Chapter Eight
Seven Years Ago
“This is your house?” I followed Ethan into his extravagant Hollywood mansion. My jaw was gaping open, my eyes wide as I took in my surroundings. “How many people live here?” I’d seen how big the property was when we drove up through the huge gate. I’d seen some big houses before. My family and I had taken a trip to the east coast once, stopping in Newport, Rhode Island checking out the mansions that were more like castles. Ethan’s home mirrored those, actually almost dwarfing them in size.
“Just me and the staff,” he said flippantly, leading the way from the garage through the kitchen before branching off into a hallway. "But there are always people stopping by. Friends, family, you know…"
I mumbled under my breath, “I’m pretty sure my whole high school could live in this house…” I heard Ethan chuckle and shake his head.
He continued to lead me down the hallway, taking a staircase to a lower basement level of the house. There we went down another spacious hallway before turning into one of the open rooms. A large cinema style theater opened up in front of me.
“You have a theater. In your house,” I gawked. “You have a theater in your house!”
Ethan shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back over his head more. "You will too, someday," he said, his green eyes squinted in humor, slight dimples I hadn't noticed before appearing slightly in his cheeks. "You know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, right,” I snorted. I brushed past Ethan making my way to a large sectional area where I could stretch out. “Well, when I do, then we can have Mexican and movies at my mansion instead.” I fell down onto the couch, sinking into the luxuriously soft cushions.
“Deal,” Ethan agreed, gracefully sitting down next to me. He picked up a complex remote laying towards the end of the sectional and proceeded to turn on the large cinema screen and looking for a title. While he browsed his movie queue, I studied him.
I couldn’t understand how I had gotten to this moment in my life. Ethan Anderson was quickly becoming one of my best friends. Ethan and I had become so much closer over the first month of filming. We spent so much time together at work, but we never had time to really get to know each other until after hours when Ethan would go out of his way to get to know me. He showed me around Los Angeles and had already become a sage of wisdom and comfort for me. He kept me sane on set and he kept me grounded off set. He held my hand when I was scared. He let me cry in his arms when I was overwhelmed. He was perfect.
And yet, I could tell he wasn't quite happy. Something had been happening between him and his girlfriend. I didn't like to pry because it seemed like something so personal for him. He didn't offer up much information about his elusive girlfriend, but I had heard snippets of conversation here and there when he had talked to her on the phone. From what I gathered, she was shy and she didn’t like Ethan spending so much time away from her. That revelation alone blew my mind. How could someone get involved with Ethan and not realize how busy and demanding his lifestyle could be?
Today, despite the relaxed smile on his face, his features were guarded. I was torn between wanting to respect his privacy and wanting to make sure he was okay. My curiosity got the best of me and I reached out a hand, lightly resting my palm against his forearm. His arm flexed under my palm and he turned to look over at me. “I don’t mean to pry,” I began cautiously. “But you’ve been a little off all day. Are you okay? What’s going on with you?”
Ethan sighed, leaning back into the couch cushions. His position resulted in his arm lightly touching my own, his warm skin providing comfort. “I’m fine,” he said. “Let’s just watch the movie. I haven’t seen the new James Bond movie yet. Have you?”
I ignored his question, nudging his arm. “You’re not fine, but okay, I won’t pry,” I said, turning to face the screen. “Just know, I’m here if you need anything.” I cast my eyes back in his direction, reiterating, “Anything.” Ethan gave me a small smile. We both turned our attention to the screen.
About half an hour into the movie, Ethan reached over and paused it. "Okay, maybe I do need to talk about it," he said quickly leaning back, frustration searing from him.
I sat up a bit straighter, composing my face to shield my reactions so he would speak openly. Ethan looked over at me then quickly back at the paused screen, avoiding eye contact. “So, you know I’ve been seeing this girl,” he began. “And it started out just so… I can’t even describe it, Elle. She was perfect. A real normal girl. And everything was great, but then we started filming and I mean, you know how it is. It’s a very taxing schedule, right?” He looked over at me waiting for affirmation.
“Right,” I said nodding.
He nodded back and continued, “But she just couldn’t get it. And she’s shy. She’s so incredibly and painfully shy. She hates fame. I know it’s ridiculous. Like, why is she with me? Fame is something I can never escape from.”
He was beginning to ramble, but I held my breath, not interrupting. “But she said she loved me. And she loves me for who I am. But now – she’s just…I hate to even think it and I can’t say it. But I have to. I need to get this off my chest.” Ethan looked at me; anguish furrowing his brows and coating his features. “I don’t think she’s … I think there’s something…not right… with her.”
He paused and looked down at his hands. He kept wringing them together in his lap. "You think..." I began, afraid to speak, but needed clarification. "You think she needs help? Like a psychiatrist?”
Ethan jerked his head in my direction, his eyes zeroed in on mine. “Yes,” he said, shaking his head, ashamed. “Does that make me a terrible person? I’m a terrible boyfriend, right?”
I reached my hand over interrupting his own assault on his fingers. I slipped my palm between his hands and pulled one of his hands into my lap, caressing the skin on top with my other hand. “You could never be a terrible person, Ethan. Even if you tried,” I said quietly. “The fact that you recognize that she does need help means you’re a very considerate and caring person.” I didn’t have any other way to get my words across to him. He had to know that he’s a magnificent person.
“I’m not, Elle,” Ethan shook his head. “I tried to help her, at first, you know. But she started just saying some crazy shit. She’d grasp at the littlest things and blow them way out of proportion. Her threats got to the point I couldn’t handle it anymore.”
He looked over at me and I felt him watching for a reaction to words that he hadn’t yet spoken. His gaze was hard and penetrating into my eyes. “I told her I needed space.” He abruptly stopped talking as if he had more he wanted to say. He opened his mouth, but then closed it, shaking his head and looking away.
“Ethan…” I said. It felt as if my own heart was reaching out to him. He was punishing himself for the way his girlfriend was acting. He scooted a bit closer to me, throwing his arm over my shoulder and tucking me into his side.
“Hush, now,” he said looking down at me with a weighty expression that I couldn’t fathom. “Let’s just watch the movie.” I let myself settle into his side, giving up on the conversation for the time being. I was worried about him. Seeing somebody so calm and collected – somebody that I was growing to care for so much – it was disconcerting to see him so worked up and anxious about his situation.
We resumed watching the movie. I lost myself in the film, only getting distracted when Ethan would lightly run his hand in circles over my shoulder or lean down to kiss the top of my head. I couldn’t read him or these gestures that he was giving me. It was platonic, I knew that much. Especially since we had just been talking about his girlfriend. Well, his on-again-off-again girlfriend. I didn’t let myself think about it though. Ethan needed someone to care for him with no ulterior motives. He needed a loyal friend. And that friend was going to be me. No matter what.