Chapter Nineteen
Rowan
Elijah’s back disappears into a corridor of the airport, and I try to breathe through the hot, painful ripping in my chest.
Those hazel eyes seared right into me. As he outwardly ignored my phone call, Elijah watched me pant and panic right in front of him before turning and fleeing deeper into the airport and further away from where I stood.
Intentional, as some torturous form of self-preservation.
I can feel my hands shaking, my knees locking as I stare at the space his body once occupied.
“Sir?” Next to me, an airport security guard questions me. “Are you okay? Do you need assistance?”
I am unsure how long I have been standing here, but there’s no point in loitering. Elijah is gone.
“No, thank you.”
I exit the front entrance, heading toward the lot where I parked my truck earlier this morning after I ran into John outside of the Fort Myers Post, and he told me Elijah was leaving town.
Rowan 7:51 a.m.
When are you coming back?
The message delivers, which means I’ve not been blocked. But I don’t expect him to respond; he hasn’t responded to my previous message or any of the calls I’ve made. He’s been promptly ignoring me since Wednesday night, when I showed up at his apartment and got sent away.
I decided that night that I wouldn’t give up. That I was perfectly fine being the villain of Elijah’s story. But I’m also scared of upsetting him.
Deciding to take things slow, I stuck to messaging him and calling him a few times. I even planned on going by his place on Saturday and begging for forgiveness again.
And now he’s flying away on a plane, and I’m not sure when he’s coming back.
John didn’t give me too much information. The most he would tell me is that Elijah is going home to California. I’m not sure exactly what Elijah told him, either; John was giving me the kind of look you receive after you’ve disappointed your father.
The drive back to my house is long and empty. My thoughts are stuck on the possible outcomes of my situation, and my heart is lying on the epoxy of the airport.
How did it come to this? Am I really destined to repeat this painful separation in every lifetime? Some part of me is becoming desperate to figure out what happened before—to know what happened to Aaron and Benjamin.
But there’s no way to know, not when all I have are vivid memories fed to me through dreams.
I want him to come home. I want him to forgive me and to hold me close. Is that too much to ask? Am I becoming greedy? I’ve spent my entire life comfortable being alone—I’ve never asked the universe for much.
Solitude, peace, and stability. That’s all. But now I want him. All of him. Maybe that, in itself, is an impossible ask.
Marissa is sitting on my couch when I return home, and she looks at me with suffocating pity as I lean against the now closed front door.
Slowly, she sets her phone to the side and stands. “Row? Are you… What’s happened?”
The last that Marissa heard, I was heading into town to see if I could watch Elijah heading into work. She didn’t judge, just gave me a sad smile and nodded gently.
“He left,” I say, and my voice sounds far away. Vacant.
“Left?” she questions, and I let my eyes fall to the hardwood.
“He got on a plane.”
“What?!”
I can hear her footsteps growing closer, but I don’t bother to look up.
“I ran into his boss, who said he was flying to California, so I went to the airport. He saw me but walked away.”
Marissa fumbles her words. “W-well when is h-he coming back?” She sounds panicked.
“I don’t know.”
“Is he moving there? Is he done with Fort Myers?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why didn’t he stop to talk to you? Why did he just walk away?”
“I don’t know!” I shout, finally meeting her eyes. “He won’t answer my calls or texts, so I know nothing. Just that he flew home.”
“I…” Tears begin to well up in Marissa’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, Rowan. It’s all my fault. I… fuck, I’m the worst.”
“No,” I sigh, pulling her into my chest. “It’s not your fault. He would have snapped eventually. I was being too secretive, too reclusive.”
“B-but I made things worse by opening the door and—”
“Marissa,” I interrupt, and she pulls back enough to look me in the eyes. “I think I’m supposed to be the one crying. Not you.”
After a moment, Marissa begins to laugh. It’s a hysterical, emotional type of laughter that only seems to feed the frenzy of our frayed emotions.
“You’re right.” Dragging me by the hand, my best friend finds her way back to her spot on my couch, pulling me down to lean against her.
I allow myself to curl up against her side, soaking in the warmth of her body and the comfort of her hand patting my head.
“What will you do now?” she asks, and I shrug as best I can from this position.
“Nothing, I suppose. I don’t want to intrude on time with his family, so I’ll leave him be for now.” After a moment, I sit up and give her a determined frown. “But once he’s back, I’ll fight again. Grovel, cry, beg. Whatever needs to be done.”
Marissa nods. “Maybe you should tell him. You know, that you’re soulmates or whatever. That would probably help.”
