𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐄'𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 || 𝐉𝐉𝐊

chapter fourty-seven

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-#later that night:[Ethan's place]:[Author's pov]:

Ethan sat alone in the courtyard, the quiet hum of the night settling around him like a second skin. His gaze dropped to his bandaged hand, eyes lingering there in silence.

The wind whispered across his face, cool and indifferent-so unlike the storm inside him.

And then, without warning, Ava's words from earlier came back to him. "She's married, isn't she?"

That single sentence-so simple, so brutally honest-echoed in his mind like a ghost refusing to leave. His chest tightened. There was something about hearing it said out loud that made it more real. More cruel.

He leaned back in the chair, head tilted skyward, and brought his bandaged hand over his eyes, as if shielding himself from a truth too blinding to face.

As if he could press the thoughts away.

As if he could will the pain to disappear.

But it didn't.

He already knew she was married.

He already knew she didn't love him.

He knew it all-but why did it still hurt this much?

It wasn't new information. But somehow, life had this cruel way of rubbing salt into wounds you thought had scabbed over.

"Would things have been different... if I had found you earlier?" he whispered, barely audible, the words slipping past his lips like a prayer to no one. His voice cracked slightly, raw and low, like a man trying not to break under the weight of all the what-ifs.

For a while, there was only silence-thick, aching silence.

Then a voice broke through it. "That must be hurtful."

Ethan flinched ever so slightly. He hadn't heard anyone approach.

He slowly lowered his hand and sat upright, turning his head toward the sound. There, walking across the dimly lit courtyard, was Noah. His pace was unhurried, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, his eyes calm but knowing.

Ethan didn't say a word. He just watched him come closer, silently. For a moment, their eyes met-brief and heavy-but Ethan was the first to look away. He couldn't hold that gaze. Not right now.

And Noah didn't press. He didn't speak, didn't move. The silence returned, lingering longer than before, thick as the night air around them. Only now, the breeze had shifted-it was no longer a gentle whisper. It felt colder. Sharper. Like it, too, had changed.

Minutes passed in uneasy stillness.

Then, without a word, Ethan pushed himself up from the chair, his movements slow, almost hesitant. Behind him, Noah remained rooted, his gaze never leaving Ethan's back.

"How long are you planning on not seeing it?" Noah's voice finally cut through the silence. Calm, but edged with something sharper-frustration, maybe. Or worry.

Ethan didn't respond.

Noah exhaled, almost scoffing under his breath. "The only thing I thought was left was you getting into a fight with some street thug... but you checked that off today too, huh?"

Ethan's eyes flickered, his breath catching. He hadn't expected that. He hadn't expected him to mention this.

So Noah knew.