THE SPACE BETWEEN US

Chapter Nine: The Space Between Them

Saturday morning arrived with a cold breeze and a sky that looked as though it might rain at any moment.

Ava had planned to spend the day reviewing contractor estimates at her studio. Instead, she found herself standing outside the hotel at ten o’clock, wondering why Ethan had asked her to inspect the ballroom again.

She checked her phone.

Ava: I’m here. Are you inside?

His reply arrived quickly.

Ethan: Ballroom. Come up.

Ava walked through the lobby and climbed the staircase. She found Ethan standing near the tall windows, holding two takeaway cups.

“You brought coffee,” she said.

“I was told that offering you coffee increases the chance that you won’t insult me before noon.”

“Who told you that?”

“An extremely reliable source.”

“Ryan?”

Ethan handed her a cup.

“Unfortunately.”

Ava accepted it, smiling.

They spent the next twenty minutes reviewing the restoration specialist’s report. The original windows could be repaired, the ceiling decorations could be preserved, and the chandelier could be restored after a safety inspection.

Ava was pleased with the findings.

“This is exactly what I hoped for,” she said. “The room will feel like itself again.”

Ethan looked around the ballroom.

“I think my mother would have been happy.”

Ava lowered her notebook.

“You talk about her more now.”

“Do I?”

“A little. You mentioned her at my family’s dinner, and then you told me about her when we first inspected the room.”

He looked uncomfortable for a moment.

“Is that a problem?”

“No. I just think it matters to you.”

Ethan rested his coffee on a windowsill.

“She loved places like this. Not because they were expensive, but because they brought people together. She used to say that the best rooms were the ones where people forgot to check the time because they were enjoying themselves.”

Ava smiled.

“That sounds like something I would say.”

“I noticed.”

“Perhaps your mother and I would have gotten along.”

“I think you would have.”

His answer was quiet, and something about it made Ava’s chest tighten.

She imagined Elizabeth Carter walking through the restored ballroom, pointing out the details she loved, laughing at Ethan’s stubbornness, and telling him that the woman arguing with him about chairs was probably right.

“What was she like?” Ava asked.

Ethan thought for a moment.

“She was warm. She remembered everyone’s birthday, even people she had met only once. She could tell when I was upset before I said anything. And she never allowed my father’s expectations to become the only measure of my worth.”

Ava listened without interrupting.

“When she died,” Ethan continued, “I think I became obsessed with proving that I could handle everything. I thought if I worked hard enough, if I became successful enough, I wouldn’t have to feel lost.”

“Did it work?”

He gave a small, humorless smile.

“Not particularly.”

Ava looked down at her coffee.

“I understand wanting to prove yourself,” she said. “When I started my studio, people kept asking whether I was sure I could manage it. They thought I was too young. Some people thought I should wait until I had more money or someone powerful supporting me.”

“What did you do?”

“I opened the studio anyway.”

Ethan smiled.

“That sounds like you.”

“I made mistakes. I worried about paying rent. There were nights when I wondered if I had made the wrong decision. But I wanted to build something that belonged to me.”

She looked at him.

“I think the hardest part is realizing that proving yourself to everyone can take so much time that you forget to ask whether you’re happy.”

Ethan was silent.

Her words touched something he had been trying not to examine.

“What if you disappoint the people who matter to you?” he asked.

“Then you have to decide whether being honest with yourself is worth the risk.”

“And if they never forgive you?”

Ava studied his expression.

“I don’t think you can build your whole life around the possibility that someone might be disappointed in you.”

He looked away.

For several seconds, neither spoke. The ballroom seemed quieter than before, the distant sounds of the city barely audible through the windows.

Then Ethan held out his hand.

“Come here.”

Ava raised an eyebrow.

“That sounds suspicious.”

“I want to show you something.”

She placed her hand in his, and he led her toward the center of the room.

He pointed to a small section of the floor where the old wooden boards had been exposed beneath a layer of damaged covering.

“My mother used to say that this was her favorite part of the ballroom. She liked the way the wood reflected the afternoon light.”

Ava looked down at their hands.

Neither had let go.

She became suddenly aware of how close he was standing, of the warmth of his fingers around hers, and of the fact that she had stopped thinking about the restoration report.

Ethan seemed to notice it too.

His gaze moved from their joined hands to her face.

“Ava,” he said softly.

She looked up.

For one brief moment, she thought he might say something that would change everything between them.

Instead, a loud voice echoed from the doorway.

“AM I INTERRUPTING SOMETHING?”

They sprang apart.

Ryan Mitchell stood at the entrance, wearing a broad grin and holding a paper bag.

Ava closed her eyes.

“Ryan.”

“What? I brought lunch.”

“You could have called.”

“I did call Ethan. He said he was at the hotel. He did not mention that the ballroom had become a romantic destination.”

Ethan looked ready to throw him out of the building.

“Why are you here?”

“To feed you. Apparently, neither of you knows how to eat when you’re busy staring at each other.”

“We were discussing the floor,” Ava said.

Ryan looked down at the wooden boards.

“Very moving. I can see the romance.”

Ava covered her face with one hand.

Ethan took the paper bag from Ryan and pointed toward the door.

“Leave.”

“Gladly. But I’m telling Charlotte.”

“Ryan!”

Ryan laughed as he disappeared into the corridor.

Ava and Ethan stood in embarrassed silence.

Then Ava started laughing.

Ethan looked at her, trying to remain serious, but within seconds he was laughing too.

“I’m going to have to find a way to get rid of him,” Ethan said.

“You should try feeding him somewhere else.”

“That might encourage him.”

They sat on an old bench near the wall and shared the lunch Ryan had brought. Their conversation returned to the project, but something had changed.

Ava no longer saw Ethan only as the difficult man who challenged her decisions.

Ethan no longer saw Ava only as the designer who refused to be intimidated by him.

They had begun to see each other more clearly.

When Ava finally left, Ethan walked her to the entrance.

“Thank you for talking with me today,” he said.

“Thank you for trusting me enough to share those memories.”

He nodded.

She turned to go, then paused.

“And Ethan?”

“Yes?”

“I think your mother would have been proud of what you’re trying to do with this place.”

He looked at her for a long moment.

“Thank you, Ava.”

She walked toward the street, her heart carrying a feeling she wasn’t ready to name.

Behind her, Ethan watched until she disappeared into the crowd.

For the first time, he wondered whether the space between them was not something he wanted to protect.

Perhaps it was something he wanted to cross.