ain't no rest for the wicked

“What, this? Nah, just some asshole undergrad who didn’t take too kindly to being asked to save the environment. I’ll be fine…”

“So there I was, literally half naked in front of my ex-boyfriend, in his own club!” The brunette scoffed, raising her glass to her lips again. “Asolutely not the way I wanted to run into him, and surely not the way I wanted to start my job at LUX. I don’t even know if I can step foot back in there.”

“Okay, I know I look pretty young, but I was literally carded to go see a rated r movie and I didn’t even know they still did that,” the redhead looked over as she raised her hands up in a confused manner. “And for the record, I even had a glass of wine in my hand, so it was clear that I was over twenty one. i am thinking he just was having a bad night and took it out on someone else.”

         “I don’t feel my right hand anymore.” Louis dropped down onto a chair at the table he spotted a familiar face at, a cup of steaming hot coffee in his left hand that he put down on the table. “I’m pretty sure this kid cut off my entire blood circulation while they stitched up his chin.” He stretched the fingers of his right hand, as if to get the blood to start moving normally again. Looking over at Ethan, he managed a crooked smile. “How’s your shift going?” ( @ethankams​ )

It was the first time she’d woken up in Ethan’s bed like this, the first time that she hadn’t left the Kaminski household shortly after putting her clothes back on. She did feel guilty about their arrangement, it was something that played on her mind whenever she thought about her own morals because it hardly seemed ethical that she was sleeping with the man who’d so recently lost his wife. He was lonely, Lottie could tell that much, and he was so used to pushing people away in every other aspect that this sexual connection and closeness was all he allowed himself. They’d gotten closer lately, spending more time talking than they did tearing each other clothes off, and she was beginning to wonder whether this could be anything more than a casual fling. A part of her, one that was growing, was beginning to hope that it could be, especially as she woke up next to him. 

Her eyes fluttered open, squinting at the morning light that was beginning to enter the room. She could feel a warm palm against her bare hip, his other hand resting against hers where it lay on his chest. Lottie let out a soft breath as she lifted her head, resting it against his shoulder and letting her hazel eyes meet his own. ‘’Morning.’’ She murmured, clearing her throat and trying to read his expression, to see whether he regretted that she had slept over like she had. There was no rule book for this kind of thing, they had never set any real boundaries other than the fact that they didn’t want his son to discover what they were doing. 

‘‘That’s okay. You were worn out, that’s what happens when you mess around with a younger woman.’‘ Lottie spoke lightly, a tease in her voice and a lightness to it all, in the hopes that it would stop things feeling awkward. Unable to help herself, she found herself leaning forward instinctively, stealing a kiss from him and humming gently, until she realised that they likely weren’t the only two people awake in the house. It made her pull back, feeling a little panicked. ‘‘Shit, will Matti be awake right now?’‘

There hadn’t been a warm body lying beside him in years, even before Rosalie’s untimely death. Their marriage had become, understandably, more rocky towards the end of her life, even after the two had decided to reconcile and start anew. Ethan slept in the den most nights, listening to the sounds of LA traffic moving slowly over the bridge near their house. The affairs with other women had ceased for the last few months, and as they began to get along once again, the doctor had convinced himself that they’d be able to share that space once again — but they never did. Despite the fact that the blonde lying into his side wasn’t the woman he’d fell in love with fifteen years ago, there was a strange sense of comfort that overtook him.

“You act like I’m a sixty-somethin’ year old man. Age ain’t got a thing to do with it,” he countered, rolling his eyes playfully. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment as she leaned in to kiss him, his hand pressing more firmly into the side of her hip as their lips melted together, surrendering himself completely — until, that is, she pulled back. As if on queue, he heard a knock on his bedroom door, followed by the voice of his twelve-year-old son asking what was for breakfast. “Shit, shit, shit,” the doctor practically leapt out of bed, grabbing the closest pair of sweatpants he could find strewn around the room before tossing Lottie an apologetic look. “One second, bud! I’ll whip you up some, uh, Fruit Loops,” Ethan called out when the boy continued knocking, stumbling over slightly as he pulled his pants over his waist. “I — give me a minute,” he mumbled to Lottie, slipping out his bedroom door as he went to get the boy ready for school.

Half an hour later, Matti had gotten on the bus, leaving the house quieter than before. A large exhale escaping his lips, Ethan finally returned to Lottie, raking his fingers through his mussed up hair. “Sorry about that. Guess I forgot to set my alarm for this morning. Shit,’ he ran a hand over his chin, moving to sit on the bed beside her. “Usually it takes a lot more yelling and arguing to get him up when he’s supposed to be.”

