Chapter Two

"Ethan, dear, I know that now isn't the best time to be talking to you about this, but I think you should know what's been going on here at home since you've been away."

Ethan Crane couldn't stand the tone of voice his mother was using. Very hushed, very secretive. He knew what she was about to share with him was going to be bad, something that he didn't want to hear.

From the second he had seen his mother at the airport in Portland, he knew something wasn't right. Perhaps it was the sadness that filled her eyes. The light sprinkling of gray in her shining golden hair. The tiny, telltale wrinkles that hadn't been there the last time he had seen his mother, almost a year ago at his sister's graduation from boarding school.

She had skirted the issue for awhile as they made their way out of the airport, keeping in mind the Crane image that they had to uphold in public. Once they were safely tucked inside the limousine, though, Ivy felt the need to warn her son of the troubles brewing at the Crane Estate.

"Well, Mother, why don't you just go ahead and blurt it out. I mean, what could be worse than the woman that I'm in love with telling me that she feels we need to separate for a while, because apparently, I'm a no good work-a-holic bastard who doesn't love her anymore and takes advantage of her love for me an-

"Ethan, your father and I are getting a divorce."

That shut Ethan up quickly.

He felt his jaw go slack as his mother's words echoed through his mind.

"Ethan, your father and I are getting a divorce."

"Father and I are getting a divorce."

"Getting a divorce."

"Divorce…"

Ethan violently shook his head, trying to get a grasp on himself.

"Mother, I must have misunderstood you. You didn't just say that you and Father are divorcing…did you?"

The look on his mother's answered his question.

And that was when Ethan Crane realized that the life that he had known since, well, forever was changing.

And not for the better.

Ethan, for the life of himself, could not believe this was happening. The conversation he had shared with his mother on the way back from the airport continued to float in his head all day, so the second that they had arrived at the mansion, he had darted off for his old car, still in mint condition, a 1997 Ford Mustang. His baby.

He was so relieved to find that her engine still purred as gently that day as it did the day he had brought her home from the dealership. This was exactly what he needed: to drive around his hometown, and let the warm ocean air clear his head. That was the thing he had missed the most while he was in Paris. The way the New England weather had such a grip on his entire being.

Ethan cruised around Harmony for a bit, reliving old memories, and checking out what was new. But his mother's words…they wouldn't leave his mind. And that disturbed him beyond belief.

Ethan remembered a little coffee shop that was down Main Street, and decided that was what he needed. A warm cup of coffee and the new John Grisham novel would do wonders for his mood. He was sure of that.

"Your father and I are getting a divorce."

This was horrible. Were the vows of the Catholic Church no longer sacred? Was this going to be the new trend, trial separations and divorces among the upper crust of New England society?

All Ethan knew was that he missed his wife. He knew he wasn't the best husband, but he hadn't even realized how bad things were becoming until that day.

The day that he arrived home from work a little after midnight to find Gwen sitting at their dining room table, arms folded tightly across her chest, tears streaming down her delicate face. A pile of wrapped presents sat in the middle of the table, and two place settings were set with now limp salad and warm wine. The candles that had been lit were nearly stubs now, after many hours of being lit, waiting to cast a warm glow over a couple deeply in love.

"Um, hey, baby," Ethan said softly as he looked around the dining room. He bent down to give his wife a kiss, but she jerked away, her usually calm cerulean eyes shooting venomous daggers into him.

"Fuck you."

It was almost a whisper, but Ethan heard her loud and clear. Ethan took a step back in shock, not believing what his wife was saying to him.

"I said, FUCK YOU, ETHAN CRANE!" she screamed, jumping out of her chair. In her haste, the chair tumbled over, crashing against the cool tile floored.

"I heard you, Gwen. But I-"

"Oh, shut up. Just shut up. Do you have any idea what today is? ANY? At all?"

And with a sinking feeling, Ethan realized that he did know what that day was.

It was their three-year anniversary of being man and wife.

And Ethan had completely forgotten about it.

