13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
Elijah
One day without hearing from Will became two days, and two days became three, then four. Even the most festive of fall decorations couldn't drag my mood from the gutter as I trudged into Snacks-and-Sips on day five of no contact. I knew enough to not take it personally, or at least my logic processing knew it wasn't personal. I'd heard from his friend Josh with daily updates and Cam’s mom, the owner of the cafe, fed me enough gossip and caramel lattes to satiate my worried mind. Regardless, not hearing from Will directly weighed on me more than I wanted to admit.
I'd considered heading to the hospital myself, but Josh suggested I wait. He was careful with what details he divulged, but I could read between the lines—apparently the situation with Will’s father's deteriorated cognitive function was a rough one and neither of us thought Will would want an audience for the nightmare he was living. Still, my heart ached to reach out to him and help in any way I could. Unfortunately, my only recourse was a daily text reminder that I was thinking of him.
“Good morning, dear.” Mary leaned over the counter and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “The usual?”
“Please, and thank you.” I returned the maternal affection with a weary smile. I'd just gotten similar TLC from my own mom, but I would take all the comfort I could. Will’s terrible situation wasn't the only burden weighing me down.
“Are you excited about the Back to School Barbecue?” Mary raised her voice to be heard over the noise of the espresso machine as she created a sugar-laden balm for my bruised ego and battered mind.
“Not even a little bit.” I leaned forward to fold my arms on the counter with a sigh. “Maybe I'm not cut out for politics.”
“Pssh, stop that right now,” Mary scolded with narrowed eyes. “Are you honestly letting that man get under your skin?”
My nose wrinkled but I refused to acknowledge how true her accusatory question was. Brixton was absolutely getting under my skin. In a matter of days, he'd managed to cover ten times the ground I had. The local newspaper had reported a preliminary poll the day before and the numbers weren't in my favor. To make matters worse, rumors around town claimed he'd rented boatloads of entertainment for the annual Labor Day weekend Back to School party. I suspected the funds for it came from a number of endorsements from local businesses close to his preacher father.
“He’s going to buy up all the support and what he doesn't buy, his father’s reputation will secure for him.”
My latte appeared under my nose and I lifted my eyes to meet her gaze as she spoke. “Keep your chin up. Money can only buy so much, and you’ve done a phenomenal job gaining support already. Have faith, love.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Whyte.” I flashed my best attempt at a smile and gathered the drink.
“When are you going to quit with that Mrs. Whyte nonsense? You dating one of my son’s best friends. That practically makes you family. The least you could do is call me by my given name.”
I rolled my eyes and chuckled. Evidently my newly changed relationship status was another thing gaining momentum in the local gossip mill. “Yes, dear. Mary it is.”
In lieu of sitting at the usual table and ruminating on thoughts I had already spun in circles in my head, I opted to take a stroll through town in the hope that it would help clear my mind. The weather was more autumn than late summer, but it was warm enough to enjoy without needing extra layers. That wouldn't be the case for long. Signs for the upcoming Labor Day weekend festivities cluttered the streets and shop windows in every direction. Where I had once felt excitement, I only mustered a sense of defeated dread.
Clouds developed insidiously as I walked in slow motion along the slate sidewalks. It felt telling that dreary weather would arrive in tune with my increasingly low mood, as if the world itself was in agreement with my malaise. Although I shared pleasantries and smiles with the townsfolk I passed on the street, it all felt surface level, like a mask I was using to shield my true anxiety from the people around me. By the time I made it down one side of the road and crossed to work my way back, I had myself well and truly convinced that my chances of succeeding were nonexistent.
No longer interested in window shopping or making small talk, I pulled my phone out and opened up the latest job offerings that would work with my degree. My plan to run for the town supervisor role was an impulsive one. The least I could do was actually prepare for the most likely worst case scenario. As I scrolled through the listings with a heavy heart, my awareness of my surroundings suffered, so it came as a genuinely earth- shattering shock when I ran headlong into one of my friends with none other than Brixton himself on her arm.
“I'm so sorry—Ashley?” I steadied her shoulder on impulse and froze in place as I registered the sight before me. A quick glance to my right revealed her salon, and a glimpse toward Brixton told me he hadn't been visiting for a touch up on his stupidly perfect golden blond hair. Their closeness and his smug smile confirmed my suspicions.
“Elijah… it’s not… well, it is… I was going to tell you.” Ashley searched my face with a devastating expression of apprehension and concern.
I glanced between them and scrambled together as much dignity and confidence as I could. I failed. “You and Brixton ?”
“I promise, I was going to tell you—”
“You and the Sheriff?” Brixton interrupted with a sardonic grin. “I could have sworn he was rather emphatic about his heterosexuality back in high school.”
My anger flared despite me telling myself I needed to keep my cool and rise above the bullshit. “We aren't discussing that right now, Brixton.”
“And why's that—”
“Brix, please?” Ashley squeezed his arm as her voice became strained. “It's not our business.”
“Just as our relationship is not his.” Brixton made a show out of bending down to kiss the top of her head. “Shall we be off?”
Biting my tongue, I sidestepped and gave Ashley one last glance.
