She looked at him. Yes, she said I did. I thought about you after. He was looking at her with an expression that was probably genuine and was absolutely 3 years too late. More than I let myself admit.
Ethan. Her voice was quiet, not angry. Why are you telling me this now? Because I see you with him, he said, and the careful composure cracked slightly, something rarer showing through. And I keep thinking that should have been me staying being what you needed.
I was too afraid or too stupid or it doesn't matter which. She said he blinked. It doesn't matter. She said again whether it was fear or stupidity or something else entirely. It happened.
You left. I put myself back together and you came back here with your wife and you are standing in my shop telling me you made a mistake. And I need you to hear what I'm about to say very clearly. He went still. You don't get to feel robbed, she said.
You made a choice. Choices have outcomes. The outcome of yours is that you lost me. And what you're watching now, me and Ryder, and whatever this is becoming, that is not something taken from you. That is just what happened because of the choice you made.
She paused. Let it settle. I'm not angry at you anymore. I want you to know that the anger went somewhere I can't find it. But I'm very very clear about the fact that you do not have a claim here.
Not on my present, not on my future, and not on whatever you feel watching me be happy. Ethan was quiet for a long time. Something worked in his face. Complicated, layered, the specific expression of a man who has understood something he'd hoped to avoid understanding. He's good to you, he said finally.
Not a question. Yes. Better than yes, she said before he could finish it. He nodded. Put his hat back on.