Chapter 51
Ellie
Ineed to get my nails done before this weekend.
Staring down at the nails I’ve ripped to the point of bleeding, I absentmindedly pull my phone out to schedule a manicure appointment for tomorrow morning.
My nervous system is thanking me for the brief reprieve–for even thirty seconds not spent hyperfocused on the front door of the coffee shop.
Every time the bell rings, I jolt like I’ve been hit with a taser.
Not that I actually know what being tased feels like, but I’d imagine it’s something close to this.
He pulls out the chair across the table from me, sliding in smoothly and crossing his ankle over the opposite knee. “Howdy, Eleanor.”
“Hi, Griffin,” I mumble, my focus back on shredding the nail on my right thumb. “Thanks for meeting me.”
“Of course. Wouldn’t miss a chance to see you, darlin’.”
I look up at him, my eyes narrowing suspiciously. If there’s any sarcasm or contempt there, I can’t find it. His tone is sincere, and his eyes are twinkling like he’s trying to suppress a smile. A far cry from the face I shouted at a few nights ago.
“I didn’t expect you to respond, let alone show up. I’m kind of surprised, actually.”
The spot between his eyes creases as he furrows his brows. “Why is that?”
“I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, Griffin,” I joke, “But the last time I saw you, we were screaming at each other in a parking lot.”
“Oh, that was you?” His eyes light up fully, the smile he was fighting breaking through. “I thought it was someone else. That makes more sense now.”
“Yeah, I wish I could say it wasn’t me, but it sure was,” I say, smiling sheepishly. “Hell hath no fury like Tequila Ellie.” I lean forward, resting my forearms on the table and locking my eyes on his. “And I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for everything.”
“We really were on our worst behavior, huh?”
“Diabolical behavior, really.” A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest, warming me from the inside out.
“I didn’t mean any of it, Griffin,” I say in a low voice.
“I know you weren’t throwing anything in my face.
And I know you weren’t using me.” His hand twitches like it might reach for mine, but stays where it’s rested on the oak finished table.
“And I’m happy for you, truly. You deserve to be happy. ”
“Don’t beat yourself up, darlin’. You and I are okay. You and I will always be okay.”
“Do you think,” I start, anxiously chewing on my bottom lip. “Do you think we could be friends? I know things will never be like they used to, but I hate not having you in my life.”
“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, Eleanor Turner,” he says, the sweet words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth because that’s not true. I want him to be mine. But that’s not fair of me. He has a completely separate life now, and a woman who doesn’t change her mind or run away.
“Friends, then,” I say with a smile. “Unless Madison isn’t okay with that, I totally get not wanting your partner to be buddy-buddy with his ex.”
“Madison and I broke up this morning,” he responds simply, shrugging his shoulders. He said it the same way you might say you went to the dentist or gave the dog a bath–like it’s no big deal. Some mundane, minor detail as opposed to the end of a long-term relationship.
“Wait, huh?” My jaw falls open, and I stare at him dumbly, waiting for additional information. When none comes, I ask, “Is it because of last night? I can talk to her, I’ll clear the air. This is all my fault, I’m such a psychotic bitch when I get drunk.”
“Hey, don’t talk about my girl like that.”
His girl.
I blink rapidly, at a complete loss for words after his slip of the tongue. It’s something he used to say all the time when I was hard on myself. Old habits die hard, I guess.
“I’m serious, Griffin,” I plead. “Let me call her and explain. You didn’t need to break up because I threw a tantrum.”
“We didn’t break up because of that, darlin’.” This time, his hand does find mine, gripping it reassuringly.
“Really?” I frown in confusion. “ It wasn’t because of me?”
“Oh, it was definitely because of you.” His hand leaves mine, and he tilts his chair back, locking his hands behind his head with a smile the size of Texas blooming across his face.
“But not because of the bar. We just came to the conclusion that no one is ever going to be you, and I need to stop pretending like that’s ever going to change.
” He purses his lips pensively. “Well, she figured it out way before I did. But she helped me get there.”
My jaw drops. What does that mean? The difference between his words and his demeanor is short-circuiting my brain. “So you definitely broke up because of me,” I repeat back slowly. “Why are you acting like that’s a good thing?”
“Because, darlin’,” his voice shaky from holding back laughter. “It’s such a damn relief to not have to pretend like you aren’t the only girl I’m ever going to love.”