I scoff, allowing myself to flop back down against her. “Yeah, it’ll help him run the other way. I’m most definitely not hitting him with the soulmate card before he forgives me for barring him from my home and having a woman here in secret.”
“It wasn’t in secret,” Marissa defends. “I’m not a side piece.”
“Trust me, I know.” I laugh as she smacks my chest. “But you know what I mean. To him, it feels that way—and I can’t blame him. I’d be thinking the same thing.”
“But you said he believed you. That he said he understood we weren’t fooling around.”
“Yes, but understanding it and feeling it are two different things. Elijah probably feels betrayed or scared. He once told me that he’s never been a very emotional guy, so this is all very new to him, I think.”
“Ah,” Marissa nods. “A relationship virgin. Got it.”
“Jesus,” I mutter.
“Let’s go get brunch,” Marissa says suddenly, and I sit up.
“What?”
She shrugs. “Look, there’s nothing you can do right now. And we’re not about to sit here and cry all morning."
“You’re the one crying, not me,” I insist, and she just rolls her eyes.
“What places are there to eat at in town?”
I debate for a moment, doing my best to catalog each restaurant and fast-food joint by food type. “For brunch? We only have a few, but the most popular is Tabitha’s Place.”
“Great! Let’s go.” Marissa jumps up, moving past me to her suitcase, where she begins to rummage through her clothes.
“But Bennett works there,” I argue, and Marissa shoots me a confused look.
“So? Who’s that?”
“Some guy I went to high school with, who I think is obsessed with Elijah.” I do my best not to glare as I speak.
Slowly, Marissa rises back to her full height. Then she turns and gives me a wicked grin. “Perfect. We can gauge his reactions and bring Eli up. Test him a bit.”
“Rissa, no,” I immediately decline, leaning back on the couch. “I’m not going into town and eating at his diner for the first time, only to act like a child.”
“The first time?!” She screeches.
I shrug. “I’m not a big socializer. I normally do take out.”
“We. Are. Going. Jesus, you antisocial fuck.”
That’s how I end up walking into Tabitha’s Place with Marissa on my arm.
It’s 11 a.m. on a Friday, so it’s mostly dead, and we take the booth I’ve seen Elijah occupy several times now.
The smell of eggs and bacon wafts through the air as we look over the laminated menus, and Marissa chats away about the old-school beauty of Fort Myers and how I need to get out more.
“I’m going to go deaf with all of this nagging,” I complain, and Marissa somehow manages to look extremely demure as she flips me off.
“Oh shit, is that him?” she suddenly asks.
I follow her green eyes to where they rest on Bennett as he refills an elderly man’s coffee cup. From here, the man appears to be Mr. Grames, the cemetery caretaker.
I make a small confirming noise in the back of my throat.
“Damn, he’s hot. He’s got that buff, boy-next-door thing going for him.”
“Marissa,” I groan, running a hand through my hair.
Suddenly, I feel a bit underdressed in my black t-shirt and jeans. Not that I’ve ever dressed nicely to head into town before.
“Shit, he’s coming this way.” Marissa suddenly goes quiet, her eyes narrowing in on her menu.
A moment or two later, a large shadow envelops the table. Bennett is handsome, truth be told. And he’s damn near as big as me, which is a feat of its own.
“Morning, what can I get you to drink?” His friendly voice cuts through my thoughts, and I look up from my menu to find him smiling brightly at Marissa.
She blushes, returning his smile with one of her own.
“A coffee with cream and sugar, please,” she replies, and he begins to write in his little notepad. I notice that he’s not wearing his baseball cap today.
When Bennett’s eyes turn to me, they’re not quite as warm. In fact, he doesn’t even bother to smile. I suddenly remember how much I disliked him in high school.
“And for you?”
“Water for me, thanks,” I say.
Bennett nods and turns on his heel, making his way to the drink station.
“Uh,” Marissa looks between the two of us as he walks away. “Does he hate you or something?”
“Well, in high school he was super popular, and I was… well, I was a loner. You remember me telling you that back then, right?” I ask, and she nods.
“He didn’t care for me much. Was never straight up mean, but just petty enough to be an asshole.
Plus, Elijah blew off his dad to hang out with me once, so I’m sure he hates me for that as well. ”
Marissa whistles lowly. “Sheesh, Row. You’ve made yourself an enemy. A hot one.”
“I get it!”
She laughs, and I can’t help but shake my head at her antics.
“Just keep in mind,” she adds as she plays with her menu. “Elijah fucked you, not him. So you’re winning either way. Don’t let him get to you.”
“I’m not letting anyone—”