Chapter Twenty-Five
Elijah
Iam alone. I’ve spent an entire day and an entire night surrounded by my own sorrow and this burning, hot ache in my chest.
The only company I’ve allowed for is the singular call where I informed John I would not be coming back into the office yesterday, and my own shadow as it swallows me whole.
I have nothing left. Right as everything in my life seemed to fit together seamlessly, it all fell apart. In one instant, my happiness was torn from my trembling hands.
I am falling apart; I am a feather just now reaching the concrete—a slow, torturous fall. A soft crash. And it’s miserable.
That radar inside of me that is supposed to read others and make me inclined to trust or to distrust—I think it is broken. I think I may be broken.
I really thought Rowan was different. Taking the overwhelming emotion I felt, I bet on him and our time together with everything I had.
I should have trusted my instincts. I should have fucking run the moment I spent an entire night sobbing in his bed. But instead, I lowered my defenses and let him completely inside.
And now, as I stare at my reflection that is tainted by his attempt to claim me, I realize he got exactly what he wanted. I can no longer see myself without thinking of him.
Rowan lives in my skin—the very sight of my blood is a tribute to him and our time together.
How am I meant to live with this? How am I meant to take this mark and carry on, to not crumble to pieces every time I lay my eyes upon it? Maybe that was the purpose. Maybe it had nothing to do with love and everything to do with strategically planned psychological warfare.
This bullshit about being in love in the past, and him dreaming of me, is cruel and twisted. A new brand of torture that I’m unfamiliar with.
I wish we’d never met. I wish this heart of mine had never started beating.
Yet even through all of this pain and regret, I find myself craving him. I yearn for him the same way I yearned for him while he was inside of me, while I waited for his next message, or as he drove away from my house in the morning.
And it’s sick and twisted and so cruel to myself, but I cannot stop.
Rowan was right about one thing: my body is programmed to miss his. And whether that was an intentional, tactical move on his end or the natural progression of my attraction toward him, I am very certain it has nothing to do with fate or a previous love.
That would be impossible; that would be insane. Unfortunately for him, I am not the type of man who believes in fairytales.
And because of that, I take my anxiety medicine for the first time in weeks—then I drag myself out of bed the morning after my entire life seems to fall apart, and I go to work.
I avoid any questions I get from John, and I keep my phone shut off. Terrified of what notification might pop up, I can’t bear to look. I’m not expecting to hear from anyone important anyway, and I can’t very well call my family about this.
Not only is it extremely embarrassing, but there is still some small, secret part of me that is hoping I’ll wake up from this nightmare and Rowan won’t be a creep.
If I do, and I’ve already told my sisters about what he’s done, they’ll never forgive him. They’ll never approve.
No—instead I will wait. For what, I do not know. But I can barely breathe through this pain, let alone think through it, so I’m doing the literal best that I can.
I just need to stay focused on my own survival. I need to work and drown myself in TV, books, and other people. That way, I can slowly forget about the man who marked my skin and changed my perspective on life.
And once I do, I can feel normal again. This ache can fade, and the feeling of falling from this impossible height can finally settle.
I find myself missing the in-between—the time when Rowan and I were so pleasantly aligned, and I never felt anxious, I always felt safe.
Before it all crashed and burned, but after I realized there was more to life than popping pills and glaring at strangers.
But I can’t spend forever dwelling, and if I intend on moving past this hiccup, I need to move forward.
Work has ended, and I rush out of the office before John can catch me. He’s left me alone for the majority of the day due to our workload, but I fear that if I stay any longer, he’ll try to make some kind of conversation, and that conversation will lead back to Rowan.
I’m starving and slightly shaking. Whether it’s from my new burst of anxiety or lack of nutrition, I do not know, but I head to Tabitha’s Place for dinner either way.
I know Bennett will be there, and he’ll most likely ask questions, but I really don’t want to cook, and it’s right across the street.
My eyes track Bennett’s movements as soon as I enter, so I duck my head and find the closest empty table in an attempt to prolong my peace. I’ve never snuck into this diner before, and suddenly I feel like a teenager planning to dine and dash.
My quiet maneuvers keep me hidden for all of two minutes before Kandi approaches and very loudly announces my presence.
“Oh, hey Eli! Is it finally my turn to wait on our diner’s notorious cutie without Ben coming in to steal you?” She giggles, and I grimace as I try to smile.
