Chapter 9: The Truth About Bea

The first night was the worst. Ethan had to hold Bea while she threw up several more times, to the point where he almost forgot his promise and took her to the hospital. Instead, he had her drink a lot of Gatorade—something she was not at all happy about—and managed to get a little chicken broth in her, as well. It was nearly dawn by the time Bea settled enough to sleep. Ethan was holding her, gently rubbing her back, when she finally drifted off.

Her fever had gone down enough by the time they awoke that afternoon that he wasn’t in a hurry to get her to the hospital. Bea was able to eat a little bit of toast and sit up on the couch for a while and watch T.V. She was surprisingly docile throughout the day, doing what he told her to without argument. Ethan thought she was adorable when she was being obedient, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. Somehow, he got the feeling that even sick, she wouldn’t let him get away with it.

That second night, when Ethan had tucked her into bed and turned to leave, she’d grabbed the end of his shirt. Bea didn’t have to say anything; the look in her soft jade eyes spoke loudly enough. Amazingly enough, he had no trouble at all falling asleep with her curled up against him. Both of them slept peacefully that night.

The third day, her fever was nearly gone. And I need to get back to work soon, Ethan thought, as he filled yet another glass full of Gatorade. It was getting late, and he should really be putting Bea to bed, but she was getting restless today. God, what am I, a housewife? he wondered, as he headed into his room. I like taking care of people way too much. Bea’s vulnerability was so ... so...

Sexy, Ethan thought, pausing in the doorway of his bedroom. She was curled up on his bed, the blankets kicked mostly aside, baring her legs. Bea was wearing only one of his t-shirts, which was much too large on her. Her hair was stark against his pillow, laid out like deep crimson silk. Those soft jade eyes watched him, full of the hint of a smile that played at the edges of her lips. It was a shy smile, not her usual teasing smile. She’s needed me these past few days, Ethan thought, as he handed her the glass of Gatorade and helped her sit up. It felt good to be needed.

“Thanks,” Bea said, taking a sip from the glass. “God, I didn’t like this stuff to begin with. Now I just can’t stand it. Maybe I should have gone to the hospital.”

“You would have gotten the same thing,” Ethan told her, sitting down on the bed next to her. “Except in the hospital, it doesn’t come in flavors, and they give it to you through an I.V.”

Bea grimaced. “On second thought, this stuff ain’t so bad.”

Ethan laughed. He watched her down half the glass, then put it aside, wrinkling his nose. I could almost forget what I know about her, he thought, watching the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She seems so innocent right now... He stomped down hard on that line of thinking; that was what had started all this in the first place. Ethan reached over, catching that wayward strand of hair in his fingers. Suddenly he wanted to kiss her more than he’d wanted anything in a very long time.

He made it a soft, gentle kiss, a quick, chaste little thing, so he wouldn’t give her the wrong idea. It was enough; it had to be. Ethan scooted up onto the bed with her, sighing as she curled instinctively against his side.

“I have to know,” Ethan said quietly. He touched a finger to her lips before she could speak. “I know, Bea, that I’ve been unfair to you. There are reasons I feel the way I do and... I’m not sure I’m ready to explain. But...” He sighed, shrugging. “I guess this isn’t fair of me, once again, but I need to know about you because otherwise...”

She didn’t have to ask him what he was talking about, he was sure of it. Bea looked away from him and he was certain he’d made things worse than before. It’s not so easy anymore, Ethan thought, to tell someone what I’m feeling. He couldn’t love someone until he knew enough about them, but he certainly liked Bea more than anyone in a long time.

“Sometimes the truth is worse than the rumors,” Bea said quietly. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Unless you really are the Whore of Babylon,” Ethan said, “and I doubt you are, I don’t think it can be much worse.” He shrugged. “People already assume the worst about your reputation. I’d like to know the truth, no matter how bad, before I make any more assumptions.”

“I think you were trying to be humorous,” Bea said, blinking at him. She sighed. “Well, all right, you asked for it... try to remember that when you see how disgusting I am... I was twelve... and he was eighteen.” She paused and smiled, a small, self-mocking smile. “God, I was so stupidly in love.”

Twelve? Ethan thought, his eyes widening slightly. He looked her over, tried to imagine her at twelve. Girls were growing up much, much too fast these days. Even at this age, with what he knew, she could look so sweet and vulnerable, he thought, clenching his fingers to keep himself from going after that wayward strand again. She must have been such a darling at twelve. If she had been Ethan’s sister, or even his friend, he probably would have given hell to any guy who looked at her for too long.