Chapter 53
Griffin
Imeant what I said to Eleanor. I’ll never stop loving or wanting her–and I’ll be whatever she wants me to be. Things are different now, though.
Just like she always wanted.
So I’m okay with whatever comes. I’m just happy to have been a part of it.
But for the first time in years, instead of actively avoiding her, I’m actually hoping to run into her, which naturally means that I haven’t seen her once tonight.
It doesn’t help that David has been weirdly plastered to my side all night, dragging me into conversation after conversation with classmates I barely remember, and making me redo his 360 video seven times.
“I haven’t seen Jack in a while,” I yell over the music. “I’m going to go find him.”
“Good idea, I’ll come too!” David yells.
“No, it’s fine, you stay,” I say hurriedly. “I’ll be right back.”
He shifts on his feet nervously, biting his lower lip and looking distinctly like a little kid who’s about to get in trouble.
“What?” I ask, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Why are you being weird?”
“I know something,” he says, “And you’re not supposed to know about it, and you’re not supposed to know there’s anything to know, and I’m not supposed to let you out of my sight.”
Letting out an exasperated huff, I try to keep a patient tone. “What are you talking about, David?”
“That’s the thing, man, I can’t tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“Nothing. Nothing to tell. Anything you wanna tell me?”
I’m going to hit him.
“Hey man, do you have a sec?”
David’s saving grace comes in the form of Abby’s husband, Aaron. I hear David audibly sigh in relief behind me, and I close my eyes for a second to regain my composure.
“Sure, what’s up?”
“They want me to set up a second drink table out in the gardens, but all my guys are swamped right now. Think you could help me?”
“Yeah, no problem,” I say, shooting David a glare to let him know he’s not off the hook about…whatever it is he’s not telling me. I follow Aaron to the kitchens, taking the box of glasses he hands to me before making our way to the gardens.
After setting the glasses out on the table, I turn to head back inside, but Aaron stops me.
“Uh, hey, wait,” he says, stepping in front of me to block my path. “Have you uh, seen the rose garden yet? They did a pretty cool job with all the blast-from-the-past stuff.”
“Nah, but I’ll make sure to check it out before I leave,” I say, moving to step around him when he grabs my arm.
“No, you should definitely go do it now. Like right now.”
What the hell?
Every step I take, he follows suit, continuing to block me until I say, “Okay, fine, geez, I’ll go check out the gardens if it’s that big of a deal to you. Did you help set it up or something?”
“Uh, no,” he stammers, looking around wildly like he’s trying to find something to stall for time. “But uh…Abby did. Yeah, Abby helped. Gotta support my wife and all, you know?”
Shooting him a bewildered look, because he’s clearly lost his mind, I give in and begin down the path to the hedges. When I get closer, I see Jack and Abby standing at the entrance like guard dogs, whispering to each other furiously.
“Howdy,” I say, announcing my presence with a wave. “Abby, your husband has gone insane. He basically held me hostage and forced me to come out here to support you.”
“Support me?” she says, brows furrowing in confusion.
“Yeah, since you helped with the memory walk or whatever.”
She and Jack share a look that I can’t quite read, and I get the feeling that it’s not just David who knows something I don’t.
“What the hell is going on? David’s stuck to me like a barnacle, Aaron trapped me, you guys are clearly plotting something. Anyone care to clue me in?”
“Oh stop it, you drama queen,” Abby says, rolling her eyes. I swear, she rolls her eyes more than anyone I know.
I wonder if it ever gives her headaches.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Jack says, the corners of his mouth twitching upward, which is the equivalent of jumping for joy for him.
“Okay, weirdos.” I shake my head and move in the direction of the arrow sign.
“No wait,” Abby shouts. “Go this way.”
I look past her to the left side entrance, my brow arching skeptically.
“Go the way that’s blocked by the giant Do Not Enter sign?”
“Um, yes,” she says unconvincingly.
“Do it, man, trust us,” Jack says, a mischievous glint in his eye that makes me infinitely more nervous than anyone else’s weird behavior tonight.
“Okay, now I’m scared. Am I being punked?”
“March, mister,” Abby says, pointing down the hedge path.
“Alright, alright,” I say, raising my hands in surrender. “I’m going.”
Jack and Abby beam at one another, then hurry back toward the barn as I take my first step into the roses. Strings of bulb lights have been hung along the hedges, bathing the flowers in a warm glow. Looking ahead, I notice there are frames hung along what looks like the entire path.
I approach the first frame, doing a double-take when I realize it’s a picture of me.
Well, a picture of me, David, Jack, and Eleanor from freshman year.
I didn’t even realize we had pictures from back then–it looks like this one was taken by David during Spanish, his face smiling at the camera, Jack scowling behind him, with Eleanor and me in heated conversation, completely unaware that we’re being photographed.