Elias thought it was kind of hilarious, that Ethan’s son found him so interesting when the older man despised him so much. He figured now that he knew who exactly his son was doing a report on it would eat at him that it was him of all people, and that, truthfully, would give him a good laugh for at least a little while. He didn’t really have anything to prove to the other male, and, he didn’t really care about making him like him. His eyebrows go up though, at the schoolyard comment, and he knows it’s supposed to hit harder than it does. He shrugs a single shoulder, unbothered. “Ah well, this little business people of Seattle seminar really just shows that kids apparently like me, clearly, as your Matti took quite a liking to me right away,” he adds.

He grins at Matti’s praise of LUX though, even if it’s cut short. Elias lets out a laugh that he tries to make sound like it’s genuine but even he can’t fake that. “Oh I can’t imagine you’re thinking of the right place. Must have it confused with somewhere of lesser caliber. I understand though, that it might not be your tastes, not everyone is cut out for a place like that, you know? It’s made for people with a little more…joie de vivre.”  

He was pissed off, evident by the clenched jaw and the tightening grip on Matti’s shoulder. It didn’t make sense — how the hell did his luck manage to fester in the most horrid of ways? Running into a few ex-flames, getting decked in the face by a former friend, and now this. By the way Matti had spoken to him about his mentor, Ethan figured that the guy had to be some sort of charismatic business aficionado, but the last thing he expected him to be was Elias Morgan. “Apparently,” he admitted gruffly, wondering how the hell he was supposed to deal with the situation considering the glimmer in Matti’s eye as he looked up at Elias.

“Hey, bud, how about you go grab a milkshake or something from one of the stands,” Ethan suggested, reaching into his pocket for a crumpled twenty-dollar bill before handing it to his son. Once the teenager skipped away, he turned to the club owner once again. “I don’t know what kind of sick game your playing here, Morgan, but I am not fucking comfortable with you sittin’ down with my kid  and filling his head with God knows what goes through that fucking brain of yours.”

“Stop fucking calling me Callum. Use my goddamn name. Stop trying to put some awkward distance between us just because you got too personal. I didn’t ask you to; I was just trying to help. Fucking sue me, Kaminski.” Milo was glaring now, considering he was definitely throwing a high key diva fit, as one did. “Because I want your help. If I wanted anyone else’s, I would’ve fucking asked. But I didn’t. If I thought I needed more, or that you weren’t helping me, I would’ve said something. I am so fucking tired of people walking around me on eggshells, Ethan. It’s like my family, hell, my boyfriend – they’re all holding their breath, waiting for me to possibly fuck up. I just need someone who doesn’t do that to me. Who’s never done that to me.” Ethan had always been point blank with him; hell, Ethan had been there at his lowest point. He couldn’t handle any change that meant Ethan wasn’t the one responsible for keeping him alive. “What part don’t you get about that? What, you want more money?”

Ethan looked away from the male, his words hitting a little too close to him despite knowing that they came from frustration more than anything. That had always been his biggest problem: letting people in, allowing things to become more than skin deep. His relationship with Milo was tricky, lying somewhere between what was considered friendly versus professional, but that didn’t change anything. If anything, it made the decision to separate himself all the more easy. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” he countered, as if that would make much of a difference. Furrowing his brows, he crossed his arms once again as he faced the rockstar. “You think I’m walking on eggshells around you, Milo? Really? Well, how about this for eggshells,” the doctor took a few steps closer, kneeling down so that he was right in front of his face. “You have all of these resources at your disposal and yet you choose not to utilize them. Maybe it’s out of pride, maybe it’s because you’re scared — I don’t fucking know because, like I said, I’m not a psychologist — but all I know is that you got a whole team of people behind you that you have so little faith in, it’s incredible.” His voice was calm, even-toned, despite how much he wanted to burst at the seams. “I’m not fucking Superman, and neither are you. You can take my suggestions or you can leave them, I don’t give a shit. But you can’t get pissed at me just ‘cause I’m trying  to help you.”

