20. Elora
20
ELORA
40.7128° N, 74.0060° W
I ’ve never had much idle time—time to just sit around and do nothing. So, you’d think I’d relish in the ability to laze about, read a book, or maybe even just explore Roman’s house and dig through his drawers to see if I can find anything interesting.
But I don’t relish in the time alone to just be.
Instead, I pace the floor in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room and watch the minutes tick by.
Pausing in front of the glass, I look out over the city with my stomach in knots.
“I should just go,” I whisper to no one but myself.
Regardless of the fact that spending any more time with his family sounds like torture, I should be there to make sure he’s okay. I should be there in case he needs me. Even if I have to sit in the waiting room alone, it’s better than sitting here. Before I’ve made up my mind, my feet are already carrying me past door after door until I reach his bedroom.
Even in here, there is a spectacular view of the city out the windows, and like the rest of the house, every inch is decorated in a way that I know someone was paid to pick each piece. Walking into his closet that is as large as the apartment I used to have back in Wyoming, I go to my bag that is still open on the floor from earlier.
Dropping to my knees, I dig through for something to wear, then strip off his shirt and get dressed right there. When I’m done, I carry his shirt back to the bedroom and leave it on the end of the bed so I can wear it later before I grab my purse and slip my feet into my sandals.
Going to the front door, even though Roman pointed out the private elevator just off the living room, I leave, shutting the door behind me and walking across the carpeted floor to the elevator. After I press the button, it seems to take forever for the doors to open up, and by the time they do, my body is filled with a nervous energy that makes my hands shake.
Pressing the button for the lobby, I watch the numbers go down one by one, then step out, feeling a sense of relief to be back where solid ground is beneath my feet.
“Elora,” Jess calls my name as I start to walk past the front desk. “Your packet is ready.”
“Oh, thanks for reminding me.” I accept the card she holds out.
“That’s your access card and ID to get into the building. Once everyone recognizes you, you won’t need to use it as often, but if anyone questions why you’re here, you just show them that.”
“Thank you, Jess.”
“Any time. Are you leaving?”
“I’m going over to join Roman at the….” I don’t finish. I don’t know what he wants people to know about his personal life. “I’m just meeting up with Roman.”
“Well, have a great evening. My shift ends in an hour, so if I don’t see you when you get back, I’ll see you around.”
“Sounds good. Have a great night.”
“You too.” She smiles as I turn for the door, which the doorman opens for me.
When I get out to the street, I stop in the middle of the busy sidewalk. I know I’m going to Lenox Hospital, but I have no idea where that is, which direction to head, nor how to get a car to take me there.
“Do you want me to grab a cab for you?” the man behind me asks, and I look at him, my shoulders sagging in relief.
“Please. That would be great,” I tell him, and he walks toward me and stops at the edge of the street. Before long, he lifts his hand, and a yellow cab pulls to a stop for him.
“Have a great evening, Ms. Barlow.” He opens the back door for me, and I slide inside, surprised that he already knows my name.
“Where to?” the driver asks as the door is shut.
“Lenox Hospital.”
Without a word, he starts to drive. When we pull up in front of the hospital thirty minutes later because the traffic is so heavy, I pay him with cash and get out.
I stop at the desk when I get inside and ask where to go using Diana’s name, and I’m directed to a different floor than we were on earlier today. My heart pounds as I get off the elevator, and I’m second-guessing my decision to come until I see him sitting in a dimly lit waiting room with his elbows on his knees, his head down, and his fingers in his hair. Even with his parents sitting nearby, he might as well be alone.
Giving his mom a small smile, which she half-heartedly returns, and ignoring his dad completely, I start in his direction, and like he senses me, his head lifts.
“Hey,” I whisper, and his eyes fill with relief.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood.” I close the distance between us, and he reaches out for my hand and pulls me to stand between his spread knees before pressing his forehead into my stomach.
“Have you heard anything yet?” I ask, running my fingers through his thick hair, and he shakes his head. I don’t tell him that she’ll be okay since I hated it when people told me that while my mom was sick. It might not have been an outright lie, and I knew the person saying it was hoping it would make me feel better, but it never did.
When his hold on me loosens, I take the seat next to him, and he instantly takes possession of my hand.
As the TV plays across the room and the time ticks by, I curl up in my chair and lean into him to get comfortable. It’s been a long day, and try as I might, I can’t hold back the yawn that escapes.
“You don’t have to stay,” he says, and I tip my head back in his direction.
“I’m not leaving unless you want me to.”
“I always want you with me.”
“Then I’m staying.” I rest my head on his shoulder, and my eyes connect with his mom’s as she sits across from us. I have no idea what she’s thinking since her expression is completely blank, but she’s also not scowling or glaring at me, so I take that as a positive.
Her husband, on the other hand, is a different story. He looks like he smells something bad or that he’s been sucking on lemons.
I don’t know how much time passes, but when a woman dressed in green scrubs walks into the waiting area, everyone instantly goes on alert, and I sit up.
“The surgery went great,” she says, looking between Roman and his parents. “Mrs. King is on her way now to the ICU for recovery. It will be about an hour before anyone can see her, and then only two people are allowed in her room at a time until visiting hours are over.”
