Bittersweet Expectations (Hate at First Flight #0.5)

51. You Never Have to Ask

I had waited.

And I had hoped.

But with each day that had passed since Ethan Clarke read my message, with each minute that went by without a reply, I had lost that hope.

He didn't want to give me a chance. He didn't even want to see me.

And it wasn't his fault.

It was well and truly all my fault.

And even as my heart had slowly broken over the past week since I had sent it, I had just as slowly learnt to accept it.

And it was time to move on and start a new chapter.

It was time to live my life and make it count.

The next day, Gerard and Elizabeth took a day off and we went to have a picnic at Central Park. I had told them that I was leaving on Tuesday yesterday and they had instantly planned the picnic.

Gerard had made sandwiches, quiches, salad and even mini pizzas. Well enough to feed an army.

"You have to make sure to visit us at the very least once a week," Elizabeth said as we finished only a third of the spread that Gerard had prepared.

I felt like a beached whale as I giggled quietly, worrying that I would explode if I did any louder. "I'll swing by every now and then to say hi and help out," I suggested, not missing the way that Gerard's arms wrapped around Elizabeth's waist as she leaned into him.

I tried not to smile at the thought of them together. They were perfect for one another.

"You know Mr Clarke loves having you read for him," Elizabeth countered as she put on her puppy dog eyes that always had Gerard putty in her hands.

I laughed at her as she continued on to pouting. "I promise I will make an effort to swing by every week," I conceded which was then quickly followed by her shrieks of happiness.

"Have you spoken to Mr Clarke?" Gerard asked, and instantly my body tensed as I bit my lower lip.

My eyes lingered on the piece of strawberry shortcake that sat in front of me and I grabbed a spoon and dug into the cake. But I didn't eat it, worried that I would choke as the dread over this conversation set in.

"Mr Clarke?" I asked, letting out a giggle that sounded forced even to my ears. "Of course," I added, trying to bring back the lightness to my voice. "I had told him this morning when I went to read to him."

Silence echoed and we all knew that Gerard hadn't been referring to Mr Clarke. He was referring to Ethan Clarke. Ethan who had still not returned to Building X.

Of course, they would've guessed at it. Guessed that something had happened even if they didn't know the full story. Everyone had stated wondering out loud as to why Ethan Clarke hadn't returned back home for the past two weeks and nothing really got passed Gerard. It was like he had eyes behind his head and the walls had ears that reported back to him.

"Sweetie," Gerard began, a tinge of worry laced his tone, "I've done my fair share of running when I was younger."

My eyes darted to his at the sudden change of topic. Gerard looked at me with his usual warm fatherly gaze. Concern was also just as evident.

"Running as a sport, sometimes in the figurative sense. From reality, regrets and even love. That... that is something I regret the most," Gerard said, his eyes hazy as he escaped into a memory.

I bit my lower lip nervously as Elizabeth placed a hand on Gerard's arm and squeezed it gently.

"Some of those races I won by sheer luck, some with grit, but never..." his eyes rested on mine and it held such pain that my stomach tightened at the sight, "never has anyone, not even me won by running away from someone you love. It always leave behind regrets that haunt you with every breath you take."