The Day He Went Away Read online

  The Day He Went Away

  by

  Jennifer Millikin

  Contents

  Dedication

  1. Kate

  2. Ethan

  3. Kate

  4. Ethan

  5. Kate

  6. Ethan

  7. Kate

  8. Ethan

  9. Kate

  10. Ethan

  11. Kate

  12. Kate

  13. Nick

  14. Kate

  15. Kate

  16. July

  17. August

  18. September

  19. October

  20. Nick

  21. Kate

  22. Kate

  23. Kate

  24. Nick

  25. Kate

  26. Kate

  27. Kate

  28. Nick

  29. Kate

  30. Kate

  31. Kate

  32. Nick

  33. Kate

  34. Kate

  35. Kate

  36. Nick

  37. Kate

  38. Six months later

  Other Works by this Author

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2016 by Jennifer Millikin

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  JNM, LLC

  Scottsdale, AZ

  [email protected]

  Cover design by Sarah Hansen at www.okaycreations.com

  Editing by Robin Patchen of Robin’s Red Pen

  ISBN-10: 0-9967845-3-5

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9967845-3-5

  Dedication

  To Tyler Prewitt.

  Thank you for everything you’ve given me.

  1

  Kate

  His hands are on my hips. He squeezes, fingers digging into my skin, and I like it. I try to open my eyes but they won’t obey. I don’t know who’s making me feel this way, but I know I’m not scared. His five o’clock shadow gently scrapes my cheek as his face drags across mine. Just before his lips touch mine, his scent fills my nose.

  I know who it is.

  The scent of his skin is seared into my soul.

  My best friend.

  My Ethan.

  The creak of metal brings me back to reality, and I shake off the images.

  I swivel my chair and cross my ankles, pretending to listen to Belinda as she introduces her new client and the concepts she’s working on.

  The conference room at work is not the place to relive that dream. The earth-shattering, mind-bending, rule breaking dream. My Ethan dream.

  His hands. On me. Touching me in a whole new way.

  “Kate, where are you with your new client?”

  I look into the expectant eyes of my boss, Lynn, and the bright red lipstick that never seems to leave her lips.

  I clear my throat, buying myself a few seconds. Rookie move.

  “Kate and I are still in the planning phase of the Rodgers account.” Sarah, seated on my right, speaks up.

  Ethan’s fingers digging into my skin…

  Focus.

  Lynn looks at Sarah and regards her with cool eyes. She flicks her eyes back to me. “But you’re taking the lead on Rodgers, right, Kate?”

  I nod. “For the remainder of the morning I’ll concentrate on getting all the information as complete as possible and the releases perfected. I’m taking a half day today, and I'll be out until the twenty-seventh. Sarah will run with everything I’ve created. And I’ll be available for any questions or to help in any way, of course.”

  Lynn sighs. Just a tiny, barely perceptible sigh, and I hope Sarah didn’t pick up on it. Sarah is capable of completing tasks without me. Besides, I’m going to make it foolproof. Everything will be so perfect that Sarah will have to work to make a mistake.

  Lynn sets her sights on someone on the other side of the long, dark wood table, and I relax. My mind wanders back to Ethan’s lips…hands…

  A totally different hand taps my knee.

  Sarah’s giving me her irritated look.

  “Thanks for saving me,” I mouth.

  She scribbles on her notepad and slides it to me. Are you okay? That wasn’t like you.

  I give her a thumbs up and turn my attention to Lynn. I can’t be caught daydreaming again. Totally unacceptable.

  But that dream… For weeks I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. But I have to. Ethan will be here this afternoon.

  There’s work to be done before I can head to the airport. Everything needs to be handled before I can take time off from Simone PR.

  Ten days. With Ethan Shepherd.

  My best friend.

  And also the person who has been on my mind while I’m asleep.

  How many times am I going to relive the dream when I'm awake?

  I’m trying to pay attention to what Lynn’s saying, I really am, but… His scratchy face on my skin… I’m a goner. Might as well give in and let myself enjoy the daydream.

  “Kate, seriously?”

  Sarah stares down at me, hands on her hips. I look around. The room is empty. My cheeks warm.

  “I’m sorry, my mind is elsewhere today.”

  “That's clear. Want to tell me where?”

  I bite my lip. I've hardly dared to tell myself where my mind has been. There’s no way I’m telling anybody else.

  I rise from my seat and lead the way out of the now empty conference room. Sarah is on my heels.

  “We have some work to do. Let’s get to it.” I throw the directive behind me.

  I’m Kate Masters, and I’m back in control.

  ***

  It’s funny how, when I think I’m in control, something happens to remind me how wrong I am. Not haha funny, but funny like of course you have no control over Ethan’s flight home. If I’d checked my phone before I ran out of work, I would’ve known his plane is late. But I was busy, pushing it to the final second before jumping from my seat and thundering to the elevator. There had been so much to accomplish before I left.