“So, she’s okay?” Roman asks, and she nods.
“It will be a long recovery, but she’s a strong woman.” She looks through the room once more. “Do you have any other questions for me?”
Everyone shakes their heads, and then, with a nod, she leaves.
The relief in the room is palpable, and I can hear it in Francesca’s voice as she calls her daughters on the phone one by one to let them know everything went well with the surgery and that they can come back to the hospital to see Diana tonight if they’d like.
Not much later, Roman and his mom leave to go up to the ICU, and I stay behind, with his dad sitting across from me. He doesn’t talk or even try to make eye contact, but it’s still awkward. It also brings up a whole lot more questions for me.
Earlier today, I noticed Ricardo didn’t actually go into Diana’s room, and it’s a little weird he didn’t even attempt to join Roman’s mom when it was time for her to see her mother. It could be nothing, or it could be that there is a rift between Ricardo and Diana and a story there.
It’s around the time Roman and his mom come back that his sisters show up, so his mom tells us that she’s going to wait around for them to finish with their visit, then leave for the night.
The goodbye we all share is uncomfortable, but Sofia hugs me with a sincerity that surprises me, even as her dad glowers while watching. When we leave the hospital, Roman has a car waiting outside like earlier today, so we get in and head for his building. I can tell he’s exhausted, and I know for the next few days that things will be hard on him. Even if Diana’s surgery went well, she still needs to recover, and from what I heard his mom saying while trying to prepare her daughters for seeing their grandmother, Diana didn’t look like herself, not while hooked up to all the machines in her room.
After we arrive at his place, I follow Roman into the bedroom and watch him strip out of his clothes, while I do the same and put on the T-shirt I left behind earlier.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask him when he sits on the side of the bed with a groan.
“Not right now.” He tips his head back to look at me as I walk over to him, and he opens his knees. When I’m standing between them, his hands grasp the back of my thighs, dragging me closer.
“How did you get over to the hospital earlier?”
“The doorman stopped a cab for me.” I slide my thighs over his when he urges me even closer to straddle his lap. The position has nothing to do with sex. I know he just wants me as near as possible.
“I’ll program the number for the car company we use and the drivers into your phone, so you’ll have them.”
“Taking a cab worked.”
“I know. I just want you to have options.”
“All right,” I agree softly, sliding my fingers through his hair. “Are you tired?”
“Yes and no. I think I’m still hyped up on adrenaline.”
“That’s understandable.” I lean in and rest my head against his chest under his chin while wrapping my arms around him.
“Did my dad say anything to you when my mom and I left?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Why didn’t he go visit Diana with your mom?” I ask since he opened that door.
“Because she hates him and lets him know it every chance she gets.”
“Why?”
“When my grandfather died, Ricardo tried to contest his will when he found out that Giorgio left his shares of the real estate business to me instead of him.”
“That’s messed up.”
“It is, but it also wasn’t surprising. The two of them were close, and he assumed that meant my grandfather would trust him with the company.”
“He didn’t?”
“Not enough to leave most of it in his hands.”
“But he trusted you?”
“He’d seen what I had built for myself over the years without a single handout from him or my dad. I don’t know that he trusted me, but he respected my work ethic.” His hands smooth up my back. “Do you want to watch a movie? Maybe that one we started back in Oregon?”
“ The Goonies ?” I smile.
“Yeah.”
“Sure.” I pull my head back to look at him and frown. “Do you even have a TV? I don’t remember seeing one anywhere.”
“I have something better.” He touches his lips to mine, then stands with me in his arms before sliding me down his body.
Thirty minutes later, sitting next to him in a narrow theater room with plush chairs that recline at the press of a button, I curl up against him while one of my favorite movies plays on a big screen. It’s difficult not to think about the first time we started watching this movie together, back in my hotel room, when he brought me breakfast and to wonder if that was the start of us. If it was the start of whatever this thing is that feels more important and more real than anything I’ve ever experienced in my life.
As pinks and purples dance in the sky while the sun sets, I lean against the glass railing of the balcony outside Roman’s apartment that looks out over the city and Central Park. The sounds of the city are so loud I can hear them from way up here. And from this vantage point, it’s easy to feel completely detached from the chaos below as life plays out on the busy city streets.
It’s been six days since Roman and I arrived in New York, and I still can’t believe I’m here. I definitely haven’t adjusted to the life Roman lives, and I’m not sure how long it would take to think any of it is normal. Likely forever, if I’m honest.
Drawing in a breath, I turn toward the door and spot Roman in the living room, talking on the phone. He’s been gone most of the day and must have just gotten home. Not wanting to disturb him, I wander to one of the outdoor couches that center around a coffee table that doubles as a firepit and take a seat.
Tomorrow afternoon, Diana is scheduled to be released from the hospital, so Roman has been working on getting her nursing care since she’s stubbornly refused to go anywhere but home— her home. And while everyone else is frustrated by her decision, I’m just glad she’s okay and that Roman’s family doesn’t have to face another loss so shortly after losing Val.