Ethan closed his eyes for a moment as he sped down the steep hill off Main Street, wishing that he could go back to that day, and skip work and spend the day making love to his wife and showering her with presents and reminding her that she was Ethan's world, his everything.

But you can't turn back the hands of time, Ethan thought miserably as he opened his eyes back up.

And realized he was speeding right towards a little white Mazda that was stopped in the middle of the street.

Ethan slammed on his brakes, but he knew that it was useless. He was going to hit the car, so he braced himself for the worst.

****~~~~****~~~~****~~~~****~~~~****~~~~****~~~~

"Miss…are you okay?"

The tiny girl that stood before Ethan was frozen in place, a dazed look on her beautiful face. Ethan could see a large goose egg already appearing on her forehead, and Ethan was somewhat worried that she might have a concussion.

She was the kind of girl that Ethan and his boarding school buddies would drool over back in the day. Lush black hair. Tanned, creamy skin. But it was her eyes…though they were off in some far away place at that moment, Ethan could see the light that radiated from them.

If it weren't for those eyes, Ethan would have brushed her beauty off as sexy. Glamorous. But the eyes…they made her seem so real. So…soo...

Perfect.

Ethan shook his head, clearing his mind of where his thoughts were leading him.

Although it was a welcome relief to have a bit of distraction from the thoughts that had been clouding his mind all day.

"Um, miss? Are you doing okay?"

Ethan took a step closer to her, suddenly overwhelmed by the soft scent of warm vanilla. The scent made him slightly dizzy, slightly nauseous…and slightly guilty, because he was standing here practically drooling over a child.

Her eyes slowly came back into focus, and she smiled up at him.

"Um…hi. My heads a bit sore, but other than that…how are you?"

"Oh, um, well, I'm fine. Not a scratch on me." He smiled lightly at her, feeling like a moron.

And he was fine.

Really, he was. Until he saw the huge dent that was now on the bumper of his prized Mustang.

And the toll of the day was finally starting to wash over him.

"Well, Miss…"

"Theresa. Theresa Lo-"

"Well, Miss Theresa, I'm glad to hear that you are okay. Because now, I have to ask you- WHAT IN GOD'S NAME WERE YOU DOING STOPPED IN THE MIDDLE OF MAINSTREET? "

Theresa's mouth dropped open a bit, and she took a step back, her eyes starting to mist up.

And Ethan instantly regretted yelling at her. Regretted taking out his troubles on this…kid, especially since he knew he was as much to blame…well, ALMOST as much to blame in this as she was.

But just as Ethan was about to apologize, Theresa's gaze iced over, and she stepped back towards him, hands on her tiny hips.

"Well, Mister, I have a question for you. WHAT IN GOD'S NAME WERE YOU DOING DRIVING DOWN MAINSTREET AT A SPEED WHERE YOU COULDN'T BRAKE IN TIME TO AVOID ME? God, I hate people like you. Stuck up rich-"

"Hey, now-"

"JERKS, who think that they can do no wrong. Ugh, why don't you just give me your insurance info, and you can-"

Ethan had just about had it. So much for not taking his troubles out on the kid.

"My insurance info? I don't think so, Theresa. This was obviously your fault, and I think that you are the one who is going to have to pay for this."

"You know what? Why don't we let our insurance companies battle this out, because I am late for work, and I can see that we are going nowhere with this little conversation."

Theresa spun on her heel and marched to her car. She grabbed her wallet, and walked back over to Ethan, digging out her driver's license and insurance card.

He snatched the items from her out stretched hand and walked back to his car and opened the dashboard. He glanced over her license. Name: Lopez- Fitzgerald, Theresa. Birthday: July 15, 1978… The kid was only two years younger than he? What a laugh!

He found his license and insurance card, and walked it over to Theresa.

"Thank you oh so much, Mr.…"

Her voice trailed off as she looked over his license. She lifted her eyes off of it, up at Ethan, and back down. Realization washed over her features, and it was all Ethan could do to not laugh.

The look on her face was priceless.