“Sure, Kandi. I’ll take a Coke, thanks.”
“You got it!” She scurries away, and once her slender frame is no longer blocking my view of the rest of the restaurant, I spot Bennett watching me from the drink station.
Fucking great.
But something in my expression or the way I’m carrying myself must tell him I’m not in the mood for joking around, because he waits to approach me until I’m almost completely done with my chicken salad sandwich and fries.
And when he does, it’s with a grim expression and hesitant movements. He slowly lowers himself into the chair opposite me, and the pity in his eyes tells me that he’s already decided what’s bothering me.
“You okay, Eli?” he asks, and his voice is so gentle and patient that I find myself crumbling just the tiniest bit at his words.
Some part of me wants to confide in him. Some part of me wants to sob right here and tell him every horrible thing that has happened in the past twenty-four hours. But somehow that feels like a great betrayal to Rowan, and even now I don’t really want to hurt him.
“I’m fine,” I say instead. Bennett nods, but his blue eyes tell me that he knows anyway.
“I take it that yesterday was hard? John said you never came back to work.”
Fucking John, you loudmouth! I watch Bennett’s sympathetic expression as I try to form my response, and I guess I can’t really feign complete ignorance here.
“Yeah, it was rough. But I’m okay now.” That’s all I will give him.
Bennett clears his throat and replaces his slight frown with a bright smile, one that makes me feel a bit warmer than I did a moment ago. “I think you need a distraction; I think you deserve some fun.”
“Some fun?” I parrot, and Bennett only smiles wider.
“Yes. The fall festival is kicking off this Friday. Would you like to go with me?”
Oh, right. I had completely forgotten about the fall festival coming up. The whole town of Fort Myers is excited about it—outside of Rowan—and they’ve already started selling tickets.
But going with Bennett? Especially so soon after things crashed and burned with Rowan? I don’t know… it feels awkward and maybe a bit wrong in some ways.
“Letting him get to you? What did he say? Don’t let him drive a wedge between us, Eli.”
Rowan clearly does not like Bennett, and I fear that if he would consider me seeing another man a betrayal, he would consider me seeing Bennett Hendrick straight-up deception.
But why would that matter to me? I’m not the one who was stalking him or comparing the feel of his body to another man.
I wasn’t placing him in my detailed fantasies or continuously lying to him. I’m not the creep who ruined everything.
At this thought, I feel guilt, and that in itself makes me angry.
“As like, a date?” I clarify.
Bennett chuckles. “Yeah, Eli, like a date. You couldn’t have been oblivious to my flirting this whole time. I’m very obvious.”
That much is true. He has always been upfront with his wanting me, and I was pretty quick to return the banter in the beginning. And Bennett is beautiful.
He may not be Rowan-level attractive, but he’s definitely up there.
I deserve this, right? I’m not betraying anyone, and I’m certainly not deceiving Rowan when I’ve told him I’m done with him. Plus, wasn’t I just saying I need to move on?
I’m pretty sure it was some famous pop star who said the fastest way to get over someone is to get under someone else.
Or maybe it was one of my sisters, I’m not sure.
“Okay,” I decide. “Sure. I’ll meet you at the entrance on Friday, then. What time?”
Bennett beams at me, leaning forward in his seat. “Does 4:30 p.m. sound okay?”
“Yeah, sounds great.” An awkward silence falls over us, so I clear my throat. “Mind getting Kandi so I can pay? I want to go home and sleep this day away.”
Bennett nods enthusiastically, patting my shoulder as he moves away to find my waitress.
“Of course. See you soon, Eli.”
I spend the next few days doing my best to forget about Rowan and avoiding any questions from John or Bennett whenever I see them. Both are curious, but I refuse to answer directly.
I can’t—not while I’m this torn up.
Any time I’m alone, I recall the way he smells or the sound of his breathing.
When I lie in bed, I see him there, peacefully sleeping next to me.
I spend a ridiculous amount of time jacking off in the shower to memories of him touching me and crying into mugs of hot chocolate as I try to dispel this ache that lives and breathes inside of me.
All that to say, I’m still fucking miserable. I’m not sure how fast time is supposed to work its magic, but it has yet to heal all. Or any, really. I feel just as fucked up as I did on Monday when I ran from his house.