  At work Sarah kept reminding me of the time. And asking why I’d been a space cadet in the morning meeting.

  I know something’s up. Does it have to do with Ethan?

  No, why would anything be up with Ethan?

  Because you’re taking a lot of time off work to spend with him, and you’ve been weird for weeks. And extra weird today.

  I took time off to spend with him last summer when he was home.

  But you weren’t absent minded and forgetful and—

  Weird?

  Yes.

  Everything is cool. Promise. I just need to get through all this work before I can leave.

  Now I’m sitting in front of terminal four security at the airport with forty-five minutes to spare.

  Forty-five minutes to think.

  About Ethan.

  About how Ethan and I have been best friends since we were five. Two decades.

  And about my dream. And what it means.

  I’ve never dreamed of Ethan before. Not like that, anyway.

  Ethan has always been… Well, Ethan.

  But now he’s not.

  Now he’s Ethan.

  And that terrifies me. It shakes the foundation of my life. I’ve spent a lot of time building the solid, stable floor I stand on. Having feelings for Ethan
is like taking a sledgehammer to one of the wooden planks. I need Ethan the way I need air and water to live. Ethan’s unyielding, loyal friendship is my safe haven. He’s the only person I don’t try to be perfect for. Everyone else… They expect it. Perfection. And I don’t do disappointment.

  But these feelings… They’ve consumed me. Infiltrated my heart and swallowed me whole.

  And they’re already affecting my behavior. Last night he called from the airport in Germany, and I turned into a thirteen-year-old with a crush, stammering and sweating. When he asked what was wrong, I assured him I was great, just preoccupied with work. He believed me. I think.

  What if I told him everything?

  I know what would happen.

  I sigh and glance at the time on my phone. Twenty more minutes until he arrives. I look up, survey the weaving security line, watch the TSA employees with their stiff shoulders, and look again at the stream of people exiting the concourses, fresh from their flight’s arrival. My fingers tap my knees. I need a change of scenery. These gray walls are driving me crazy. Or maybe it’s me and all this overthinking.

  I rise from the seat I’ve been planted in too long. The blood rushes into my left foot, and it tingles. I wobble, but make it to the restroom without an embarrassing scene.

  Instead of walking toward a stall, I go to the mirror. Ethan has seen me thousands of times—at my absolute best and complete worst. Still, I fuss with my hair and check my makeup. Brown hair still brown, lower lip still bigger than upper lip, one ear still a millimeter higher than the other. Makeup in place. I look down at my red shirt, happy I remembered clothes to change into. I didn’t want to greet Ethan in my sensible blouse and gray slacks. It’s possible I chose this color for a reason…

  After all our years together, physical appearance falls low on the yardstick by which we measure one another. We’d made mud pies together, scraped our knees on the harsh asphalt of the street we grew up on, and spent days cooped up together while we battled chicken pox. Our pain, happiness, heartbreaks, and successes are wrapped up within each other, intertwined in a way only time can accomplish.

  My fingers curl around the edge of the sink, knuckles growing whiter. If I let these feelings take control, things might not end well.

  Our friendship is strong, but feelings like this make us fragile.

  The strength of our relationship has been the one thing I could always count on. While I was busy achieving, accomplishing, mastering, Ethan was by my side. He’s the only person who didn’t need me to achieve, accomplish, or master in order to love me.

  Something implicit exists between us, an unspoken declaration, and it states that nothing will ever divide us. I felt it the day I watched a moving truck pull up to the empty house across the street. A little boy bounded out and somersaulted his way across the front yard, and my five-year-old self knew. Twenty years together hasn’t changed it.

  I look into the mirror and watch the emotions ripple over my face. Excitement, fear, apprehension. Fear dominates.

  But there isn’t anything concrete to be scared of. I can’t reach out and take hold of what has my heart racing.

  My fear is a shadow, pursuing me soundlessly. If you tell him you have feelings for him, you’ll lose. Would you really risk Ethan? He’s your biggest fan, your other half, your… soulmate. I shake my head. I can’t think like that.

  “Get it together, Masters.” Saying my last name out loud makes me feel better. Like I’m in control. Kate will Master it… Master of Everything. I loved those nicknames at first, but now they’re a reminder of the impossibly high expectations people had for me. Or maybe I just had them for myself. With a last name like Masters, what else could I become but an over-achieving perfectionist? Of course, the last name didn’t rub off on my little brother. I picture him tucking his wild, shoulder length hair behind his ears, and shake my head. Running an organic beet farm… The opposite of everything my dad wanted for him. I’ve given Noah the grief my dad would have, if he were alive. Honestly, it’s probably time to let my little brother own his career choice, as exasperating as it is.

