31. Healing Eleanor
Healing Eleanor
Nikolai
My heart lodges in my throat.
Eleanor is standing here in front of me, at church, looking healthier than I’ve seen her in months.
If she wasn’t wearing her walking boot, I would’ve thought I was imagining her.
While she’s still slim, I can see she’s making progress.
Color has returned to her cheeks, and her face is filled out just enough to hint at the recovery she’s been working toward.
If I wasn’t in public, I might fall to my knees in tears of joy, thanking God for answering my prayers.
Her beautiful honey-brown eyes lift to mine, waiting.
She asked if we could talk alone.
The thought both exhilarates and rattles me.
When Lily first spotted Eleanor, she practically tried to shove me out of my seat to go to her. I knew this moment was coming, but I wasn’t ready to face the possibility that Eleanor might not feel the same as I do.
I glance up to see Lily staring at me, eyes wide, face set in a silent command. Go.
I shift my focus back to Eleanor’s wary expression. “Yeah, that’s fine,” I reply, keeping my voice steady, trying to mask the whirlwind inside me.
She gives a small nod before falling into step behind me.
I lead her outside and around the building, away from the crowd, finding a secluded spot where we can speak without interruption. Few people ever wander here, making it the perfect place to finally confront the words we’ve both been holding back.
She wraps her coat tighter around herself, and I wonder if maybe this isn’t the right spot after all.
“Do you want to go somewhere else?” I ask, my voice scraping against a knot of tension.
She shakes her head. “No, this is okay,” she says quietly.
I lean back against the brick wall, crossing my arms, unsure where to start. So I remain silent, not wanting to mess this up.
She stands just a few feet away, cheeks flushed from the cold, fidgeting with her fingers like she doesn’t know what to do with them.
Seeing her just as nervous as I am makes me feel some small relief. Maybe there’s still a spark of hope here.
She pulls air deep into her chest, letting it out with a self-conscious, quiet laugh. “I don’t even know where to start,” she murmurs, glancing up at me.
I press my lips together, not daring to speak, not wanting to interrupt a single word.
She bites her bottom lip. “Um…” She swallows visibly. “I want to start by saying how sorry I am, Nik.” Her voice is quiet but steady.
My knees threaten to buckle beneath me.
“I’m sorry for lying to you. And I’m sorry that I couldn’t perform when you needed me most,” she continues.
I want to tell her I couldn’t care less about the production, but I stay silent, gripping my arms tighter.
Her breath hitches in her throat. “I also want to thank you… for caring for me when no one else did. For being my lighthouse in a storm, I suppose.” She gives a tiny, shy laugh.
My muscles go rigid, fighting the invisible tether pulling me toward her.
“You showed me love when I didn’t deserve it,” she says softly, “and I can’t begin to tell you how much I regret betraying you.” Her lip trembles as she bites it again. “There are… other things I regret, too.”
I grit my teeth, preparing for her next words.
“I regret not listening when you shared your faith. I see now what a gift it is, how healing it is.” She clears her throat.
“I believe now. I mean… in God. I believe in God now. This is my first time at a church, and I didn’t even mean to come here…
” Her words tumble over each other, almost a ramble.
Color blooms across her cheekbones. “Sorry. Um…” She shifts on her feet.
“I also regret continuing to dance when I should’ve stopped to take care of myself.
” Her gaze doesn’t waver from mine. “So that’s why I’m done.
I’m not dancing anymore.” She gives a small shrug.
“I broke the contract with Kasper a few days ago and signed up for college classes. I don’t know what I’m going to do yet, but I wanted to start somewhere. ”
I inhale deeply, every fiber in me fighting the urge to close the distance between us, to kiss her like I want to.
“But there’s one thing I regret most of all,” she whispers.
My heart gallops against my ribs like a thoroughbred set loose.
“I regret not telling you I loved you when I had the chance.” The moment stretches, neither of us looking away.
“Because I do. I love you, Nik.” She looks down shyly, then peeks back up at me through her lashes.
“I only hope now that you still feel the same… and that you can forgive me.” Her voice breaks, and I can’t take it anymore.
I push off the wall, cup her face in my hands, and claim her lips as mine. She freezes for a moment, stunned, but then she grips my forearms and kisses me back with equal force.
The first kiss is all the pent-up longing and ache of missing each other.
The second is everything we never said.
And the third is a promise, that whatever comes next, love will carry us through it.
I pull away reluctantly, not wanting to fuel desires we can’t give into. Resting my forehead against hers, I take her cold hands in mine and squeeze them between us. “Don’t think for one second that I’ve stopped loving you, Eleanor,” I whisper.
A sob breaks from her chest. “Then why didn’t you come?”
I lean back just enough to see her eyes, though I keep her close.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” I breathe into the cold.
“After you fell, Kasper threatened to fire me if I contacted you.” I hang my head, the memory still bitter.
“But I was also terrified of letting my heart be broken by you. I knew it would be the worst pain I’d ever feel. ”
My thumb brushes a tear from her cheek. “And then my mom died. I was drowning in grief. I couldn’t find the air, let alone the strength to reach for you.” I press a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I should’ve come for you anyway. And I hope… I hope you can forgive me for that too.”
She pulls me close, arms winding around me as she rests her head against my chest.
I close my eyes and hold her tighter, breathing her in, reveling in the feel of her against me.
“It won’t happen again, will it?” she mumbles into my shirt.
My arms tighten around her. “I won’t leave you, Eleanor. As long as we both want this, I’ll be here—through anything.” And I mean every word.
She tilts her head up, honey-brown eyes searching mine. “What… is this?”
I can’t stop the smile tugging at my mouth. “Are we in high school now, Elenochka?” I tease.
A subtle rosy hue creeps back into her skin. “No—I just—” She stumbles over her words, flustered.
I chuckle softly. “Relax. I’m only messing with you.”
She groans and playfully swats my chest. “Is this where you start being mean to me just because you like me?”
I frame her face in my hands, brushing my thumbs gently over her skin. My voice drops, low and certain. “Am I not allowed to tease my girlfriend?”
Before she can answer, I kiss her again. This time slower, softer, savoring the warmth of her lips against mine, sealing the promise we’ve just made.
When I pull away, her eyes are still closed. “Where do we go from here?” she whispers, opening them slowly.
I draw a steady breath, keeping her close. “We take it day by day. You’re still healing—and doing a great job by the looks of it.”
Her eyes widen, a faint blush dusting her cheeks again, and I can’t suppress the smirk tugging at my lips.
“And I’m still trying to grieve,” I admit.
“I’m so sorry, Nik,” she murmurs, tucking her head against my chest.
I press a kiss to the crown of her hair. “No grand plans. No pressure. Let’s just… rediscover life together, one step at a time.”
She nods softly against me, and I bury my smile in her hair.
“We can start with what you’re doing today,” I tease lightly.
She lifts her face, eyes shining. “I was actually on my way to the grocery store before I decided to stop here.”
I tilt my head, eyes sparkling. “Then let’s go.”
Her brows lift. “You want to go grocery shopping with me?”
I lace my fingers through hers, giving her hand a firm squeeze as I lead us toward the parking lot. “I want to do everything with you.”
Her lips curve into a smile as we walk to my car, a sweet and steady silence lingering between us.
There will be ups and downs, like anything. But we have something stronger to hold onto. Our faith, our love, and each other. Whatever storms come, we won’t face them alone.
I thank God right then. For His faithfulness, for never abandoning me in my grief. But most of all, I thank Him for healing Eleanor.