Going to love. Not loved, past-tense. Going to, future, future-tense.
“I don’t really know what to say to that, Griffin.” I’m beyond bewildered.
“Ahhh, I love keeping you on your toes,” he sighs, shaking his head. I scowl at him, and he laughs loudly. “You’re so damn cute when you’re annoyed with me.”
“Can you quit making fun of me? I had things I wanted to say, Griffin.”
He sobers up, setting all four chair legs back on the floor. “I’m not making fun of you, Eleanor. I mean it. But I’m sorry, please continue.”
“Thank you,” I huff. “As I was saying, I really am sorry for what I said. For everything I’ve said, for every time I strung you along, for every selfish decision that hurt you.” He nods silently, the look in his eyes encouraging me to continue.
“I was a mess. Not just with you, but with my whole life.” He opens his mouth to argue, but I do it for him. “Well, not a mess. I was doing the best I could with what I had. I have better words for the way I feel sometimes now.”
Something like pride gleams in his eyes, and I avert my gaze before the emotion wells up.
“But it doesn’t change that those feelings made my actions hurtful, especially with you.
And I’ve never truly apologized for that.
I wasn’t a mess, but I sure was good at making them.
You didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorrier than you could ever know. ”
“I won’t minimize your apology by saying you didn’t need to do that, but I will accept it. I forgive you, Eleanor. And no mess you’ve ever made has ever made me love you any less.”
I can’t stop the well of emotion in my waterline now. Even now, knowing what I know and hearing the words from his mouth, I’m still tempted to argue and tell him in great detail exactly why he should hate me. But I am so tired of beating myself up.
Maybe Kelsi really is right. Maybe it would be so much easier to let people prove me wrong–to just get out of my own way and let them love me.
“Thank you,” I whisper, fighting tooth and nail to keep the tears from spilling over. “You’ve always been so much kinder to me than I am to myself. I can’t thank you enough for that.”
“If you’re not gonna do it for yourself, someone has to,” he murmurs, taking my hand in his again and bringing it to his mouth to swipe a gentle kiss across my knuckles.
“No matter what, Eleanor. Together or not, in the same state or thousands of miles apart, even if we go another five years without speaking–I will never stop being a kind voice in your life.”
All I can do is nod. If I open my mouth right now, I’m going to turn into a huge blubbering mess, and the last thing I need is another public outburst. I grip his hand tightly for a few minutes, not letting go until I feel like I can speak again.
“I think we really did it this time,” I say with a watery chuckle as I gather my things. “We finally had the grown-up closure conversation. Look at us go.”
“Is that what this is, Eleanor? Closure?”
“I think it is. Right?”
“If that’s what you want it to be.”
“Is that what you want?”
“You know what I want, darlin’,” he says with a shrug, standing up when I rise from my chair. “It’s what I’ve always wanted. But it’s up to you.” I hesitate, opening and closing my mouth several times as I try to find the right words.
No, I don’t want closure. I want you.
“You don’t need to know what you want right this second,” he says, graciously letting me off the hook while I fumble around my own mind, still looking for something to say. “You don’t even need to tell me when you do figure it out, if you don’t want to.”
He holds the door open for me as we step into the pale autumn sunshine.
I point over my shoulder at my car, and he gestures wordlessly toward his truck on the opposite side of the parking lot.
He pulls me into a hug, the familiar scent of him wrapping around my soul the way his arms wrap around my body.
“But for what it’s worth,” he says as we untangle our arms. “I unblocked your number the second you left the barn a few weeks ago.” He takes a few steps backward, keeping his eyes on me as he heads in the direction of his truck. “If you do want to tell me, call me anytime.”
He flashes a boyish grin at me, then turns away, shoving his hands in his pockets and half-skipping across the parking lot. “I will, I promise,” I yell after him, laughing.
“I love you, darlin',” he hollers back, slamming his door shut before I have the chance to reply. Whether it’s from fear that I won’t say it back or trying to let me off the hook, I don’t really care. I do love him. “Always have, always will,” I whisper to myself before getting in my car.
Pulling out my phone, I click on Abby’s number and bring it up to my ear. She answers on the second ring.
“How did it go?” She sounds breathless, like she might have been holding it from the moment I told her I was meeting Griffin today.
“I need your help planning something.” I can hear the smile in my voice as much as I can feel it on my face.
“Oooooh,” she says excitedly. “I like the sound of that.”