CLOSED STARTER FOR @ethankams​

“Hey, no come on!” He grabbed the door handle and pulled at it repeatedly as he tried to climb back inside the car, but he’d been barred of any entry after being dropped off at the corner. To be fair, the arrangement was to give the guy a quick blow job in his backseat; there had been no version of the deal where he’d be taken home and he’d get to spend the night on a bed, but he thought he’d do a good enough job to be rewarded a bonus. “Fuck you, too!” He cried out as he watched the car drive into the highway. “Asshole, his dick wasn’t even that big,” he mumbled under his breath. He saw a figure emerge from one of the stores behind him, and had to do a double take when he caught a glimpse of who it was. “Oh, hey, Doc.”

Late night beer runs weren’t exactly uncommon for the doctor, using his rare nights off from work to get himself inebriated beyond belief after Matti had been tucked away in bed. He’d maintain that he wasn’t an alcoholic — and maybe he wasn’t, but considering these runs had become somewhat of a ritual over the years, it was safe to say that it’d at least become habitual. Walking out of the store with a six pack in hand, Ethan was halfway out the door when a familiar figure caught his attention, doing everything in his power not to make a less-than-enthused expression. “Dexter,” he greeted, glancing back at the car that was speeding off into the distance. “The fuck was that about?”

The con-woman nearly commented about the power balance between them, how he was gifted the breadth to ask questions yet hers were seen as imposing, but thought better of it to avoid another argument. "He doesn’t know that I don’t.” Jules pulls up short, having slowed her pace to an eventual crawl before stopping altogether. “He just needed someone to fill the void, someone who could fit the role just like he dreamed.” And there came Juliana, like the angel from his worst nightmare to take it on. Her features turn almost distant, honesty beginning to fall from her lips once more. Perhaps the next bit came off as cruel, but it would be the most she’s ever given him in their time together. “I can play the part well, you know. Doting wife. Attentive, patient, understanding… But I’m not––” Happy. Nor herself. Juliana’s temper had been reined in for the sake of fulfilling hers and Ayşe’s ambitious endeavor, all passion and every little flaw which made her precisely who she was were stamped out. Yet maybe that was a good thing, after all she’d often wondered if her lesser attributes were what drove Ethan away permanently and hiding them kept Thomas around. For now.

“Then what did you want from me, Ethan? What could you have possibly wanted me to say, or do, or…?” Bestowing pity upon him had never been her intention and quite frankly, she was not the sort to ever do such a thing. However she could hardly fathom what outcome he intended upon telling her that his strings had been cut while hers remained knotted. “What does knowing that you’re free and I’m not get me?” If that hadn’t been revealing enough, then his own statement caught her by utter surprise. “You don’t mean that.” God how she would have killed to hear these words four years prior, how she nearly dreamt that he might loathe himself for the way in which he snipped the tether between them as if it meant nothing. “We were doing the best we could with what we knew. So if you were a piece of shit, then so was I.” Neither of them existed as perfect in the absolute lunacy of their relationship, but even now she could not deny that whatever they had, as toxic as it had been, worked beyond reason. “Do you regret it? Us?”

He doesn’t know that I don’t. It took everything in his power not to make a comment at that very statement, remembering how similar sentiments would fall from his lips only a short few years ago. He had no room to talk, to cast judgement — after all, he’d been too much of a coward to properly ask for a divorce, thinking he could have his cake and eat it, too. For a while, that worked out quite well for him, but it took losing Juliana and nearly demolishing his marriage for him to realize that. He had to admit, though, that he was surprised by how honest the words that fell from her lips were, having figured she’d put up more of a fight before giving into his less than ideal inquiries. “Do you love him?” Ethan found himself asking, immediately overcome with a sense of dread, eyes averted downward. “I’m — you don’t have to answer that. It’s none of my business.”

Letting out a huff, the male anxiously rubbed his hand against his stubbled cheek. “I didn’t even want to fucking tell you in the first place, Juliana. Why the hell do you think it took me so long in the first place? I could’a told you at the hospital, but I didn’t. Would you rather me have lied to you? Told you that she ran out on my ass, took half my money and the kid? Or the fucking truth?” He raised his hands in the air, frustrated not only by her line of questioning, but by his inability to come up with a simple answer that would satisfy. “Free?” He scoffed. “I don’t know, Jules. That’s up to you to decide.” Ethan finally managed to catch her gaze, pressing his lips together in a tight line. “I wouldn’t lie about that,” he assured, the pit in his stomach growing larger in size despite the sad chuckle that escaped him at her next words. “Never thought I’d hear you call yourself a piece a shit. Thought self-deprecation was more my thing.” The joke was ill-timed, sure, but that kind of humor was pretty on-brand for him. At the question, his features softened slightly. What was he supposed to say to that? Did he regret falling for the woman before him, head over heels, despite also being very much in love with the very person he’d said vows two over a decade prior to their torrid love affair? Swallowing thickly, the doctor exhaled. “I regret...the timing,” he replied carefully, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “Jules, I — I never wanted to hurt you. That doesn’t change anything, I know, but…” he opened his mouth to continue, though no sounds came out. Leave it to Ethan Kaminski to maintain the inability to express this emotions, no matter how rampant and deep they ran.