  Running off to Noah's modest farm in Oregon doesn’t sound too bad right now. I’d love to escape my mind for a while.

  Stop being unrealistic. I need to deal with these feelings. I need to be practical, pragmatic, level-headed, and logical.

  Telling Ethan about my dream would be foolish. Telling him about how I can’t stop thinking of him would be irrational. What I need to do is forget about it.

  Because I know how he would respond if I came clean.

  My dependable, loyal, compassionate Ethan. He’s been in love with me for ten years. And he’s never been shy about telling me.

  Once a year, on our shared birthday, he asks if I’ve changed my mind yet.

  His caramel eyes radiate with hope after the question leaves his lips. And I always tell him no.

  But now… My God, what am I doing?

  I can’t.

  Absolutely, unequivocally, without a doubt.

  I need to do less dreaming and more forgetting.

  The fear in my seizing stomach tells me I’m making the right choice. If I give in to my feelings and Ethan and I fail at a relationship, I’ll lose him forever.

  I cannot tolerate a life without Ethan. So my mouth will stay shut.

  His visit home will be like all the others. We’ll have order, structure, and solid plans. I like those things, I need those things. And Ethan understands that about me. He’s always been that for me. Nobody knows me like Ethan.

  I just want us, the Kate and Ethan I’m used to. Ease embodies our time together, like an old, comfy sweatshirt, worn from time and use, but continuing to serve its purpose. We’re sweatshirts.

  If I tell him…well, we won’t be sweatshirts anymore. We’ll be crisp and stiff, new clothes from a new store.

  And I can’t have that. I need my best friend.

  ***

  The bright lights of the airport blind me when I walk out of the women’s room. I blink a few times. It’s louder now. Lots of people, enthusiastic greetings. I stand on the periphery and scan the area.

  There he is, walking down the long, wide hallway, away from the concourse. Ethan! My insides go topsy-turvy, my heart hammers like it wants to leap out of me and run to him. Calm down. He’s still the same person you’ve known since before you could ride a bike.

  Ethan strides past security and slows, peering around and above the people who are in the midst of their own reunions.

  His jet black hair shines in the light overhead. For a brief moment, I’m struck by how different he looks. It’s not the classic military hair cut or the tan fatigues he’s wearing that make him look so different. It’s his face, his shoulders, his chest, even his neck, that have changed. He looks so big, so strong.

  Something even more alarming than Ethan’s changed appearance is snaking its way through me. The warmth spreads, starting in my heart and running out to the tips of my fingers and all the way down to my toes. My skin feels alive.

  Desire. That’s what this feeling is. My brain tells my body to stop, but my body isn’t listening.

  Ethan hasn't seen me yet. Petite girl problems. His warm brown eyes continue to scan the throng of people. I’m halfway to him when his eyes meet mine. His face lights up.

  My feet accelerate. Deftly I dodge elbows and purses as I make my way toward him. I smile, but he just stares at me, transfixed, like my face isn’t the same face he’s known for most of his life. Finally, he smiles back, but his eyes continue to stare at me, absorbing me in a way that puts a blush on my cheeks.

  Ethan finally comes to life, dropping the bag from his shoulder and taking a few steps forward.

  I don’t even stop to think about what I’m doing. The talk I had with myself in the bathroom flies out the window. This is Ethan, my best friend, and I’ve missed him so much, it’s become a physical ache.

  As soon as we’re close enough I launch myself at him. My legs wrap around
his waist and he catches me, arms encircling my back, holding me up. I let my face fall into his neck, feeling comforted by what I find there. I inhale deeply, breathe him in, and his familiar scent tattoos my heart.

  I’m in love with him.

  I can lie to myself as much as I want when I’m alone. But right now, with my nose pressed to his skin, my heart knows my truth.

  His hand falls down my back, rises, falls again. My shoulders shudder and bow. My insides twist and arc, a convolution of confused excitement.

  I break first, jumping down and backing away from the circle of Ethan's arms. Heat fills my cheeks as I peek up at him.

  His eyes bore into mine. He squints, like he’s trying to wrap his mind around what just happened. I should apologize for leaping into his arms like a gazelle. My lack of control is mortifying.

  Ethan grins his beautiful, happy smile and lifts his left hand up to my face, his thumb tracing its way along my jawbone. He’s never touched me like this.

  I lean into it, forgetting myself again. I can’t help it. This must be how he felt all these years. Why did it take me so long?

  His hand is touching me. Ethan. And now my stomach is starting to feel funny, and it’s Ethan making me feel this way.

  I want to grab him and kiss him right there, in the middle of this mass of people, but I don’t.

  I take a step back, forcing his hand to drop. His eyebrows draw together as though he’s trying to solve a difficult math problem. Well, haven’t you been a difficult problem for years? And now you’re acting like this.