Ethan didn’t come home until near dawn. He slipped inside, quickly showered, and climbed into bed beside me like nothing had happened. Without saying a word, he wrapped his arms around me and fell asleep.
By the time he woke, I was already dressed and packed my bags.
“Claire, what are you doing?” he asked, alarmed.
I kept my tone even, not meeting his gaze. “Getting my visa.”
Ethan’s face paled. He scrambled out of bed, barefoot, and grabbed my arm. “Claire, I…” He stuttered, struggling to form a complete sentence.
I looked at him, my expression cold and unmoving. “What is it?”
He opened his mouth but couldn’t seem to find the words.
“Didn’t you promise to take me to Iceland?” I reminded him.
Relief flashed across his face as he remembered. “Oh! That’s right. Silly me. I’ve been so swamped I forgot. I’m an idiot.” He chuckled nervously, slapping his forehead. “Wait for me. I’ll get dressed and go with you.”
He started toward the bathroom, but I stopped him in his tracks. “Ethan...”
He turned back, his eyes darting nervously.
“Why are you so on edge?” I asked, staring straight into him.
CLAIRE'S POV