Chapter 45
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to have you back,” Raya said as I wiped down the counters in the kitchen after a slow Friday night. “But you’ve been mopey all week.”
“Do you know how many places in my apartment we had sex?” I scrubbed at a spot of barbecue sauce on the edge of the stove.
“Um … no? And I’m scared you’re about to tell me.”
“Pretty much all of them. Every single place. My bedroom, the couch, the shower. Everywhere except the kitchen. I can’t go anywhere in my apartment without thinking about him.
He’s so lucky we never did it in his apartment!
” I raised the rag in the air to emphasize my point.
“Oh, and the wall. I can’t even look at the wall he pushed me up against.”
“Don’t forget the office,” Raya said in an even voice.
“How could I forget the office? See, I can’t come to work either. Sex is everywhere I look.”
“I really don’t want to hear this,” Raya said.
“You think I want to hear this? See it in my head?”
“No?” she guessed.
“I shouldn’t be thinking about it at all. I need to be here, figuring out how to get that asshole of a reviewer to make another viral review that hopefully will be glowing this time.” Because business was struggling. I’d gone over the books when I got back, and we were barely breaking even.
“But we can’t have him back until we do something cool.”
“Exactly! But my brain won’t even let me think of something cool because it’s too busy thinking of…”
“Awesome sex?” she guessed.
I let out an ironic laugh. “Yes … and the fact that he has this big tournament tomorrow where he’s going to miserably fill out score sheets and manually add numbers.
I told him I’d help. I thought maybe after the tournament he’d talk to his dad.
Tell him he was unhappy there. But maybe he only said he was unhappy there to make me happy. ”
“Why would that make you happy?” she asked.
“Because if he didn’t like his job, then he would have an excuse to leave Clovis.
He could come here. But coming here was never his plan.
And even if it was, he still had to climb out of the hole, pay his dad back.
He was never going to leave until he did that.
And I just ran away. Left him there. Shit, Raya, I ran away. ”
“You did.”
“Maybe I should go back?” I said. “At least to talk to him face-to-face. Help him with this tournament. Do you think he’d want me there? Do you think he’d take me back? I don’t deserve to be taken back.”
“Sutton,” Raya chastised. “It’s been a couple weeks since your fight, not fifteen years. You didn’t abandon him. You were scared and you left. Now you’re seeing you were wrong.”
“I was wrong.”
“Then go get your man.”
“I’m still scared.”
“I know. Do it anyway.”
The gym was full. Fuller than I’d ever seen it. Tables were set up and people were checking in. On the walls, schedules were posted. I’d left my house at four AM to make it for the eight o’clock start time. I’d made it with fifteen minutes to spare.
Right away I saw Michael in the boxing ring, talking to some fighters. Elijah’s dad was walking the perimeter, directing people. But I didn’t see Elijah anywhere.
It was loud, with both music being piped through speakers and voices and people warming up on punching bags along the wall.
I headed for the back office, but he wasn’t there either.
The window was dark and the door was locked.
I turned away from the door just in time to see Michael ducking through the ropes of the ring and hopping to the floor.
His expression immediately went dark upon seeing me. “What are you doing here?”
“Where is Elijah?”
He shrugged. “Sent a text that he wasn’t coming.”
I blinked in surprise. “Wasn’t coming? Is he okay? Hurt? Did he say why?”
“No, he didn’t and why would I tell you if he did?”
I wanted to shake him but instead just clenched my fists. “Your anger is misplaced, Michael. You should be looking in the mirror.”
“Whatever,” he said, and brushed by me, heading for the front tables.
“And you should have to shave your head,” I mumbled to his back.
Elijah wasn’t here. Did that mean he talked to his dad? Told him he didn’t want to do this? And if he had, then what? Where would he go instead?
Speaking of his dad, he gave me a double take. “Have you spoken to Elijah?” he asked.
I shook my head.
He grumbled under his breath something that sounded like, What am I going to do with him? Then he kept walking.
People were moving and talking and laughing and punching all around me, and I just stood there, not sure what to do next.
I hadn’t thought beyond this moment. I was going to come and talk to Elijah.
I was going to help with the tournament.
Show him the app I had found for events like these.
I was supposed to help, to be here for him.
Prove that I was sorry through my actions.
But how could I be here for him when he wasn’t even here?
I knew how much he loved his family and his brother, even if his brother didn’t deserve it half the time.
I could still help. I wasn’t about to take over with my unwanted app ideas though.
Especially because it looked like they had everything under control.
But I could check people in or hand out wraps.
So I did. I stayed there all day, being extra hands wherever I was needed.
I even went on an ice run once. But Elijah never showed up, even though I’d been secretly hoping all day that he would.
The tournament ended at seven, and I left without saying goodbye to anyone.
I drove to Elijah’s house and stood on his dark porch for several minutes.
The inside showed no signs of life either, but finally I knocked.
I wasn’t surprised when nobody answered, and yet I stayed for five more minutes, just in case.
I released a breath of air and sank down, sitting on the porch steps. Then I pulled out my phone and texted Tara.
Can I crash at your place tonight?
You’re in town?!
Yes.
But you’re not crashing at Elijah’s? I’m sorry. Yes, come over. She’d obviously put two and two together and figured out I’d come running back for him. And that it hadn’t gone well.
She pulled me into a tight hug when I got to her apartment. “Tell me everything.”
So I did. We sat on her oversized couch with throw blankets and glasses of wine, and I told her about my week and my decision to drive here and about Elijah being MIA. It was nice to be more open with my friends. I finished with, “Where do you think he is?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe he took his camera to the mountains or the beach. He does that sometimes.”
To feel the earth under his feet, my mind said, thinking about Dr. Franklin’s prompt.
“He does?” I didn’t know why I asked. His pictures were proof that he did that sometimes. I just didn’t know that he still did that. That he’d done that recently.
As if reading my mind, she said, “Not so much recently. But before he got busy with the gym, before you came into town, he would.”
It made sense. That’s probably exactly where he was. But how long would he need to commune with nature? Would nature tell him that we were supposed to be together? When would he be back?
“Are you irritated?” I asked.
“Irritated?”
“That I’m trying to make up with Elijah? Despite what he did to you.”
She blew air out of her nose. “He didn’t do anything to me. Michael did. Elijah was only ever trying to help. You are definitely picking the better brother.”
I set my glass of wine, still half full, onto the end table and pulled one knee to my chest. “I might be picking him, but I’m not sure he’ll pick me back. I don’t know that he wants anything to do with me.”
“I’ve never seen him like anyone as much as he liked you. The way he looked at you, the way he held your hand, or touched your back. He’ll pick you, Sutton. I know it.”
“I hope you’re right.”