Protecting Olivia

CHAPTER FORTY TWO

LIVY

Ethan was quiet on the drive back to the cabin. We had spent a few hours with Fran, learning about Mary and her relationship with Patrick. He was a predator, to put it bluntly. Preying on a sixteen-year-old girl, manipulating her into believing that all of her family was against her, isolating her from everyone she knew and loved until she only had him. She was too young to know any better, too young and too inexperienced to see the difference between love and obsession, and in the end, it led to a life of drugs, which would ultimately kill her.

Fran had invited us back tomorrow for a barbecue. She would speak to the rest of the family tonight, she'd assured Ethan that they would want to meet him, that they would want to get to know him. Ethan had agreed, though I knew he was struggling with the information he received on Mary. Before Mary met Patrick, she was a fun-loving girl who had so many dreams, but once he got his hands on her, everything that she was, was destroyed.

We park the hire car outside the cabin and make our way inside, Ethan still hadn't said a word since leaving Fran's and my heart went out to him, wanting to comfort him but I wasn't sure how.

Ethan walks to the fridge in the little kitchenette and grabs a beer out, he opens the top and moves to the couch, sitting down on it but not moving to drink. Instead, he rests his elbows on his knees and stares at the bottle in his hands. I tentatively walk towards him and take a seat next to him, turning my body to face him.

"Talk to me Ethan, what's going through that head of yours?" I ask softly, he looks so distraught, breaking my heart to see him like this.

"I left her," his voice sounds bitter and strained. He brings the bottle to his lips and takes a large gulp before pulling it away and staring at it again. He doesn't look at me, doesn't turn to face me at all. "She would have been finally free of him, and I left her to die all alone in a hotel room." The pain in his voice brings a tear to my eye. I swallow the lump in my throat and scoot closer to him on the couch, placing my hand on his exposed forearm.

"It's not your fault Ethan," I whisper, earning a shake of his head in response. "It's not Ethan, the Mary that Fran described is not the same woman who you knew, that Mary died long before you were in the picture."

"I could have reached out to her," he states after a long moment of silence. "I could have got her help. She was still young, she could have recovered and moved on with her life." He places his half full bottle of beer on the coffee table and buries his head in his hands. I move closer to him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and leaning my head on his bicep.

"You didn't owe her anything Ethan, what she did to you growing up..." I swallow hard, wrapping my arms tighter around him as I try to keep my composure. His pain is palpable and I want nothing more than to take it all away. "You didn't know that there was a completely different side to her, you didn't see that, this isn't your fault."

I feel his head rest on mine, his arms moving to wrap around me. Despite our awkward position, I sink into his embrace, moving my hand to run through his hair. I can feel his despair and I don't know if anything I have said to him has made a difference. He turns his body to face me, burying his head in my neck and I find myself swinging my leg over his to straddle him, holding him to me. His arms tighten around me, holding me impossibly close as he breathes out a long breath that tickles the skin on my neck.

"I don't deserve you," he mumbles. I move back slightly, placing my hands on the sides of his face, forcing him to look at me. The pain, grief and anguish in his eyes takes my breath away, and I know its not just for Mary, but for the life he has been dealt, everything he has experienced.

"You, are the best person I know." I tell him earnestly, my eyes locked on his, forcing him to heed my words. "You are so selfless, putting everyone before yourself. You took a bullet for me Ethan." I remind him.