Cold rushed under Alyssa's skin that had nothing to do with the slight ambient chill of the winter air, pressing around the spreading warmth from the flaming brazier. Fingers skimming the side of her mug, she masked her unease with a smile.

"Well, I'll be back at some point to visit. But that probably won't happen until closer to summer—when things calm down with work."

"Work?" The shock of confusion in his voice chilled her further and it took every ounce of strength she had to drag her eyes from that full, bright sun and up to his seeking gaze.

"I got a call the other day, from the company I used to work for."

"The one that fired you." His abrupt tone scored down her spine, bringing her own frustration to the surface.

"Yes, the one that fired me," she said, no longer too intimidated to meet his piercing eyes. "They saw the news coverage about the recent re-launch of the gallery and were impressed. The Board feels they made a mistake and have asked I come back to both a promotion and a sizeable salary increase."

"And you said yes?" he demanded, incredulous.

"Not yet. I'm flying out on Tuesday to meet with them to discuss the details."

His mouth flopped open and the whites around his eyes expanded. For a second he gaped at her before his voice stuttered out in halting breaths. "Why didn't you say something? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm telling you now."

"Jesus Christ!" Whirling away from her, Ethan's hands dove in his hair, biceps bunching from the movement. Pacing, he dragged them back down his face and held there a second before letting them fall away, eyes burning. "You're going back?"

"That was always the plan," she said. "You knew that. I've spent too much time entrenched in the past—I need to go back, get my life sorted out. Figure out what I need."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I need to do this. I need to work. I need to be challenged and pushed. I've stayed idle long enough. My career is important to me. And if things don't go well on Tuesday with Schulman's, worst case I have more than a few contacts and client references to nudge open doors wherever I want. Toronto, New York—hell, even Paris. I can go anywhere."

"So why not here?" he seethed, advancing on her. "What about Eva's Initiative?"

"Eva's. Keyword." She said, drumming a finger against the varnished banister she leaned against. "Not Alyssa's. Alyssa's initiative has always been about getting her life back."

"I can't believe that—that you'd put in all that time, energy and effort to walk away like it didn't mean a goddamn thing?"

            No, they weren't talking about the gallery or the work she'd put into it anymore. They'd blown past that a long time ago.

            "Ethan," she said, setting down her mug so she could reach for him, looping her arms around his waist. "You know I care about you. I do."

            "But not enough," he finished for her. "Not enough to stay." He peeled her hands off of him, stepped away.

            "Come on. Please. Don't make this harder than it needs to be. We were clear from the beginning—this wasn't supposed to be anything."

"Well too bad because it is fucking something—to me!" Furious he snatched her mug, hurled it against the wall. Ceramic shattered, raining white fragments and coffee. Chest heaving he glared at her, grief and fury clashing with his features, making him breathtaking in the ferocity of his emotion. "Can't you see they're using you? You're hitched to a massive overnight success." His hands caught her shoulders and he rattled her with a deft shake. "Of course they want you now."

Offended by the implication, Alyssa's spine snapped straight as she jerked out of his grasp. "I worked hard for that promotion. I deserve it, and I will be damned if I'm going to stand here and let you make me feel ashamed for wanting to take back what I'm owed."

"That's not what I meant and you know it. You're worth more, Alyssa. And I would never dream of holding you back if I thought your heart was truly in it. Why does it have to be one or the other? You want to work—go back to the city, fine—look me in the eye, tell me that's what you want, what you need and I'll happily give it to you. Anywhere, doesn't matter to me. That's what love is. It's compromise and sacrifice."

Shock slapped her across the face. Robbed her of breath. His words rattled her with that simple declaration far more than his temper ever could have. No, no, no, no...this wasn't happening. "You don't know what you're saying."

"Damn straight I do."

A laugh tore out of her, full of nerves and disbelief as she swept an arm around them. "You'd move away from this? Your life and home? All of it—for me?"

Ethan's gaze didn't waver. "Yes."

And that rocked her a second time. "You'd hate me. Maybe you'd manage for a month, or a year, but some day you'd hate me. For pushing you to walk away from what you love. For failing you..." As her voice broke she sucked in a breath, and her weakening resolve.

"Alyssa..." Softened by her rising grief, Ethan reached for her, but she couldn't let him touch her. Not now. If she did she'd never say what had to be said.

She crossed to the lounger and slumped into the cushioned seat. Arms wrapped around her waist, Alyssa fought against the urge to curl up and weep. She'd never said the words aloud to anyone. Not even Indy lest she somehow give them...strength. Make them real. But she had to do this for him. He deserved to know and if this was what it took for him to understand, so be it.

"Chemo is hard on the body. All that radiation and toxins. Sometimes...things happen. My doctor told me that I'd sustained some damage that would impede my ability to conceive." The weight of him settled next to her and she wanted to lean into it, to soak up his strength and comfort and, god help her, love. But Alyssa stayed fixed on her little square, pulling up as many walls as she could around herself. 

"I don't know if I'll ever be able to give you children," she said, looking at him to find he was watching her intently, hand over his mouth and eblow propped on his knee. "And if I did," she hurried on before he could speak, "what happens five years from now—twenty—when the cancer returns, only this time there's nothing they can do to stop it? What then, Ethan?"

What if she got sick again? If the cancer returned and she couldn't beat it back? What kind of sadist would she have to be to play those odds?

She knew enough about Ethan to understand that when he committed he went all the way. After suffering the loss of his first love in a hit and run accident, he'd had only a few relationships but each one he'd been invested. Jenelle had told her all about Vanessa, and Lottie had also confirmed what she'd already suspected.

It was clear as she looked at him now that Vanessa's death had, in a large part, propelled him into law enforcement. The tragedy had shaped him, is what motivated him to be so by-the-book and why he treated every case with such conviction and passion. Was why Ethan upheld himself to the strictest of standards be he couldn't stand the idea of failing those who need him most.

She was only two years into remission and it would be at least three more before she could breathe a little easier, but that possibility would weigh over her head for the rest of her life. To put him in a position where failure would not only be possible but imminent would be cruel.

She'd been down this road once before and knew exactly where it led.

Sensing her thoughts, a dark look crossed his features. "I'm not your ex-fiancé. I won't bail on you because times get tough."

"Eighty percent—"

"Don't spit statistics at me." The heat flashing in his eyes scorched her skin. "I know the numbers."

"Please Ethan. You think you know what cancer is but trust me—you don't. Seeing your mother go through it is one thing, but the woman you're involved with? Taking on that level of responsibility is hard. Caring for someone who's slowly dying before your eyes...enduring that hopelessness. I won't wish that on you. I won't saddle you with that. To be a burden..." 

"Life is not about guarantees. I'll play the odds and take those risks—with you. Only you." Taking hold of her, his hands cupped her face with surprising tenderness to contrast the heart of his earlier frustration. His eyes held hers. Went deep. Until she felt them touch her soul. "It's only you, Alyssa."

"I can't. I'm sorry, but no."

His hands fell away from her. Dropped to his lap. 

"So that's it? You got kicked in the teeth with reality, a hard knock that's got you still rattling in your boots. And you'll let that rob you of a chance at more? Of this?" He gestured between them, disgusted. "Now who's the chicken-shit?"

            "Evidently I am," she said, brushing tears from her cheeks. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong. I'm sorry this hurts you. I'm sorry I can't make you understand." Taking a calming breath, Alyssa rose while Ethan sat there. His eyes blazing and fixed on the horizon refusing to even so much as acknowledge her as she pressed a parting kiss to his brow and whispered, "Goodbye."