The night after taking Grayson to the doctor, and making sure there was a full bottle of Advil on his nightstand, I climbed into bed before Ethan. I was simply exhausted. I mentally ran through my list of things to do the next day when I realized it was 1 am, and Ethan should have been in bed by now. I sleepily pulled the covers off of my body and stopped to check on Grayson. He was in bed, shockingly. The wrist injury had slowed him down, and thank God it did.
I quietly tiptoed into the living room. He wasn't there. A shadow shifted in the backyard, making me gasp and jump. I hurried out and saw Ethan sitting on the edge of the pool, legs halfway in. I sighed in exasperation. The moon was covered by cloudy fog, the pots of plants around Ethan were dead, something Bryant and I had neglected.
I slowly approached him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. He didn't move a muscle.
"Ethan?" I ventured quietly. He nodded curtly. I sat down next to him, dipping my toes in the pool. I was met with icy water.
"Jesus! That's cold, E. How are you not freezing?" I asked, quickly tucking my toes underneath me, sitting indian style.
"Stopped paying to heat it," Ethan said roughly.
"Ah," I hummed, waiting a beat before I asked my next question. "Why are you out here anyway?"
"I don't think I'm human," Ethan said decisively, the clearest I've heard his voice in a while.
"What?" I said, thoroughly confused.
"I don't feel anything," Ethan said forcefully. "Ever since dad died..."
He rubbed his eyes. "I just don't feel anything. And there's nothing I can do about it."
"Can you feel this?" I inquired, sharply poking his side.
"Yes, Emma, I'm talking about-" Ethan started, grabbing my hand to stop me.
"How about this?" I tested, tickling his sides. I got him to chuckle once before he pushed my hands away.
"I know you're trying to make me feel better but-" Ethan began.
I lowered my voice. "Can you feel this?" I asked, leaning in and kissing him slowly. He responded, gently cupping the back of my neck.
"Yes, I can feel that," he admitted, pulling away. I noticed one tear streak down his cheek.
"Ethan, I know you don't feel your best right now, and that's okay. Everyone deals with grief differently." I consoled him.
"I just want to be happy again," he whimpered. The pathetic tone of his voice made my heart ache.
"You will be, Ethan, I swear it," I insisted, gripping his hands. "We can get through this. You and me and Grayson and Cameron and everyone. I promise. It just takes time."
He nodded, but I wanted a better answer.
"Okay?" I asked.
"Okay," he confirmed. And with that, I helped him up. We entered the house, and goosebumps immediately pricked up on Ethan's bare chest from the change in temperature.
"Get in the shower," I suggested. "I'll be in bed,"
He stepped out of the bathroom with wet hair and climbed in next to me.
"I'm worried about Grayson, Emma," he informed me. I opened my sleepy eyes.
"Me, too," I admitted.
"He doesn't talk to me anymore," Ethan continued. "I think he feels... not like a human either."
"Tell him that," I suggested.
"It's not that easy." he chided.
"I know, but it's a start," I insisted. "If he knows you feel like he does, it won't make him feel as alone."
"I think he's going to hurt himself," Ethan whispered.
"He already has," I said despairingly. "His wrist will take 6 weeks to heal."
"Yeah, his exercise habits are bad, I know," Ethan insisted, "but what if he hurts himself more...you know, permanently."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I don't know, he's an adrenaline junkie, he might do something dangerous. Impulsively." Ethan explained.
"We'll figure it out, Ethan, I promise," I said, scooting closer to him. He wrapped me in his arms, pulling me into him.
"I love you,"
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