Page 180 of The Sweetest Obsession

But that boy wasmyposer and my best friend.

My thoughts are unsettled as hell as I frown at Mason Law.

What were you trying to tell us, old man?

How many more bodies will Raleigh forensics find as they work that clearing, churning up the earth and the devil’s secrets?

One.

Just one awful secret.

You know that’s all it is.

You already knowwho.

My lip curls into a snarl.

I can’t take this shit.

All these years, I thought I was ready.

Now that there’s a chance we might find out he’s really gone—

Fuck.

In the back of my mind, I’ve been hoping one day he’d show up on my doorstep with a wife and kids or at least some unbelievable story about running off to Argentina—a place Ethan always fantasized about when we were boys because it was so frigging close to Antarctica. He had a hard-on for arctic exploring even though he shook like a leaf all winter.

Go figure.

Ethan, he’d be a little grey, more grizzled than before. Maybe an early midlife pot belly and a set of bristly whiskers, but grinning with that same shit-eating, disarming grin.

Sorry, man. Wish I could’ve told you.

But I just couldn’t take this dull little town anymore.

So you married my sister, huh? Shit, that’s great.

When do I get to meet my niece and nephew?

Stupid.

Stupid fucking cheesy-ass fantasy.

I snort at my own idiocy.

Married to Ophelia with a son and daughter of our own and Nell playing big sister?

Ros safe and sound, busy running the family shop without any goddamned drug-snorting, panty-sniffing Arrendell lunatic in the picture?

Angela Sanderson, miraculously recovered and happily retired?

Then Ethan, coming home to surprise everyone.

Deep down, I knew.

I knew it was fuckinghopeless.

Guess I never learned to separate hope from the desperate inner ravings of a madman who could never stop wishing for one more day with his best friend.

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