Tucking my feet under me, I tip my head back to the sky, which is now a deep purple. It’s beautiful, but my mind is on the conversation I need to have with Roman. Earlier today, Kandi called to check in and confirm that I was still planning on going back to Wyoming to begin the process of packing up my mom's place and that I would be there for the closing.
It wasn’t something I had thought about in days, not with everything that’s been happening. But after that conversation, I was reminded that this life isn’t mine; it’s Roman’s. My life is still in limbo. I have no plans for the future, no job, no anything except Roman, and placing my life in his hands is not something I’m comfortable doing. Especially when I don’t even know what is happening between us. Sure, I know I’m important to him. He makes that obvious every day. But we’ve never talked about us in any long-term capacity.
There are only three things I know for certain right now and those are: I need to close on my mom’s property so I can pay off her bills, I need to finish the journey I started, and I need to figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my life. The last one is the thing that keeps causing my stomach to twist into knots because I don’t know if that life will include Roman.
When I hear the glass door open, I lower my head and watch Roman step outside and walk toward me.
“Did you get everything sorted out for tomorrow?” I ask as he takes a seat next to me
“Yeah.” He rubs his hands down his face before letting his head fall back to the couch and turning my way. “They’re going to meet me at the house in the morning and make sure everything is set up so that the transition is smooth when Diana arrives.” His hand lands on my bare thigh. “I’m going to head over there a little earlier to clear out the dining room since that’s the easiest place for her to be right now.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“If you want.” He drags my feet over his lap. “What did you do today?”
“Laundry—after arguing with Clifford about doing my own because the housekeeper could do it.” That gets me a small smile. “I also started looking at flights.”
“Flights?” His brows drag together, and his hand that had been smoothing up the top of my foot tightens.
“I still have to go back to Wyoming, and with Diana out of the hospital, there isn’t a reason for me to push it off.”
“You can close on the property from here, and in a few weeks, when things settle, we can go to Wyoming together.”
The desire to give him what he wants is difficult to ignore, but giving him what he needs leaves me floating aimlessly.
“What about after those few weeks?”
“We’ll figure it out together when we get to that point.”
“I need to sort my life out.”
“And I get that.”
“But you don’t,” I whisper. “You have your life here—a house, a job, family. I don’t have any of that. What I do have are things left undone. I need to go back and close out that chapter of my past in Wyoming so I can move on and figure out what I’m going to do with my life.”
“Figure out what you’re going to do?”
“Where I’m going to live, what I’m going to do after I finish the journey I started out on.”
“You’ll live here with me unless you tell me you hate the city. If that’s the case, we can find somewhere you like.”
“I’m not going to sponge off?—”
“Have I ever made you feel like you’re sponging off me?”
“No.” I sigh. “And it’s not just that. I mean, I know this is?—”
“I’m in love with you, Elora,” he bites out, and my lips part in surprise. “So, you can have all the time you need to figure out what you want to do with your life, but you’ll do it going to sleep next to me every night.”
“What?”
“What part of that don’t you understand?” he asks, his tone making it clear he’s annoyed and angry.
“That you’re in love with me,” I say softly, and his body deflates while his expression goes soft. Reaching out, his hand wraps around the side of my face, then his fingers slide back into my hair.
“You should have figured that out by now.”
Should I have?
“Since when?”
“Probably since you hugged me on the beach in Oregon, but I realized that I loved you when you were walking toward me with that stack of doughnuts in Vegas.”
“Oh,” I whisper as my nose stings and my throat gets tight.
“I know you’ll need to find yourself and figure out what you want to do with your future, especially after spending so much time taking care of your mom. But I want you to factor me into those plans.”
“Okay.” I swallow as his thumb swipes across my cheek. “I think I love you too.”
“You think?” He smiles.
“I don’t know. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. I know I loved my mom, but that love formed in the quiet before I even knew what love was. I even know I loved Tyler, but that love was grown from acceptance and longevity. What I feel for you is different. It’s consuming and needy while wrapped in trust and understanding. It makes me feel alive and important, maybe even vital.”
“You are,” he whispers, and I cover his hand with mine.
“So maybe I love you, but I don’t think those three words fully express how I feel about you.”
“Come here.” He lets his hand fall from my face and grabs my wrist. With a gentle tug, he pulls me over to straddle his lap, then cups my face in his hands.
“Call Kandi tomorrow and tell her you’ll close from here. In a few weeks, we’ll fly out to Wyoming and spend some time there so you can show me where you grew up.”
“I’d like that.” I melt against his chest.
“Good.” He grabs me under my bottom and stands, still holding on to me. “Did you have dinner?”
“No, I was waiting for you.”
“What do you want to order?”
“I walked down the street to the grocery store this afternoon and got the stuff to make Dijon chicken. I figured I’d cook since I’m kind of over having to eat takeout.”
“I’ll help you.” He carries me into the kitchen, then slides me down his body but keeps hold of my waist.
“You can be my sous chef.”
“What does that entail?”
“Just cutting stuff up.”
“I can do that.” He drops a kiss on my lips before letting me go. Wandering to the fridge, I pull out the stuff for dinner, and then with his help, the two of us make a meal that we eat outside under the same stars that have been with us every step of the way.