arrive, hands clenching the hem of my shirt. His tall figure is leaning against a metal fence. I haven't actually had a good look at him since he showed up in the diner last week, so I just stand here and stare.

His hair falls into his eyes as he looks down at his phone. He is wearing a t-shirt that his arms are exposed under the afternoon sun, and they seem a bit more muscular than they were two years ago. His strong jawline and soft features still don't fail to allure me, because, dang, he is hot. He is beautiful.

I frown, and it's soon replaced by a teasing smile. I can't believe I once had the privilege to stare at all of these all day, and I can only admire him from afar now, as though he is a piece of artwork in the museum.

Perhaps my stare is too piercing, because Ethan turns his head to me and puts his phone away immediately. A corner of his lips tucks up as he walks toward me.

"Hey," he says as his eyebrows quirk up.

I blink and look up at him. Gathering myself together by inhaling, I narrow my eyes. "Hi again, Ethan."

He tilts his head toward a bench and starts heading to it. His speed startles me a bit, and before I know it, I find him sitting on the bench already.

I sigh as I sit down and stare at him. None of us speaks. We listen to the birds chirping in the serenity and slowly, I look down to focus on the patterns of the wooden bench instead.

"Do you believe that time heals?" I blurt out, the words leave my lips like a fluid.

Ethan slants me a gaze that looks rather confusing, perhaps wondering why I would start a topic with that. "Well, do you?"

"I was asking you." I muse, glancing up to him again. "Do you think time heals?"

Ethan breathes deeply before answering, "I think I know why you're asking this."

"So yeah, answer it." I am certain that I sound pissed now. What makes it so hard for him to tell me?

He purses his lips and seems to ponder my questions. "There are two processes when it comes to healing. Time heals wounds, but if the wound hurts so much that you lose yourself, you have to heal and find yourself too. So, if you're asking whether I believe that time heals yourself," he stops as his eyes search my face, he seems intent on sifting out some of my emotions as my face stays blank. "No, I don't believe it."

I school myself to wear a perfect, emotionless mask, because I can't help but let his words sink. I don't hate him, but I realize how sick I'm of his behaviour. How dare he leave me hanging for two years and think that I would be okay, when he himself doesn't believe in the time healing wounds—well, yourself—statement.

Therefore, moments later, I speak again, "So do you think leaving me and not trying to contact me will make me lose myself?"

Ethan snaps his gaze up at me and stares into my eyes. I don't know if it's just my imagination, but his eyes reflect his inner turmoil that my frustration toward him starts to ebb away.

"I had no reason to do that to you, Aly," he says, quietly.

Sighing, I scratch my fingernails on the wooden bench, feeling the roughness of it. "I just don't understand, Ethan."

He doesn't say a word, he has always been a good listener. He might have changed his coffee preference, but there are always things that stay with you forever, because they make you who you are.

"Why didn't you even try to find me after you knew that I've never cheated?" I continue.

"I hesitated," he returns. And abruptly, he grabs my hand, a shock of energy staggering me. I freeze, unable to say a word. When everything becomes audible again, I meet his pair of dark brown eyes full of genuineness. He continues, "I didn't know how I could face you, I was ashamed of thinking of you that way. And I had been blaming myself every day, really."

I shake my head. "But— why?" I don't exactly know why I'm asking this, I only know that he is holding my hands so tightly that our palms touch each other.

"Sometimes when you miss the perfect time to fix something, it will never be fixed again. It's too late," he says.

I knit my eyebrows together. "There is no such thing as 'too late', Ethan, you will eventually fix it if you try."

"Do you remember what happened on the day we broke up?"

Of course I remember, I remember that day all too well.

"I can't believe that, Alyson." Ethan's glare was cold, almost deadly. "Why did you—"

"I really did not!" I spat with tears flooding out of my eyes.

Ethan snorted, staring at me grimly. "I can't possibly trust you anymore, Alyson Cox."

His words were like a nasty slap to my face. I failed to say a word as I stared at his eyes full of rage. But those eyes did not belong to him. He was not the Ethan I knew.

"Well, if that's what you wish," I hissed with indignation, "then that's it, okay? We're done, because you didn't even bother to trust me."

Ethan's eyes darkened. "Fuck," he muttered, his hands grapsping his hair.

"Fuck you, Ethan Richardson." I turned away as I wiped my tears, sniffing so hard that my lungs started to burn.

I ran to the train station, pushed through the hectic crowd—the world seemed to fade away that my surroundings mingled together—and hopped onto a train to an unknown destination.

I gawked out of the window—and till this day I still didn't believe it—Ethan stood on the platform and stared back at me. I didn't know if he chased after me or what, but he was just there.

We stared at each other for a few seconds, and then a clicking noise ended this, the train door closed. The train moved, we drifted apart, I went into the tunnel, and Ethan was gone.

"Maybe everything would be different if I hopped onto the train too." Ethan's voice brings me back to reality. He draws circles on my palm with his thumb, we're still holding hands.

And then I realize that it was me who hopped onto the train. It was me who ended all of these. Maybe if I didn't just leave like that and explain, everything would've changed. So maybe it's too late for me to fix all of these, too.

But I refuse to believe this. Destiny and fate allow us to meet again, they give us chances to fix our mistakes. "We can still fix this, Ethan, It's never too late." I stare at him as I clarify this statement again.

I wish for the 'yes' from him, but he just stays muted. He gazes into my eyes and I instantly know that I will not hear this word from his mouth, because he looks... hurt.

"Is everything okay?" I ask quietly. I feel like I am looking at the old Ethan again, my Ethan. Maybe mentioning things about us somehow breaks the ice between us, even though they are unpleasant.

Ethan nods his head rapidly and blinks, looking away to avoid my glance. My heart restricts seeing him acting like this, but I know that he is not my Ethan anymore.

He lets go of my hand, and my heart sinks as well.

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