79. Now
SEVENTY-NINE
now
Unable to sleep or drink or live through one more second of the constant litany of mistakes looping through my thoughts, I go into the office at five a.m. on Monday morning.
By the time the sun starts to rise, I’ve lost myself in the work I missed on Friday. Each time I pause, a memory from our day together rises to my mind’s surface.
Ella giggling on my bed.
Ella making fun of my apartment.
Her coupon .
Her beaming enthusiasm and pride when I told her I designed the place.
Christ .
As I breathe through a searing burst of yearning, the door to my office flies open. Marco strides in, holding up a handful of files. “We’ve got him.”
I shove all my other shit aside. “Show me.”
He lays out a document. “I drove back down to Ella’s building last night and interviewed her super. It bothered me that we couldn’t figure out how Daniel got into her place Saturday morning. When I asked the landlord, he told me he’d never interacted with anyone named Daniel Stryker, but he had met with Grayson Stryker, the new CEO of the company building the parcel across the street.”
“I never met with him,” I put in.
Marco nods again. “Exactly. I knew that, so I showed him a picture of you, and he didn’t know you. Then, I showed him a picture of Daniel…”
“That fucker pretended to be me?” I yell. “ That’s how he got her keys? When? How?”
Another paper appears in front of me—a photocopy of a real estate deed. “Friday. He forged the contract and told the super that Stryker he took girls home…”
I’ve done the same math. “I know.”
“I feel sick,” Graham confesses. “I haven’t eaten in days.”
I snort at myself. “I can’t stop . It’s the only thing that helps me not want to vomit for five minutes.”
“Fuck it,” he huffs, picking up his pastrami on rye and taking a bite. With a shudder, he sets the sandwich back down. “Nope. Can’t do it.”
We sit in our heavy silence, with our heavy consciences. Picking at his sleeve, examining it for lint, he finally says, “You know what I can’t stop thinking about?”
I hold my breath, almost afraid to ask. “What?”
He looks right at me. “She went back, man. After she saw Daniel at your parents’ beach house and she ran away… Ella knew the man who attacked her was in there, and she still went back into that house. For you.”
For a brief second, the pain that rips through me feels life-ending. I’m sure if I look at the floor beside my feet, I’ll see all of my organs lying in a bloody puddle, gutted.
But he’s right.
She didn’t run away that day. Not at all. She did the opposite; she faced everything she was afraid of just to avoid abandoning me without an explanation. She was willing to confront the man who raped her before she left me. And she only left after he forced her to—by threating her loved ones. And me. And her.
Now that I know Daniel threatened to violate her again if she stayed and waited for me to return that morning—do I really wish she’d stayed ?
No.
I’m glad she left when she did and got the hell away from him. And it obviously wasn’t her fault that he corrupted my contact in her phone so she couldn’t call once she was safe.
Graham watches everything click together in my mind. “You were never happier than when you were with her,” he tells me. “You know I hate this shit to the bottom of my soul, but… she’s the one for you, Grayson. Which means this is it . She is it , Grayson.”
As much as I want to go charging out to Brooklyn, I need to make good on my word first.
So I find myself sitting in Dr. Laura Dawn’s office. I stay through two other sessions with scheduled patients before she has a short break to speak with me.
After we briefly introduce ourselves, I rush on. “I know you have a busy schedule. I appreciate you carving out this window for me.”
Even standing still, she has the soft, swaying quality of a weeping willow. Her kimono and long skirt move as she nods. “I know you’re dealing with something time sensitive. If you’d like to make an appointment to come back, I can provide much more in-depth advice. But, for now, how can I help?”
I’ve had two hours to rehearse exactly what to say. What I need to know in order to move forward with Ellie and never look back .
And it surprises me.
Because I don’t want to know if I’ll ever be able to have sex with her again. Or if I’ll ever forgive myself. I don’t need any reassurance that we’ll find our way through anything. Or that she’ll make me the happiest man on earth.
I realize I already know all of that.
I realize as long as I have Ellie, I’ll always have everything I need. We’ll find a way. Together.
Which leaves only one question.
“Do you think,” I say, staring the doctor down, “if Ella and I are together, that being with me would make her happy?”
Dr. Laura smiles softly. “I think Ella is a bright, lovely, kind woman, gifted with wonderful resilience.”
Huh . A sardonic smile flickers over my face. “Is that a yes?”
“Well, one could argue that whether or not you make her happy is really up to you ,” she returns, her brows arching.
Oh, I would . My features tighten. “If it’s safe for me to have Ellie, I will spend the rest of my life making her as happy as I possibly can.”
“Well, then.” Dr. Laura’s face doesn’t register a modicum of doubt. “It sounds like the only piece of the puzzle you need to figure out is how Ella feels about that. You should ask her for herself.”
It can’t possibly be that simple… can it? “But it wouldn’t hurt her to be with me?” I verify. “Or traumatize her more? In your opinion?”
Kindness and compassion saturate her expression. “No, Grayson. Not at all. In fact, it’s my professional opinion that you and Ella would thrive with a little bit of guidance and therapy. You’ve both been through so much. If you’re given the opportunity to process it together, it should help reestablish your bond. I’d be happy to help you both if Ella agrees.”
Inside of me, the rumble of hope builds to a deafening roar. My mind races, looking for any other reason to hold myself back. “She said she still loved me,” I find myself sharing. “And she?— ”
Dr. Laura waited patiently. “She?”
I swallow through my thickened throat. “She went back. That day, at my parents’ beach house. Even though she knew he was in there—she went back. For me.”
The enormity of that humbles me. Ella’s goodness is staggering and wonderful. And—maybe—mine. It doesn’t seem possible.
But Dr. Laura simply meets my gaze. “I haven’t met very many people who are that brave.”
“To face their attackers?”
“No.” She smiles softly again. “To love that hard. ”