“The actor who plays Jake Jacobson. Matty—Matthew Spencer. I know him. I used to.”

“Like know him, or know him?”

“Second one.”

“Do you miss him?”

“If someone changes so much that they’re barely the same person, who are you even missing?”

“I miss him, you know,” Ethan says. I think he’s telling me about Rodney, but then he says, “I’m sure no one wants to hear it. But it’s not like I didn’t love Ivan. It’s not like every bit of him and me was a fight. It didn’t start out that way.”

He looks at me. The bruises and the sadness in his eyes are almost too much to bear. I grab his hand under the blankets and squeeze it tight.

“I still miss him and it hurts and I wish he would come back and be okay and love me and not hurt me again,” Ethan says, all in one breath, like it’s a relief to say the words. “There were good parts. There were tiny little parts of a good person and I miss having hope that those parts would take over.”

He starts to cry. He tucks his head into my shoulder and I rub his back.

When he falls asleep, I go into the bathroom and hang a towel over the mirror so he doesn’t have look at his bruises until they’re better.

— Chapter 48 —

Robert’s Friday night band at the bar cancels. It’s not my scene. It’s not Ethan’s either, so he stays home to paint. It’s the first time we’ve left him alone since Ivan showed up. His bruises have faded from purple to green. They look like shadows. He promises he’s fine. Says the alone time will be good for him. I check the locks on the doors before we leave.

The crowd was expecting a Blue Öyster Cult cover band. I sprayed my hair so there are curls in every direction and lined my eyes with black shadow. There’s big hair and acid-washed jeans everywhere. I think about playing Don’t Fear the Reaper, but it might be twisting the knife, and the guitar part is too complicated for me anyway. I stick to my angrier stuff, hit my strings as hard as I can. I keep scraping my knuckle. Sometimes the crowd listens; mostly they drink. After I’ve played a few songs, half the bar clears out. The ones who stay seem to like me. At the very least, they buy a lot of beer.