“Elijah, please don't be angry.” She batted her lashes. I'd have laughed if I weren't so utterly flabbergasted.
“I'm not mad, Ash.” More like betrayed, but I wasn't about to mince words with her on Main Street under Brixton’s smug scrutiny. “Call me, we’ll talk. And… congrats.”
The last part was hard to get out of my mouth, but I was determined to be the bigger man. One of my close friends was quite literally sleeping with the enemy. I honestly couldn't even fathom it, even as I stayed behind and watched them disappear down the street. I huffed and shook my head before glancing down at the phone in my hand. Maybe finding a job elsewhere wasn't such a bad idea after all. My back up plan was looking more and more like a concrete plan by the second as I opened the device and resumed searching the available listings.
I hadn't seen or heard from my barely-a-boyfriend in days. My opponent for the elected role I wanted was stealing not only my endorsements and supporters, but evidently my friends as well. The final kick in the teeth was the fact that Brixton remembered and reminded me about the humiliating denial that had ruined my friendship with Will in the first place. In perfectly imperfect timing, my phone vibrated with a text just as the first droplet of chilly rain hit the screen.
Will: Are you going to be home tonight?
I blinked, wiped the rain from the screen, and blinked again. No hello. No apology for going dark for days. Not a single answer to any of my texts or calls. Just one simple question that felt altogether too loaded. I couldn't even figure out how I wanted to respond, let alone formulate said response amid the cacophonous clamor of my thoughts. With a beleaguered sigh, I pocketed the phone and began the long walk back to my car. In the rain. Because of course.
Hours later, curled up on my couch with self-pity Ben and Jerry’s and a White Claw, a knock on my door startled me from my wallowing. I pressed pause on my comfort-rewatch of Designated Survivor and unfurled myself from the mountain of blankets I'd buried myself in before trudging to the door to peer through the window at the top. Much to my surprise, a six-foot tall, rain-soaked Will-shaped form came into view, barely illuminated by the little light overhead.
“Jesus,” I muttered under my breath before whipping the door open. “Get in here, you fool.”
“Hey—oh… thanks.” Will expelled a soft chuckle as I dragged him over the threshold.
“How long were you standing out there?” I hurried down the hall and returned with an armful of towels from the linen closet.
“I don't know. Maybe… twenty minutes.” His head ducked down and his shoulders sagged. “I'm sorry.”
“Shh, no.” I looped one of the towels around his shoulders and tugged it tight. “Why didn't you knock?”
“Because I messed up and didn't know how to fix it.” His dejected expression cut through all my jumbled doubts and pierced straight into my heart.
“You've had a lot on your mind. It's okay. You're here now.” I stepped into his space and coiled my arms around his waist, drenched garments be damned. The poor man clearly needed a hug and I was more than happy to provide it. Especially considering I really needed one, too. He melted into me with a serene sigh.
“I'm sorry. I just didn't know what to say.”
I pressed my cheek to his, our stubble rasping together as I nuzzled his face. “We don't have to say anything at all. I'm here.”
His arms tightened around me almost to the point of too much, a shiver detectable in his tightly-wound muscles. I suspected it had nothing to do with being chilled and everything to do with the emotions clearly displayed in his features.
“Thank you,” Will choked out with a gasp before burying his face against my shoulder. For as much as we needed to talk, I knew this wasn't the time. I might have been wallowing in self-pity and doubt and defeat, but in comparison, Will was a man barely hanging on to the edge. My heart broke for him. So much so, it was easy to put aside my own trivial fears and concentrate on his clearly troubled state.
“Come on. You need a warm bed and probably eighteen hours of sleep judging by the bags under your eyes.” I gently pulled away and cupped his chin. “We’re okay. Right now, everything's okay. Stay with me tonight.”
“I put my Dad into a nursing home today,” he blurted out with a rough edge to his voice. The pain radiating from his eyes was enough to stop my heart beating. “He remembered who I was long enough to tell me to never come back.”
“Oh, God. Will…” I pulled his head back to my shoulder and held him close. “I'm so sorry.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Never had Will, the strong protector with the sunshine smile, seemed so weak and small and uncertain. It was all I could do to not break down crying for him. I tried to imagine what it would be like to be in his place, but just the thought of it alone was enough to leave my gut hollow and my heart aching.
“Come to bed, babe. We’ll figure it all out in the morning.” I gently urged him to follow me, never loosening my embrace as he shuffled forward at my insistence. Navigating backwards through the house, I guided us into my bedroom and disentangled our bodies until I could carefully peel the wet clothes from his frame. He made absolutely zero effort to help, moving only when I positioned him to raise his arms or lift his legs. With a vacant expression and robotic movements, he climbed into my bed and pulled me close as soon as I was undressed and crawling in beside him. His eyes were closed before my head landed on his chest.
Unable to fall asleep as easily as his exhaustion allowed him to, I sighed at the irony—I got my wish to have him with me through the night, but the somber heaviness of the moment was not how I had envisioned spending our first night together. The steady thump of his beating heart eventually lulled me to sleep, but the hollowness of my chest remained. I had everything I had longed for, so why did I feel so alone?