Chapter 2
ELOISE
“ W ell, this is me.” I smile awkwardly when Lance and I step up to the door of my apartment block.
“Yep, this is you.” He glances all the way up the building, as if he’s waiting for that invitation to come up.
I left here earlier, determined that tonight would be ‘the’ night.
Lance is a great guy; he’s handsome, considerate, kind, and he’s a cop!
I’m pretty sure you can’t get much safer than that.
But what matters to me most is that Lance is patient.
This is the fifth time he’s taken me out, and I haven’t even built up enough courage to hold his hand.
The fact that he hasn’t even tried to make any moves himself has me wondering if he can sense my insecurities. Maybe it's a cop instinct.
I owe it to myself to at least try and step out of my comfort zone. I’ve come this far. All I need to do now is ask a six-word question.
Just because I invite him up doesn’t mean he’ll expect me to sleep with him. We could watch a movie, maybe even make out if I’m feeling brave. Fuck…just the thought of doing that fills me with dread.
“Thanks for a great night,” I back out, quickly turning my back on him and pulling my keys from my purse. My hand fumbles to locate the right one so I can get it in the lock, and when I feel him step up closer behind me, I freeze with fear.
“Hey, relax.” Lance takes the keys from my hand and finds the one that fits into the lock. My heart starts beating faster, my palms go clammy, and I hold my breath while I wait.
“Goodnight, Eloise. I had a great time, and I really hope we get to do this again.” He pops the door open and places a soft kiss on my cheek before moving on. It takes me so long to register what just happened that when I eventually turn around, he’s gone.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” I whisper to myself before rushing inside and closing the door behind me. The elevator’s still broken, so I pull out my cell to call Katelyn as I make my way up the stairs to my apartment on the third floor.
“ Soooo , how did it go?” My best friend answers almost immediately.
“How do you think it went? It’s nine-thirty and I’m calling you .” I sigh, finding the key to my apartment door and feeling mortified over the way I just reacted.
“So I take it you never took the plunge.” She sounds disappointed, and I can’t blame her.
I’m disappointed in myself. I was so sure that this time I was ready.
I’ve been working so hard on my therapy, and poor Katelyn has had to listen to me talk about a new, improved me for weeks.
She even helped set up my profile on the dating app.
I’ve had five dates with this wonderful guy, and the thought of kissing him has me on the verge of a panic attack.
“I wanted to, but…I just couldn’t.” I let myself inside and flick on the light. Dumping my purse on the table, I kick off my heels and flop onto the couch.
“It’s okay, everything you're doing is a step in the right direction. It’s just going to take a little more time than we thought.
” She tries her best to sound enthusiastic, but I’m losing hope.
I’m going to die an old spinster like Mrs. Mooney, who lived on the second floor and was dead for a week before anyone noticed.
“What guy is going to still be hanging on for a tenth date if I can’t even consider kissing him?” I roll my eyes and rest my head back. “Do you really think I’m ready for all this, Kat? I went into a full panic downstairs. I wasn’t even planning on having sex tonight, I just wanted to–”
“We’re not taking any steps backwards, Eloise. You are ready for this; it’s just a little harder to share your safe space than you expected it to be. How did the two of you leave things?”
“Well, he did say he’d like to see me again. I figure that's something.” I sigh.
“That's more than something … Officer Worthington clearly realizes that you are worth the wait. You could always use your next date to explain why things have to go at a steady pace,” she suggests, knowing that I won’t like it.
Katelyn has been my best friend since I was ten; she’s the only person in the world without a doctorate who knows anything about my past.
“No,” I tell her firmly. I’d rather die a virgin than share with anyone else the things that happened to me when I was younger.
“Come on, Eloise, if you see a future with this guy, you’d have to tell him at some point anyway. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I’m not turning our date into a therapy session, and as for the future…I can’t even get the man past my front door. Let's not run before we can walk.”
“I’m just saying, don’t give up. You deserve to have all the things you want out of life,” she whispers.
“Do you ever think about settling down?” I ask.
Katelyn is the complete opposite of me; she’s spontaneous and full of confidence.
She dates a different guy every week, and her worst nightmare would be to be in a relationship.
I’m sure she’s one of those commitment-phobes we published an article on once.