“Look, people think my only marketable skill is being pretty, so I like to show off a bit.” Gigi smirked, pulling the cherry stem out of her mouth, placing the tied stem on the counter. “Case in point. And I have had a bottle smash on my head while trying to throw it in the air all flashy.” She laughed. She poured herself a drink, raising the glass to her lips. “I wouldn’t call myself a sadist, but I do prefer a rougher style. And that wasn’t a no, doc.”

"Jesus, you need to start talkin’ to new people, then,” Ethan furrowed his brows, letting out a scoff when she relayed her story to him. “Please tell me the bar was fucking packed that night, it’ll make my week. You end up in the ER? Concussion, laceration?” Chuckling lightly, his gaze centered on the dark liquid in the glass. “Alright, fair. What wasn’t a no? You being a sadist? ‘Cause I already kind of figured as much, regardless of what you’re tryin’a tell me.”

Milo was still pacing, barely able to stop himself even as Ethan kept talking. He didn’t want to see a psychologist. He didn’t need one; that much he was adamant about. That’s where people went when they were feeling crazy, and it wasn’t like Milo could be on medication. Psychiatric help would’ve given him that. “Why? Because you can’t fucking treat me like a friend; you have to treat me like your fucking problem patient?” Milo was starting to feel crazy, something he’d hoped he’d gotten a handle on months ago. Instead, he felt like that control was slipping from his grasp yet again. “I don’t know what you’re fucking talking about! We were talking about you and not my problems. Now all of the sudden it’s my fuckin’ issue, and I need to see a psychologist. You’re the one who said to call you, and well sorry I fucking had to. Next time I’ll shove some cocaine up my nose and call it a day.”

Ethan rubbed a hand over his chin as Milo began to go off on a tirade, wondering how the hell he’d managed to cause the very thing he’d come over to prevent from happening. As much as he wanted to help, wanted to usher the male into a better life full of health and wellness, he didn’t know how. Not the way he needed, at least. “You are my patient, Callum. You’ve always been my patient,” he shot back, though he knew that wasn’t what he meant. “None of this is about me — I didn’t come all the way out here at two in the fucking morning to talk about my issues,” Ethan scoffed. “Oh, stop being dramatic. I told you to talk to a professional, not jump off the golden gate bridge,” he shook his head. “You know what, you asked for my help. You asked me. I’ve dealt with enough of these little tantrums of yours to know that you gotta make that decision for yourself, but don’t shoot the fucking messenger, Callum.”

If he was being honest, normally this wasn’t his kind of party. In years past, he’d much prefer something with a little less children running about on a sugar high and a little more of a different kind of high, scantily glad men and women running about instead. But this year his normal party at LUX just didn’t feel right. Like something was missing, and once he realized what that something was, well, he found himself celebrating one of his favorite holidays a lot more tamely than he would’ve have liked.

He was in the middle of a conversation with someone when they were dragged off by a friend, which mostly left him along with his drink, considering going off and finding Casey and getting out of here, or going to smoke one last cigarette before he did that. He decides on the latter, and is just about to finish his drink when there’s a small human standing in front of him. This one, he doesn’t mind, a significant lack of sticky fingers and he isn’t as annoying as kids can be. Elias grins at the kid “Matti! That’s quite a costume, certainly something I’d pick out myself” he praises, to which he responds with an excited “Thanks Mr. Morgan! Oh, my dad’s here too, you should meet him!” he says, just as someone Elias definitely does not want to meet walks up. Ethan. Ah. He puts on a grin that’s far too saccharine to be real, practiced to read as it is though. “Interviewing for his mentor project, yes, because every young kid needs someone to look up to” he adds, trying to fight off the smirk that’s threatening to play on his lips.  “Didn’t talk too much about his dad in our talks, had a lot of interesting things to cover, you see. Or maybe I would’ve put two and two together,” he looks at Matti for a moment before looking back up at Ethan, eyebrows raising. 

