Page 152 of Bottle Shock
I glare at Ethan. “Why’d you call her in here?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Ethan says, hands up. “I’m out of my depth.”
Elyse gives me the kind of slow, assessing look that eerily resembles our mother’s. “I thought you were exaggerating,” she says to Ethan. “But holy shit, Gavin. You look like the worst I’ve ever seen you.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” they say in unison.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I just miss her, okay? I’m allowed to miss my wife.”
“Missing her and actively decaying are not the same thing,” Elyse says flatly.
“Thatdidn’t happen when Marisa left,” Ethan adds. “I was sad. I was upset. But I didn’t look like…” He gestures vaguely. “Whatever the fuck this is.”
I slam my laptop closed. “Can you two stop? Please. I’m handling it. She comes back in six weeks. Lily’s busy with school. We’re in the middle of harvest. I don’t have time for this.”
Ethan pushes off the barrel he was leaning on. “So you’re just going to sit here and rot until then?”
I don’t answer. Because that’s exactly what I’ve been doing for the two weeks she’s been gone.
Elyse crosses her arms. “Okay. New idea. You go to Chicago.”
I blink at her. “No.”
“Why not?” Ethan says. “Seriously. Why not?”
“I’m not going leave my daughter behind.”
Elyse pops a hip. “Who said anything about leaving her behind.”
“I’m not uprooting Lily for two months,” I bite out. “She needs stability. Routine. Her life is here.”
“Oh my God,” Elyse mutters, turning to Ethan like they’ve had this exact conversation before. “He’s doing the thing.”
“The martyr dad thing,” Ethan confirms. “You’ve been doing it since Lily was born. It’s like you think you can’t go after anything you want.”
“We think you should go to Chicago. You and Lily,” Elyse says.
So not only are they putting their noses in my business, now they’re talking about me behind my back.
“I’m sorry, you two want me to what? Just pack up and?—”
“Gavin.” Elyse steps closer, tone softening. “You are the stability. Lily is not going to break because her routine changes. She’s not made of glass.”
Ethan nods. “And she’s your kid. She has your genetics. You think she can’t adapt to change? Maybe it would be good for her to experience someplace new.”
I stare at the floor, jaw clenched.
They’re not wrong. And I hate that they’re not wrong.
“Scottie didn’t leave you,” Ethan says. “She took a job. A job she earned. And you’re sitting here acting like you’re powerless.”
I swallow hard.
“You told me,” Ethan continues, “to go after Marisa. To not be a coward. To choose the hard thing because it’s the right thing. And now look at you. Refusing to take your own.”
“It’s harvest. You guys need me,” I say weakly, because it’s the last argument I have.
