13. Ellie
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ellie
BEING BACK IN THIS house was, for lack of a better word, a mindfuck.
It existed in some sort of time bubble, as if plucked from my memories.
Sure, it felt a little sparse compared to the last time I’d been here, considering Anne had moved some of the furnishings to her new home.
But she’d left a lot behind, too. Almost like she hadn’t quite been able to give the picture of this place up.
Like she wanted to believe that there was still a reality where she lived here with her husband and five children and, occasionally, the neighbor girl who lived across the street.
Emotion swelled in my chest, and then it was brimming in my lower lashes, gathering there.
God, how I’d missed this place.
From the dog scratches on the back door to the rosebushes out front, it was everything I’d remembered it to be.
And even though I didn’t know what would happen next, even though there was a man standing across from me who half hated me—or maybe fully hated me, considering the sudden dead look in his eyes—I was glad I was here.
It felt right that I was here.
“I’m sorry…what?”
It seemed to physically pain Sully to get those words out of his mouth. They were the first ones he’d spoken in what seemed like an hour. He’d gone still after I’d told him I was pregnant—like statue-level still—which was admittedly terrifying, considering Sully and who he was.
At this point, I was struggling not to throw up, and it took me a few seconds of steadying myself before I could figure out how to say the words again.
Sully looked like he was about to jump out of his skin while he waited for confirmation.
“I’m pregnant, Sully.”
There was a tick in his jaw as soon as I said the words, and I winced.
The shaken look on his face was not promising. And the hollow sound in his voice when he finally spoke again was even worse.
“You’re—” He cut himself off, rubbing his jaw and turning around so I couldn’t see his face.
I hated that, but I was grateful that he’d finally moved, showed some kind of life outside of his tortured expression. His statuesque state had been scaring the shit out of me.
I slid off the counter, my knees buckling a little when my feet hit the floor.
“I can’t fucking believe this,” I heard him murmur, and my stomach dropped, landing right next to my heels on the linoleum.
My hands were shaking now as I wiped the nervous sweat from my palms on my back pockets.
“Look, I know—”
“I think I changed my mind.” Sully turned halfway around so I could see his tense profile. He was shaking his head, like he could reject the information he’d just learned, get it out of his mind. “I don’t—I don’t think I can do this.”
Fuck.
It was hard to say what I thought was going to happen when I told Sully about the baby. I’d been too afraid to imagine it, to pile my hopes onto the scenario. But I never expected him to react like this.
He’d told me, that night in Boston, that he didn’t hate me. But right now, he sure as hell was acting like he did.
I’d thought my heart was as broken as it could get, but this, all of this, was proving me wrong. Pieces of me I didn’t know existed were breaking off and fracturing into teeny, tiny pieces.
“You don’t—” I had to try again when my voice caught. “You don’t have to do anything, Sully. I just—”
“No, I don’t think I can do this.” He made a swirling motion with his hand, gesturing to the house around us.
“You, here, living in this house, my house, and making a home while pregnant with some other guy’s baby.
After the way things went between us, El?
After what you said, after everything we—” He forcibly stopped his words from coming out, choking on a breath while I tried to find mine again.
I never liked interrupting Sully, not when everyone else seemed to do it to him when his words wouldn’t stop.
This felt like an appropriate exception, though.
If only I could get my words out faster, figure out what to say.
“Fuck, Eleanor. Why does it have to be here? Why do you have to be here? Is it your mom? To be close?”
He flung his arm, pointing across the street, and my heart shattered a little when his gaze found mine. His chest heaved, and his eyes…his cerulean eyes looked soulless, haunted.
Oh, Sawyer.
I hadn’t even thought, hadn’t even considered, that he might not naturally come to the right conclusion.
It seemed so obvious to me, that this baby had to be ours.
But Sully had seen that stack of condoms I’d brought with me to Boston, had questioned me on them, had glared at how many there were.
And knowing him, that was still in his mind.
That steel trap of a mind that didn’t forget anything.
“No.” I shook my head, wringing my hands.
“No?”
“No,” I whispered, taking a tentative step forward.
He took a step back, and if possible, my heart cracked into smaller pieces.
But I didn’t let it stop me.