Losing his cool in front of the young boy wasn’t exactly an option, not when he’d already been treading on such thin ice with him as of late, anyway. Not that Ethan normally cared whether his son was displeased with him — he was the parent, after all, but lately Matti’s defiance had become somewhat justifiable, beginning with his father coming home with a black eye and refusing to address it. He’d come to an age where he was a hell of a lot smarter than the man gave him credit for, and Ethan was beginning to think he’d need to watch his own actions more carefully less the acting out get worse. “Funny. I didn’t take you as the type that would be allowed anywhere near a schoolyard,” he let out a laugh, trying to match the shit-eating grin that Elias so confidently wore as he played his words off as a simple joke. “Dad, Mr. Morgan owns the coolest place in town. It’s called LUX, and —” Ethan gave the boy’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’ve been there, actually,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “I wouldn’t say it’s the coolest place in town. Drinks get a little watered down from time to time, but I’m sure that’s just the price of doing business.”

Milo followed Ethan’s form as the man stood up, not at all regretting what he had already said. He tilted his head a little, “No one is really proud of it, but it’s already done and over with. How many people did you cheat with? Or was it just one?” He crossed his arms over his chest as well, though the doctor’s next words had him panicking. The smile was almost completely gone from his face, and he sat up, “What?” Milo stood up finally, already feeling himself panic. It settled in like a second skin, and he moved towards Ethan, “No. No, that’s not happening. I can’t – I can’t have anyone else, Ethan. I can’t. I won’t.” He breathed out, shaking his head and beginning to pace. Milo needed to control certain aspects of his life, and who his doctor was one of them. If he didn’t have some semblance of control, everything would fall apart. He just knew it. “I can’t have anyone else. They don’t know me.”

He turned away from the rockstar, wondering how the hell he’d allowed this conversation to go on up to this point. Sharing details of his personal life — especially the dark details — wasn’t something that often did, mostly in the name of self-preservation. As far as he knew, Milo didn’t deserve to learn of any of the skeletons in his closet. So, why was he mentioning them? “I’m done with this conversation, Callum. I shouldn’t be talking about any of this with you in the first place,” he retorted, facing him once again. “Get this through your head, hot shot: I am not a psychologist. I can only help you so much before I do more harm than good.” Ethan arched his eyebrows. “I’ll still be your doctor, but I ain’t fucking Superman. I can’t fix everything and, frankly, if you want me to keep helpin’ out, you’re gonna have to meet me halfway.”

"Not recently, no. But I did about four years ago. And I wouldn’t tell you anyway, it might spoil the surprise.” Her own heartache was far easier to jest about given the amount of time which had passed, but even now it stung to recall the ways in which she’d grieved the loss of their relationship. “Is that all you remember? The bad parts?” As multitudinous as those had been, Jules could also pinpoint their better moments as well, even if recalling them now felt taboo and dangerous all things considered. “Now who’s interrogating who?” Quipped back as if she might not answer him fully before a sigh escaped. “I didn’t marry him for his personality. He loved me, and he was stable, and I needed that.” Ethan wouldn’t see it as financially stable, but for the first time since their initial meeting, Juliana hadn’t lied to him about her motives. “Inconvenient for who? Stop being such a baby, I wasn’t even complaining before you brought it up.” Silence fell over them and yet another jumper popped out, this time a gruesome doctor who did not resemble the man at her side in the least. She felt herself startle again, this time clasping at her own chest rather than the man whose arm offered temptation. 

They walk further and as a stillness fell over the duo once more, he popped the most unanticipated question of all. “What did you want me to say, Ethan?” She’s stopped walking now, features no longer displaying a coy mischief and rather lightly betraying her well concealed emotion towards the subject matter. “I can’t be the good guy here and say that I’ll remember her fondly, or that I feel sad that she’s gone because I don’t. I’m sorry you and Matti are hurting, I feel terrible for that. I really do.” The only variation of this which truly tugged at her long dormant heart strings. “But I wasn’t going to sit there and pretend that I cared about her. If I did then I wouldn’t have been with you, I wouldn’t have––” Fallen in love with her husband. “It doesn’t matter. She’s gone and I’m sorry for your family. That’s all there is.” With that, she moved to brush past him and forget the entire subject.

