A SECOND CHANCE AT FOREVER Chapter 75: CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE

ASHLEY

The rain drummed softly against the pavement, filling the silence between us.

I blinked, my body freezing mid-step as I turned fully to face him. Ethan stood a few feet away, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, his dark hair damp from the drizzle. The streetlights cast a soft glow over him, highlighting the easy, familiar smile that curved his lips.

Shock rippled through me, quickly followed by an overwhelming wave of awkwardness.

“Ethan,” I breathed, my fingers tightening around the strap of my purse.

He tilted his head slightly, studying me. “You look surprised to see me.”

"You look surprised," he said, his tone light, but there was something beneath it—something that made my stomach tighten.

I was surprised. And uneasy. And guilty.

Because I knew exactly what I had done.

The last time I had seen Ethan, we had been sitting across from each other at a dimly lit restaurant, his warm brown eyes fixed on me as he asked me out. And instead of answering him—of saying yes like I planned to—I had left. No explanation. No goodbye. No response to the texts and calls that followed.

I had done what I did best. I disappeared.

And now, weeks later, he was standing in front of me, completely unbothered by the fact that I had ignored every attempt he had made to reach me.

Or maybe he wasn’t unbothered at all. Maybe he was just really good at hiding it.

“I saw on Instagram that you opened your store,” he said, breaking the silence between us. "I wanted to stop by and say congratulations."

My fingers tightened around the strap of my purse. “Oh… um… thanks.”

Silence stretched between us, filled only by the sound of passing cars and the steady drizzle of rain.

I should have said more. I should have explained. But the words wouldn’t come.

Ethan let out a soft breath, shifting his weight slightly. “I would’ve come sooner, but I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me.”I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “Oh. Um… thank you.”

His lips twitched. “I would’ve come earlier, but, well… I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me.”

A lump formed in my throat. He wasn’t wrong.

The rain continued to fall between us, a steady rhythm against the quiet city. I should’ve said something—should’ve explained, should’ve apologized—but the words wouldn’t come.

Ethan exhaled, glancing up at the sky before giving me a small, knowing smile. “It’s late. And wet.” He shifted his weight slightly. “How about we grab a coffee? Just for a few minutes.”

I hesitated, my pulse quickening.

Coffee.

A simple, harmless invitation.

“Yes sure” I replied…

The small café beside my store was quiet at this hour, the warm glow from inside spilling onto the wet pavement. I stepped in first, shaking off the dampness from the rain as Ethan followed closely behind. The scent of roasted coffee beans and freshly baked pastries filled the air, wrapping around me like a comforting embrace.

A waitress greeted us with a polite smile, leading us to a small table near the window. I slid into the chair, my fingers instinctively curling around the edges of the menu even though I had no real intention of reading it.

Ethan ordered a cappuccino. I asked for Latte

The waitress nodded, disappearing toward the counter, leaving us in the thick silence that had been building between us since the moment I turned around and saw him standing in the rain.

I kept my gaze on the window, watching as raindrops trailed down the glass in uneven patterns. Anything to avoid looking at him.

I knew I should say something—acknowledge the way I had disappeared on him without a word, ignored his calls, his texts. But the words lodged in my throat, too tangled to sort through.

The drinks arrived quickly, placed in front of us with a quiet clink of ceramic against wood.

I wrapped my hands around the warm cup, the heat seeping into my cold fingers.

Then, finally, Ethan broke the silence.

"So," he said, voice calm but laced with something unreadable. "How are you?"

I hesitated, my gaze flickering to him before dropping back to my cup. How was I? That was a loaded question. One I wasn’t sure I could answer honestly.

“I’m fine,” I said, the words automatic, practiced.

Ethan let out a quiet chuckle, but there was no humor in it. “Right. Fine.”

I swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. “Ethan…”

He shook his head, setting his cup down with a soft clink. “I’m not here to fight, Ashley. I just—I saw your post about the store opening and thought I’d come congratulate you. In person.” His lips pressed together, his voice even, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. “Since you weren’t giving me much of a choice otherwise.”

Guilt tightened around my chest. He wasn’t wrong. I had disappeared on him. Ignored every call, every text, every attempt he made to reach me. I hadn’t meant to hurt him, but after that night, after the way I walked out on him, I didn’t know what else to do.

Or maybe because you’ve been too caught up with your supposed ex-husband to remember Ethan.

The thought made my stomach twist, but I shoved it down before it could take root.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, my fingers tracing the rim of my cup. “I just… things got complicated.”

Ethan exhaled, studying me for a long moment before he finally spoke. 

“Yeah,” he said. “It was my fault, really. I pushed things too far, too fast. You had just gotten back, dealing with your mom’s passing, trying to settle in… I should’ve given you space.”

He let out a soft breath, shaking his head slightly. “I get why you walked out that night.”

I stayed silent, my fingers absently tracing the rim of my cup. A part of me wished he was angry—yelled at me, blamed me—because that would have been easier. But this? The quiet understanding in his voice, the way he kept looking at me like I owed him nothing, even after I had disappeared on him? That made it worse.

Ethan leaned back slightly, watching me. “I called,” he continued. “I texted. Not because I needed an explanation, but because I wanted to know you were okay. That I hadn’t completely ruined things.” His fingers curled slightly before he released them, his voice steady. “But you just… shut me out.”

I swallowed hard, guilt pressing against my ribs. “I didn’t mean to,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I didn’t know what to say.”

His lips twitched slightly, something tired passing through his eyes. “You could’ve said anything, Ashley. Even if it was just ‘leave me alone.’”

I flinched. He wasn’t saying it to hurt me, but the truth of it still stung. Because he was right.

I should have replied. Should have given him something instead of vanishing like he meant nothing.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured again, the words feeling empty even to me.

Ethan sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Look, I didn’t come here to make you feel bad, alright? I just wanted to say congratulations.” He met my gaze, his expression unreadable. “And maybe… I don’t know. Just make sure we’re okay.”

I hesitated, because I didn’t know if we were.

Ethan watched me for a moment longer, then let out a small breath, nodding slightly like he had already expected my silence.

““You don’t have to answer that,” Ethan said, his voice lighter now, like he was making peace with whatever this was. “I just needed to say my piece.”

I clenched my fingers around my cup, something aching deep in my chest. Guilt, regret—maybe both.

“Ethan…”

He gave me a small, lopsided smile, though there was something tired about it. “It’s alright, Ashley. I’m not mad at you.” His gaze softened just a little. “I just don’t want to be a stranger, that’s all.”

The words settled between us, quiet and honest.

I exhaled slowly, my grip loosening around my cup. “We’re fine,” I said, more to reassure him than anything else. “I’m sorry for disappearing like that. I should’ve at least answered.”

Ethan studied me for a beat, then nodded. “Yeah, you should’ve.” But there was no bitterness in his voice, just acceptance.

A small silence stretched as we both picked up our cups, letting the warmth seep into our fingers as we took a few slow sips. Outside, the rain had softened into a light drizzle, tapping gently against the café window.

Eventually, Ethan glanced at his watch and then back at me. “It’s getting late,” he said, pushing his cup aside. “Let me take you home.”

I hesitated, my first instinct to decline. But I was tired, and the idea of walking alone in the cold, damp night didn’t appeal to me.

“…Alright,” I murmured, finally meeting his gaze.

He gave a small nod, then stood, reaching for his jacket. I followed suit, grabbing my bag as we stepped out into the night, the air crisp and laced with the scent of rain.