Chapter 2: The Spaces Between Us
The intercom was silent.
Riley stared at the sleek black box mounted on the iron gate, Ethan's last words still ringing in her ears.
"Yeah. I know."
And then nothing.
She shouldn't have expected anything else.
With a heavy exhale, she stepped back, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket. It was colder than she thought tonight, the winter air biting at her skin, sharp and unforgiving. It was the kind of cold that settled deep in your bones, the kind that made everything feel hollow.
Or maybe that was just Ethan.
She had known coming here was a mistake. It had taken her thirty minutes just to work up the nerve to press that button, and now? Now she felt stupid.
Two years ago, she would have walked right through those gates, through the massive oak doors, straight into the Hayes' living room where Mrs. Hayes would have greeted her with a warm hug, and Ava would have launched herself at Riley's waist.
Two years ago, she wouldn't have needed an invitation.
Now, she wasn't even worth a second sentence.
Her fingers tightened around the fabric in her pockets.
Maybe it was time to stop trying.
But as she turned to leave, the front doors of the house swung open.
Riley froze.
Warm light spilled from the entrance, stretching across the front steps, casting shadows over the perfectly maintained lawn. And then, from inside the doorway, a figure stepped forward—**not Ethan.**
Caroline Hayes.
Even from this distance, she looked effortlessly composed, dressed in a soft grey sweater and tailored slacks, her blonde hair swept back in a simple, elegant twist. She wasn't wearing shoes—just thick socks that peeked out from beneath the hem of her pants, a small reminder that she wasn't just **Ethan Hayes' mother**, or the widow of a powerful businessman—she was a person, too.
And right now, **that person was looking directly at Riley.**
For a second, Riley thought about running. Just turning on her heel and pretending she'd never been here in the first place.
But before she could even take a step, Mrs. Hayes called out.
"Riley?"
Riley swallowed hard. "Hi, Mrs. Hayes."
The older woman hesitated for only a moment before crossing the driveway to the gate, her expression unreadable.
"You're out late," she said, voice warm but careful.
Riley let out a small, breathy laugh. "Yeah. I guess I just—" She shook her head, shifting on her feet. "I wanted to see Ethan."
Caroline's lips pressed together, and for a moment, there was something in her eyes—something soft, something understanding.
Then, she exhaled. "Come inside, sweetheart."
Riley blinked. "What?"
"Come inside," Caroline repeated, already pressing a button on the security panel. The iron gates clicked open. "It's cold out here."
Riley hesitated. "Ethan—he's not going to want—"
"Let me handle Ethan."
The finality in her tone left no room for argument.
Riley stepped through the gate before she could talk herself out of it.
---
Inside the Hayes Estate
The warmth hit her immediately.
The moment she stepped inside, the heat of the house wrapped around her, a stark contrast to the bitter cold outside. The grand chandelier overhead bathed the foyer in soft golden light, casting intricate shadows against the high, arching ceilings.
Nothing had changed.
The marble floors still gleamed. The curved staircase still stretched toward the second floor like something out of a fairytale. The scent of cinnamon lingered in the air—**Mrs. Hayes must have been baking.**
For a split second, Riley let herself pretend. Pretend that this was just another night, that she was just here to see Ethan, that nothing had shattered between them.
A small, sleepy voice cut through the illusion.
"Riley?"
Riley turned just as Ava came down the hall, rubbing at her eyes.
She had grown. Not much—Ava was still tiny, still delicate-looking with her wild curls and big brown eyes. But there was something different about her now. Something heavier.
Riley's throat tightened. **Ava had been ten when Ethan's dad died.** And Riley hadn't been there for her either.
Before she could say anything, Ava launched herself forward, throwing her arms around Riley's waist.
Riley barely had time to catch her.
"You're here," Ava mumbled against her shoulder.
Riley's hands trembled as she held the little girl close, closing her eyes for half a second.
"Yeah," she whispered. "I'm here."
A sharp voice broke the moment apart.
"What the hell is this?"
Riley's heart stopped.
Slowly, she looked up—and there he was.
Ethan.
Standing at the top of the staircase.
His jaw was clenched, his arms crossed over his chest. His dark hair was slightly messy, like he had been running his hands through it, and his sweater hung loosely over his frame. Thinner than she remembered.
But his eyes.
His eyes were the worst part.
They used to be warm.
Now, they looked like nothing at all.
Riley swallowed. "Ethan—"
"No." His voice was sharp, cutting through the warmth of the house like ice. "No. You don't get to be here."
Ava flinched. "Ethan—"
"Go to bed, Ava."
"But—"
"Now."
Ava hesitated, her fingers tightening against Riley's sleeve. Then, with one last, reluctant glance, she let go and disappeared down the hall.
Riley watched her go, heart pounding. Then, slowly, she turned back to Ethan.
He was still standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at her with nothing but cold, empty detachment.
Like she was a stranger.
She took a breath. "I just—"
"Why are you here, Riley?"
The exhaustion in his voice made her chest ache.
"I—" She hesitated. "I wanted to talk."
Ethan let out a quiet laugh. It wasn't a happy sound.
"You wanted to talk?" He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "After two years, now you want to talk?"
"Ethan, please—"
"No."
The finality of it made something crack inside her.
He turned away like he was going to leave.
Panic flared.
Say something. Say something before he disappears for good.
"I should have been there."
Ethan froze.
Riley swallowed hard. "When your dad—when he died. I should have been there. I should have come to the funeral. I should have called. I should have done something, anything, but I—I didn't, and I hate myself for it, and I just—" She exhaled, voice shaking. "I just wanted you to know that."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Ethan's hands curled into fists.
Then, he looked over his shoulder, meeting her gaze.
And for the first time since she walked into this house, she saw something in his expression.
Not anger.
Not resentment.
Something worse.
Indifference.
"It doesn't matter," he said.
And then, without another word, he disappeared down the hall.
Leaving Riley standing there, feeling more like a stranger than ever.