“Me…? It would take someone pretty special.” She laughs to herself. “We still having lunch tomorrow?” She quickly takes the heat off herself.
“Of course. I’ll see you then.”
“Good night, Eloise, and don’t worry. It won’t be like this forever.”
“Night, Katelyn.” I hang up the phone and debate whether I should put on a movie or just go straight to bed.
For most people in this city, the night’s only just getting started, and here I am…
poor, weak little Eloise, home before ten and feeling sorry for herself.
I laugh at how pathetic I am, and before the laughter can turn to tears, I get up and head for the kitchen.
It’s not often that I drink, but tonight, after my lack of achievement, I think I deserve it. I always have a bottle of tequila on standby for when Katelyn comes over. Making margaritas and hearing about her sexcapades is what we usually do on a Friday night, if she hasn’t got a date.
I pour myself a shot and throw it back before I tell myself it’s a bad idea. It burns a little on the way down, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I quickly pour another and take the bottle with me as I move back over to the couch.
I open the dating app on my phone and flick through some of the guys that come up. Lance may tick all of the boxes, but maybe that’s the problem. My mind is programmed to be wary, and there is that age-old saying that if it’s too good to be true, it probably is.
I keep scrolling, knocking more tequila back, this time straight from the bottle. I’m starting to like the way it’s making me feel numb. One of the reasons I barely drink is that it seems to evaporate all my inhibitions. Maybe this is the way forward.
I eventually tire of reading through the endless profiles, and the words are starting to blur anyway.
These guys can be anyone they want to be on this app.
The only way to really know if a person is genuine is to look them in the eyes.
Fuck the days spent messaging small talk and all the awkward first date bull shit.
What I need to feel is a connection. One that surpasses all my fears and makes me want to push my boundaries, and I’m not going to find that here on my couch, looking at this app.
I need to take action.
Taking another swig from the bottle, I get up and grab my purse before heading for the mirror. My hair is still looking good. I don’t usually wear make-up, but that's looking okay too. All I need to do is touch up my lip gloss and straighten out my dress.
“Don’t think…Do,” I tell my reflection, before taking another hit from the bottle and sliding back into my heels.
There's a club two blocks from here, I’ve been there plenty of times with Katelyn, she knows the guys on the door.
“There's nothing wrong with a single woman heading out on her own to get a drink. This is a decent neighbourhood,” I try convincing myself, and as soon as any doubt in my words starts creeping to the surface, I swallow it back down with more tequila.
Now is not the time for doubts. Not if I want to overcome my past. Not everyone is bad. I see kindness every day. I was dealt a shitty blow when I was younger, but it doesn’t have to define me.
“Here we go.” Popping my lip gloss back in my purse, I head for the door and start making my way downstairs.
My feet are a little wobbly, but my confidence has doubled as I throw open the door and step out into the night.
The streets are well lit, there are still plenty of people around, so I start marching toward the club, determined to feel something other than failure.
It’s okay to be scared. It is not okay to let fear consume you and keep you from getting the things you want from life.
I keep moving forward, ignoring my surroundings and focusing on my goal.
Tonight, I’m going to dance the way Katelyn does, right in the middle of the dance floor.
I’m not going to care who’s watching or if they’re getting the wrong impression of me.
I learned enough in that self-defense course I took to handle myself if they do.
I see the club in the distance, even if it does look a little blurry, and taking one last sip from the bottle for courage, I dump it in the nearest trash can.
I spin my head when I suddenly get a sense that I’m being watched, but no one’s there, just a couple strolling hand in hand, looking sickeningly in love with each other.
I let them pass before I move on, continuing to head for the doors of the club.
I’m almost there when suddenly my stomach starts to churn, and my mouth goes dry.
“Shit.” I rush into the nearest alleyway, just managing to lift the lid on one of the dumpsters in time to throw up.
“Fucking great.” I wipe my hand over my mouth as I stumble backwards. The floor beneath me starts to feel like it’s shaking, and the walls surrounding me spin so fast I have to place my hand out to steady myself. Maybe the tequila wasn’t such a good idea. None of this is a good idea!
I lose my footing, falling backwards onto the cold, hard concrete, and when I look up at the starry night, I smile at how pretty it is, before everything fades to black.