I notice a folded note clothespinned to the frame with Griffin written on the front. Unclipping and unfolding it, I immediately recognize the handwriting as Eleanor’s.
Griffin and Ellie, age 14
photographed on a Nikon Coolpix by Mr. David Romero
She didn’t know it then, but she was made to love him. And boy, did she.
Pocketing the note, I step up to the next frame. It’s a photo of two people in a hammock, but their faces are hidden behind their knees. All you can see is a pair of cowboy boots planted firmly on the ground next to a set of bare feet dangling several inches above the grass.
Griffin and Ellie, age 15
photographed by Mr. Rick Turner
The sweetest moments of her life were the ones she spent with him.
I move hurriedly to the next frame, grinning when I see a photo I recognize. It’s one I took the year we did a surprise party for her in Spanish class.
Ellie Turner, 16th Birthday
photographed by Mr. Griffin Hart
Every birthday from that year on, she wished for him.
I continue down the winding path, reliving memories and collecting notes, a pirate on the world’s most incredible scavenger hunt. There are so many moments that I didn’t know had been captured, and so many thoughts from Eleanor’s head that she never shared with me.
When I approach the final corner, just before the path twists back toward the entrance, the photo in the frame makes my stomach turn. I’m in a tux, one hand holding a glass of champagne, the other wrapped around the waist of a stunning blonde in a maroon dress.
Griffin and Ellie, age 24
taken by the photographer at Aaron & Abby’s wedding
The moment she wishes she could go back to most.
She would change it if she could.
This was the last photo we took together. Staring down at it, the grief is unavoidable as tears prick the corners of my eyes. Hastily wiping them away, I set the frame back and absentmindedly tuck the note in a separate pocket from the rest.
When I turn the corner, I’m stunned by what must be hundreds of flickering candles, their light dancing off the hedges and turning a simple garden into an actual fairytale.
“Don’t worry, they’re all battery powered,” a voice in front of me says. “I wouldn’t dare risk burning down your Texas roses, cowboy.”
I slide my gaze from the candles to the woman standing in front of me–ethereal, angelic, so beautiful it hurts.
For a moment, I stand completely still and silent, unable to comprehend exactly what it is I’m looking at.
I know this is something huge, something life-altering, but all I can think to say is–
“Howdy there, darlin’.”
Taking a deep breath, she takes a step toward me.
“When I was fourteen, all I wanted was to leave this town, and everyone in it. And then I met you,” she says, lifting her eyes to reach mine. The candle flames reflect off her deep, blue eyes like starlight, and all I want is to lose myself in them forever.
The sound of fingers snapping brings me back to attention, and she whispers, “Can you pay attention? I’m trying to do something here.”
“Sorry,” I chuckle, making a show of planting my feet firmly and standing at attention, focusing on her face with intense concentration.
“As I was saying, I met you. And you changed everything, Griffin. You changed the way I looked at things, the way I thought about life. You changed my hopes, my dreams, my idea of love. You changed me. You are in every fiber of my being, in every piece of my soul–and I am so much better for it.”
Taking another step closer, she continues, “I spent so long being scared. I don’t even think anything happened, I just knew that I felt scared, so there must be something to be scared of. And I thought that thing was you. But I was wrong.” She steps forward again.
“I’m not scared anymore. You were–are–the best thing that ever happened to me.
You make me want to be steady, to be sure of things the way that you are.
And it took me a long time, a lot of mistakes, and several apologetic monologues, including this one, but I think I’ve really got it figured out this time.
” She moves toward me until there’s only a foot and a half between us.
“So here it is, again, hopefully for the last time–I love you, Griffin Hart. In every way one person can love another. I always have, and I always will, if you’ll let me.”
Without a word, I take the last step, crossing the final distance between us.
“You don’t have to have an answer for me tonight,” she says, eyes dropping to where she’s anxiously twisting her hands between us.
“I know I’ve done this before, and I’ve hurt you, and there’s no taking that back, so you can take as much time as you need to figure out what you want, if you want anything at all. ”
I gently grasp her chin with my thumb and forefinger, lifting her gaze to mine.
When our eyes meet, her breath hitches, and I’m completely and utterly gone for her.
I press my hand to the small of her back, pulling her to me until there’s no space remaining between our bodies.
I lower my face to hers, my mouth hovering over hers for the briefest of moments, then we’re all lips and tongue and breath and fire.
“Everything. I want everything. You can have everything,” I whisper raggedly, my forehead pressed to hers. “And I’ll take whatever you want to give me, Eleanor, for as long as you want to give it.”
“Okay, everything it is then,” She giggles, tucking her head beneath my chin and wrapping her arms tightly around my middle. I press a kiss to the top of her head, murmuring against her soft hair. "As far as 'how long' goes, I was thinking maybe…forever? How does that sound?"
“That sounds perfect to me, darlin’–I’ll take it.”