"Good to know my reputation has improved a bit since then,” his tongue poked at the inside of his cheek, finding it difficult to look at her when mentions of his actions against her were brought to light even in jest. Ethan had done a lot of things in his life, many of which he was far from proud of, and even despite that realization it took a hell of a lot out of him to relive it. “What? No, that’s not all I remember. Didn’t we already go over this?” he looked at her, brows furrowed. “Can’t help it if I have a couple’a questions.” That was the simpler way of putting it. Four years had passed since they’d last seen each other, and while he’d expected things would change during that time, he could never have imagined just how much. Especially on her end. “So, what does he get out of it? Marrying someone who doesn’t feel the same? You said it yourself; you needed someone stable. What did he need?” He was treading on thin ice with his line of questioning, but ever the blunt one, he didn’t quite care. The doctor had a bad habit of running his mouth, his impulsive nature tending to get the best of him before anything else. “Jesus, never mind. It doesn’t matter,” he waved a hand dismissively, flinching when another staff member popped out at them. Shit, this was beginning to become irritating. 

Exhaling, Ethan paused his stride as well, turning to face her fully with a tired expression on his face. “I —” he looked away, shaking his head as she continued on, their respective facades seemingly melting away onto the grassy pavement. Juliana was right; she couldn’t pretend to feel something that she didn’t, and he knew that. Truthfully, he didn’t know what kind of reaction he was expecting when he told her, but a quick exit surely wasn’t one of them. “You can’t expect to walk out right after I dropped that on you and think I’m just gonna forget about it. Jesus Christ, Jules, I don’t want your pity. I don’t want anyone’s anymore,” Ethan scoffed, following her further into the maze. “I just — you know what? Fuck me for thinking you might deserve to know. Maybe I should’ve told you from the beginning, but seeing you after all this fucking time made me really fucking hate myself all over again ‘cause of what a piece of shit I was when you and I were together,” he pressed a hand to his forehead frustratedly. “Rosalie didn’t leave me. She came real damn close, but instead, she died. Just like that. And now...” Trailing off, Ethan met Juliana’s gaze once more, jaw clenching. “It doesn’t matter. It’s done, it’s over. Let’s just finish this fucking maze and get on with it.”

"Ah, but see I wouldn’t be killing thirty people. Just you.” Another corner rounded and they came to a dead end, albeit without a monster awaiting them so that provided a moment of relief. “Of course you can, with anybody else. You know I won’t let the opportunity to bother you pass me by.” A tease, but it echoed with a very real sentiment that Jules would always exist to challenge him, regardless of the time which had passed. “I recall being very patient under the right circumstances,” she volleyed back almost too boldly. “But the details of his job don’t interest me. If he wants to be boring, he can do it when I’m not around.” Few people, men in particular, possessed the ability to hold her attention for longer than a few moments. Then again perhaps their fault existed in that none of them were Ethan Kaminski. “Tonight is the one night of the year when we can dress like this without shame. Don’t even try to pretend as if your eyes haven’t been wandering to every cheerleader or witch in a tiny skirt.” The offering of his sweatshirt forced Juliana to come up short with a quip, hues flickering between the gesture and his face as if this were a test of her own fortitude. If it had been, then she failed unquestioningly as fingertips reached out to gingerly take the garment from his hand. “Thank you.”

"Fair. I’m assuming you’ve given this a decent amount of thought. What’ll it be — poison? Decapitation? Tie my shoelaces around my neck?” he asked wryly, nose twitching slightly when they came to a dead end. “Yeah, it’s really fucking annoying.” The doctor turned to look at her, shoulders squared as they effortlessly entered a game of wits, though while his tended to be blunt and deprecating, Juliana’s were purposeful and volatile. It was a wonder how they were able to stand one another, obvious unpleasantries aside. “Right. Because there was plenty of those with us.” he mumbled. “So, him being ‘boring’ is the reason you sometimes leave the ring at home?” Ethan couldn’t help himself, the image of her ringless finger the other night in the bar far too familiar of a sight for his own liking. There’d been no closure there — but, on the other hand, maybe he didn’t quite deserve for there to be. “Oh, stop. I never said that I thought it was stupid, just inconvenient as fuck.” He tossed back failing to address the assumption about his wandering eye (that wasn’t exactly false). Nodding as she took his sweatshirt, he began to retreat, leading them toward a new direction in the maze. A moment of silence passed between them, one that felt far too uncomfortable for his own liking. Perhaps that’s why he launched into his next question, one meant to break the ice despite the lack of, well, tact. “The, uh, ‘dead wife’ thing really got you the other night, didn’t it?”