Chapter Thirty-Six #2
But the woman I’d slowly grown into over the past two weeks laid a steady hand on her shoulder and said No, we’re done accepting small doses of attention and pretending it’s okay.
Drew stopped mid-sentence, his brow creasing. “What? Is everything okay?”
“You’re planning to work twenty-hour days through spring.” My words came out quiet, factual. No anger. Just truth lined up like dominos.
He opened his mouth to protest.
I kept going, needing to say it all before I lost my nerve. “And then summer is rollouts, and fall is travel, and winter is forecasting. And I will love you through all of it and see you in the tiny spaces of free time your schedule allows.”
Mornings in the car. Maybe dinner if nothing runs late.
He flinched like I struck him. “I can make it work. We’ll be in the same town. We work together. We’ll see each other every day.”
“That’s not seeing each other.” My throat tightened, tears threatening. “That’s passing each other in the hallway and sharing calendars. Maybe a cup of coffee in the morning if we’re lucky. It’s not enough.”
I finally know it’s not enough.
“I don’t understand. I thought you supported my work with the expansion and the Heritage Line?”
I cupped his cheek, needing him to see the truth in my eyes. “I do. I love that you’re so passionate about Kingsley Jewelry. I love watching you light up when you talk about it.”
“So what’s the problem?”
The old Ellie would’ve jumped at what Drew was offering.
The old Ellie would’ve compromised herself to fit.
The old Ellie would have said yes. The new one stood still, her heart breaking, and listened to the certainty humming inside her ribs.
“The problem is me. The problem is I finally learned I deserved more. And you helped me realize that.” I paused, tears slipped free, running hot and fast down my cheeks.
“I love you,” I said. “I love you so much I almost said yes to less.”
Before I’d arrived in Ruby River, Drew had worked twenty-hour days. I knew this—had known from the start. But each moment he carved out for me while I was here, each time he stepped away from work to be present, had me believing he finally realized a work-life balance mattered.
His hand rubbed at the back of his neck as panicked edged his eyes. “Don’t say it like a goodbye.”
“It’s not a forever goodbye,” I said, choosing each word with the utmost care. My heart was shattering, but I kept my voice steady.” It’s more of a ‘not like this.’ I promised myself I wouldn’t be the understudy in my own life anymore. I can’t go back on that, not even for you.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “I would never dim your light. You must know that after all the time we’ve been together.”
“You wouldn’t mean to.” I managed a small, broken laugh.
“But you’d slowly be pulled away as everything took longer than you expected, or a problem came up that only you could solve, or maybe you were just lost in your work that day.
And I’d spend my night convincing myself it was okay to be grateful for the leftovers of a man who swears he loves me. ”
“But—”
“Who I know loves me,” I amended quickly. It was true. I knew without any doubt his feelings were honest and real. That was what made this so much harder.
“Ellie—”
“I need to be first, Drew,” The words came out saturated in sadness, because choosing myself meant saying no to him.
“With the person I spend my life with, I need to be first. And maybe it’s too soon to think that far ahead, but I can’t help it.
That’s how I’m built. I want the whole thing. The partnership. The priority.”
“I would—”
“And you need your work right now. I won’t make you the villain for that.” I meant it. I understood the drive to do what you loved, to build something meaningful. “But I won’t make myself the consolation prize, either.”
He looked stunned, then angry—but not at me.
I could see it in his eyes, the way the fury turned inward.
The part of me conditioned to taking care of others wanted to reach for him, soothe away the pain I was causing.
But that brand new part of me—the one who’d learned the hard way to stop sacrificing herself—pulled my hand back in time.
I had to be strong for both of us. Even if it destroyed me.
“I need time to think about this, Drew. I want you to be happy. I want us to be happy … together, but I just don’t know how we’ll make this work with you basically doing two jobs and hardly ever around.” My voice came out steadier than I felt.
“Please don’t do this,” he pleaded softly. His despair reached for me, trying to get me to stay.
“I have to.” I took one step back. Then another.
“Give us a chance,” he pleaded.
“I need to choose me,” I whispered, tears clogging my throat, a scream building beneath the surface. “I need to go for a walk. To think.”
Why was life this unfair? Why would I get to experience unfettered love for the first time with someone I could see forever with and not be able to keep it?
I turned and walked. My legs shook, my vision swam with tears streaming down my cheeks, but I kept moving.
I had to. Because if I stopped, I’d collapse.
If I turned around, I’d run back to him and accept whatever he could give.
Because he was a good, kind, and decent man that didn’t know how to prioritize love.
And I needed to give myself time alone to figure out if I could truly accept what he had to give, because not having him at all didn’t feel right, either. My biggest fear was knowing I deserved more, but allowing myself to accept less would destroy me eventually.
Each breath hurt, like shards of glass were embedded in the very air I pulled into my lungs.
One foot in front of the other.
I needed distance from the pain, from the very real desire to stay regardless of every valid point I’d made.
I needed to make the right choice, and being so close to Drew at this moment was muddying my thoughts.
Because I knew—deep in my soul—that if I said yes now, I could get stuck in an endless loop. Once I accepted less, it would become harder to leave later. That resentment would build, the loneliness would compound and we’d both end up miserable.
Or we might be able to figure it out and be happy together. Bad Eleanor sounded oddly hopeful and strangely optimistic. I wasn’t sure what to make of this new side of her.
Or was it better to cut ties now? Better to walk away while I still had the strength?
Even if it felt like dying.
The tears came harder now, ugly sobs that made it difficult to see the sidewalk in front of me. I didn’t stop though. I just kept going.
I wanted to choose myself.
But that decision didn’t feel victorious.
It felt like the loneliest triumph in the world.
And if that was the case, was I making a bigger mistake not accepting Drew’s offer? Of not giving our love a chance, or allowing us the chance to work through our first hurdle as a couple?