“No, it has nothing to do with my mom.” I tried to speak calmly. It was easier to do, easier to get the words out now that I understood him, knew what was happening in his mind. “I love her, and I will always care for her, but you know we’re not close like that. That’s not why I’m here.”
I inched toward him, and he took to looking at the ceiling, like he knew we had to finish this conversation, knew he couldn’t run away, but didn’t know what to do about my proximity and the way it seemed to pain him.
“Why, then?”
His voice was dull, almost emotionless, and I knew I had to draw him out before he retreated too far into his head.
“Because the baby’s dad—” Sully squeezed his eyes shut. “—is from here.”
He swallowed hard, and I knew he was debating whether he should ask for clarification.
“Sawyer,” I said, gentle, soft.
“Eleanor, I—” He was shaking his head again like he didn’t know if he wanted to hear it. His eyes were still closed.
“Just listen,” I whispered, and after a second, he nodded.
A bit of relief calmed my nerves.
“I’m here,” I explained slowly, “because this is where he used to talk about raising his kids.”
We were close enough now that I could touch him, and I…I had to. He’d gone down some rabbit hole in his head, and I had to pull him back. I pressed my palm to his cheek, and he jerked a little before stilling. His body leaned in.
“I’m here because he once whispered to me about taking his kids to five-dollar movie nights at the old Rosewood theater.
And because he wanted to spend summers teaching them how to swim in the lake down the road and spend winters showing them how to skate.
Because he once imagined crisp, snowy mornings playing pond hockey with smaller versions of himself, and I know there’s things under his bed—books and LEGO and ancient video games—that he’s been waiting to pass on.
I’m here because this is his home, and it used to be mine, too. ”
Sully’s eyes blinked open, and I don’t think I was prepared for the look in them. It was something awed, something reverential. He’d gone from hardly being able to stand the sight of me to staring at me like he never wanted to look away.
“El?” he breathed, like he didn’t want me to stop talking. Like he needed more—more of a confirmation. His hands mirrored mine, coming up to cup both sides of my face. “Are you…really?”
My vision was blurry as I nodded. “Really.”
His lips parted, words suspended as he figured out what to say, and all I could do was wait. Repeat “Really” until he believed me.
Really, Sawyer.
This was really happening.
And I was really scared.
And even though I hated admitting it, I really need you.
“You came back,” he finally breathed, ragged and broken. “You came home so that I could, so that we could…”
His gaze drifted lower, to my stomach, like he didn’t trust himself to say it yet, needing to look for himself in order to believe it, even though there was nothing to see. Not yet.
I choked out a watery “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”
Those blue eyes collided back with mine, wide now. Wondrous.
“It can’t be anyone else’s, Sawyer,” I said, making that clear.
“What?”
“The baby.”
His eyes flicked around my face again, assessing the truth of my words, and whatever he found there must have finally been enough for him to believe it—believe it all. His entire body deflated, his forehead dropped to mine, and his eyes squeezed shut again.
“Fuck.” His exhale was broken, gruff, and it seemed to drag across my skin, causing me to shiver.
He was still clutching my face, and I was still clutching his, but I wasn’t quite sure how to let him go.
“Eleanor. God, I—” Cedar and amber swirled in the air as I breathed in the distinct scent of home.
“Say it,” he rasped. “Say more. Please. I need to hear—please.”
“I’m pregnant with your baby, Sawyer.” Our heavy, erratic breaths mingled. When Sully was quiet except for a long exhale, I checked, “Is that what you needed? What you wanted me to say?”
“Yes. Fuck, yes, thank you,” he groaned before his head dropped to my shoulder instead. And then, suddenly, Sully was on his knees. And his hands were gripping the fabric of my shirt while his head pressed against my stomach. “Oh my God, El.”
I stared down at him as I tried to steady myself, relief spreading through my limbs—limbs that were moving of their own accord.
My fingers tangled themselves in messy blond hair, needing to feel that this moment was real.
As if the way Sully was slipping his hands under my shirt to palm my stomach wasn’t enough.
“I’m sorry,” I found myself saying, even though I wasn’t entirely sure what part of this whole thing I was apologizing for. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t.” Sully shook his head, even while his face was still half-pressed against my stomach. “Don’t. I’m sorry. For a second, I just thought—fuck.”
“It’s okay,” I assured him.