Chapter 50
Griffin
Hungover and loitering in the hallway outside of Madison’s apartment, I probably look like the world’s biggest loser.
Several passersby have given me odd looks, probably because they’ve seen me come and go from this apartment a thousand times.
It makes no sense that I’m standing awkwardly on the doorstep, but here I am.
I’ve been going back and forth for the better half of five minutes about what to do.
Do I knock? I have a key–do I let myself in? Do I call first?
I knock three times, wincing at the sharp sound as it echoes through the empty hallway. I hear muffled footsteps and the swing of the metal peephole cover, but the door doesn’t open.
“Madison, can I please come in?” I ask through the door. After a few moments of silence pass, I really start to think she might leave me out here.
Would serve you right, jackass.
Just as I turn to leave, I hear a heavy sigh and the turn of the lock. When the door swings open, I’m surprised to see that Madison doesn’t look angry–she just looks tired.
“You have a key Griffin, there was no reason to make me get up,” she grits out through her teeth, sweeping her arm dramatically in a sarcastic gesture to usher me inside.
Okay, maybe a little angry.
“Come sit down,” she says with a defeated sigh, pointing at one of the barstools at her kitchen island. “Let me get you some coffee, you reek of tequila.”
“Sorry,” I mumble.
She waves me off, pulling two mugs from the cabinet and filling them both to the brim. The one she sets in front of me has a picture of the two of us on it, and my chin falls to my chest, shoulders curling inwards in shame.
“Madison, I–”
“No, Griffin. I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen.”
I nod sheepishly, feeling distinctly like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
But when I look up at her, it doesn’t look like she’s winding up for an explosion.
She looks more like she does when she’s preparing for an important business deal at work. Sharp, focused, and kind of terrifying.
“We’ve been together for a year,” she says, matter-of-factly. “And it’s been good. Great, even.”
“Um, yeah, it has. Been great, that is. You’re great,” I stammer, fumbling over my words. “Listen–”
“Shh, I’m still talking,” she says, holding up a finger. “But let’s be honest with ourselves. It’s run its course. This was never going to last forever, and as much as I wish it was ending differently, here we are.”
“Ending?”
“Yes, Griffin, ending.”
I was not expecting this.
“I know you walked in here thinking you were going to deliver the death blow,” she continues. “But I think it’s only fair that I get to have this on my terms. I’m not an idiot.” She gives me a pointed look that tells me she might know me better than I thought.
“The second I heard that Ellie was back in town, I knew this was coming. Anyone with half a brain knows that you’re going to carry a torch for her until the end of time.”
Fuck. She’s reading me like a book.
“I’m not mad,” she says, patting my arm reassuringly. “I was shocked when you asked me out to begin with. But I knew she hadn’t come home in a while, and I figured if you were going to make a real effort to move on, I’d let you do it with me.”
My jaw drops. “So you thought this would happen from the beginning? You didn’t ever think I actually liked you?”
“Oh, stop it, of course you liked me, Griffin. I’m incredibly likable. We made an excellent pairing. I just knew I wasn’t going to be some great, big love for you.”
“And you were okay with that?”
“When have you ever known me to do something I wasn’t okay with?”
I can’t help the way the corners of my mouth quirk upward. Madison is likable, she always has been. A big part of what drew me to her was her independence and self-assuredness. I should have known she’d be three steps ahead of me, even in this.
“The longer it lasted, the more I convinced myself that you really had moved on,” she continues. “It was nice having companionship. And to be frank, it was real damn nice to get laid on a regular basis. But I think part of me always knew we were on borrowed time.”
“Why did you let me waste your time like that, Madison?” My voice comes out hoarse, a combination of the hangover and the guilt.
“You didn’t waste my time, honey,” she says softly, squeezing my hand.
There’s no anger or betrayal in her eyes, even though she has every right to feel them, and a thousand other things.
I think she genuinely means it. “Just because it didn’t last doesn’t mean we didn’t gain anything from it.
At the very least, you know for sure that no one is ever going to fill the Ellie-shaped hole in your heart. ”
“I really didn’t mean to do this,” I murmur. “I wanted this to work.”
“I know you did,” she hums, coming around the island to stand behind me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. It doesn’t feel like she’s trying to hold on to me–if anything, it feels like she’s holding me together. “And I thought I could help fix that broken heart of yours. We were both wrong.”
“How are you being so chill about this?”
“Don’t worry, I spent last night raging,” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “Got it out of my system before you came over.”
“You deserve so much better than this, Mads. I’m so sorry.”
“You’re a good man, Griffin Hart. I don’t need better, I just need different. And we both know what you need.”
I turn to look up at her, and I can tell she means every word she’s saying. I was so wrapped up in my own dread about breaking up with her that it didn’t occur to me that she might want to end things with me.
“I don’t know if I’m going to get it,” I whisper. Even if we’re both single now, I don’t know if Eleanor and I can piece ourselves back together.
“I think you will,” she says simply. “I know soulmates when I see them. And anyone who has been around y’all for two seconds could figure out the two of you are the textbook definition of soulmates. You’ll get it. Buck up.”
“I really hope you get what you want,” I say, pulling her into a hug. “I’m sorry it ended like this.”
“I’m not,” She pats me on the cheek before adding, “I get to tell everyone that I broke up with you. That makes me feel much better.”
Chuckling, I give her one more squeeze before heading for the door. “Feel free to talk as much shit about me as you want. You’ve earned it.”
“Don’t you fret, honey,” she says, a warm smile on her face. “I’m already rehearsing my vitriol in my head. Go get your girl.”
I shake my head in amusement, tossing my key into the bowl on the entryway table and stepping out of Madison’s apartment for the last time, her words echoing in my head.
Just because it didn’t last doesn’t mean we didn’t gain anything from it.
I didn’t realize just how true that was until she said it out loud. I gained so much in my time with her–probably more than I know.
No one is ever going to fill the Ellie-shaped hole in your heart.
She’s right. Eleanor has had my heart from the very beginning, and no matter how much she infuriates me, no matter how many times she runs away, I’m never going to stop chasing her. I’ll never stop waiting for her to be ready to come home.
You didn’t waste my time, honey.
For years, I’ve been bitter. Carrying around misery, stubbornly holding on to a grudge in the hopes that anger might drown out the constant ache I have for Eleanor.
Told myself over and over that she wasted my time and tried to hate her for it.
But Madison and Jack were both right. Nothing about my time with Eleanor was wasted.
In my truck, I lean my head against my folded arms, the steering wheel holding my weight up. I can’t fight it anymore. I still love her as easy as breathing, and I need her like the air in my lungs. But even if we never work it out, even if she never loves me back again, it’ll have been worth it.
But God, what I wouldn’t give for a life where we work out.