Chapter 46
I should text him. Tell him I am here. For him. Maybe he’d come back. For me.
These thoughts circled my brain as I lay on Tara’s couch later that night.
Much like my apartment, hers was only a one-bedroom.
She’d brought me sheets and blankets and a pillow when I’d insisted I sleep on the couch instead of sharing her bed like she’d offered.
I knew I’d toss and turn tonight. She had to work in the morning. I wanted her to get sleep.
I lowered my phone without sending a message.
Texting seemed so anticlimactic. How could I dramatically announce my presence if I texted him a warning first?
But if he didn’t know I was here, I wouldn’t be able to announce my presence at all.
Things didn’t always go exactly like I planned or imagined them, and I was learning to be okay with that.
I huffed out some air and raised my phone again, trying to think of the perfect text. It could not involve the word tongue, I knew that much.
Elijah … I’m here. You’re not. If you’ll hear me out, I have things to say. But I’d love to do it in person. Are you coming home anytime soon?
I read the text at least ten times before I let myself hit send.
When I finally did, my heart began beating a million miles per minute.
Then I bit my lip and waited. Last time I’d sent him a late-night text, he responded almost immediately.
This time there were no little blinking dots indicating he was writing back.
There was only silence. And it stayed that way for however long it took me to accept that he wasn’t writing me back, at least not tonight.
I rolled onto my side, set my phone on the carpet, and tried to sleep.
“Sorry, sorry,” Tara whispered as something in the adjoining kitchen clattered on the counter.
I cracked my eyes open. She stood, fitting a lid onto her travel coffee cup. “It’s okay,” I croaked. “Are you heading to work?” She wore her scrubs, and her purse was already strapped across her body. I sat up, adjusting the T-shirt I wore and running my fingers through my hair.
“I am, but you can stay as long as you need. I’ll leave you a key here, and if you’ll just put it in the plant outside my door when you leave … or maybe you’re staying longer? You’re welcome to stay as long as you want,” she rambled this out in one continuous stream of thought.
“No, I’m leaving. Probably. I need to if…” My eyes drifted down to my phone on the floor. It sat face up and no notifications were waiting for me. “Yeah, I’m leaving,” I finished through a tight throat.
“I’m sorry,” she said, scrunching her nose in sympathy.
“No, it’s fine. Grand gestures are kind of pointless when the other person isn’t around to see them.”
“You going to see your mom while you’re here?”
I thought about that question. “I don’t think so. I’m already in a terrible mood.”
She laughed.
I’d set a boundary with my mom, and I wasn’t going to feel guilty about it. I’d talked to her once this week, and she told me all about how happy she was to be back at work. I was glad for her. She had sounded happier.
After Tara left, I got up and brushed my teeth and got dressed.
Then I cleaned Tara’s kitchen. It was already pretty clean, but I scrubbed out the microwave and wiped down the fronts of all the appliances.
I was lingering. Waiting for a response to my text.
It took way too long for me to admit I wasn’t getting one.
The Los Angeles traffic seemed insufferable at the end of my already-long drive. How did people live with this many humans and cars around them? How did I? I was suddenly dreaming of long stretches of empty roads bordered by orchids as far as the eye could see.
My phone rang through the car speakers, too loud, making me jump. I answered it with a tap on my steering wheel. “Raya, hi. Is everything okay?”
“No,” she said. “Where are you?”
“I’m about twenty minutes from you.”
“You’re almost home?” she asked. “I thought you would still be in Clovis.”
“Nope,” I said, popping the p on the word.
“Oh,” she said, her voice indicating she knew what that meant. “That sucks.”
“It’s…” I almost said it was okay. But I couldn’t. “Yeah, it does,” I finished with instead.
“Would you hate me if I sent you on some work errands? We’re busier than normal tonight and completely out of potatoes. Can you grab some at the store?”
“Seriously? We can’t seem to get the quantity right on those.”
“I know.”
“Yes, of course I’ll grab some. I’ll be there in thirty.”
“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.”
While I was at the store, she texted me several more things they needed, and I ended up taking longer than I anticipated.
It was close to eight o’clock by the time I got there, and the windows looked dark as I walked up.
Did the potato shortage force them to close early?
I couldn’t imagine that would be the case, but my mind wasn’t supplying any other explanation for what my eyes were seeing.
I pulled out my keys, expecting the door to be locked, but when I turned the key in the lock, it met zero resistance.
I opened the door. The lights suddenly flipped on, and a restaurant full of people yelled, “Surprise!”
The tables had been moved into a big line in the center of the room, the chairs missing, most likely stacked out back to provide more floor space. I recognized some of the people in the room, but most I didn’t.
Raya walked forward.
“Our one-year anniversary celebration?” I asked, remembering this was what she wanted to do to commemorate it.
But then I noticed something—painted branches climbing up the walls and onto the now sky-blue ceiling.
And leaves. But the leaves weren’t painted.
They seemed three-dimensional. Photographs.
They were pictures forming the shape of leaves.
As my eyes followed the branches, looking for a trunk, I saw that they all led to the back patio door.
“Good surprise or bad surprise?” Raya asked, hooking her arm into mine. “I would normally run big decisions like this by you but … do you like it?”
I nodded, slowly realizing what this meant. “It’s amazing.”
I walked toward the back door, wanting to see the rest of the design.
Knowing there was more. I was right. The ceiling of the covered patio was dark, like a night sky dotted with lights that made it seem like stars were shining through.
And the painted branches continued all the way to the actual tree in the center.
Hanging from that tree were more photos.
But these photos were of people, customers sitting at our tables, enjoying our food.
A centerpiece that would draw people to it.
A water feature now bubbled to the right of the tree.
And down the walls of the restaurant were more photos that looked like leaves.
“I was here two days ago … how?” I asked.
“It’s impressive, right?” Raya said.
“Where is he?” Everything in me needed to know this. I wanted to be in his arms, against his skin, in his life. I hoped this meant I could do all three of these things. I hoped this was some grand gesture and not some guilt-induced goodbye.
“Now this is something to brag about,” a man stepped in front of me whom I immediately recognized as the viral reviewer of the restaurant.
“Oh, right,” Raya said. “I invited Samuel back.”
“I’m glad she did,” he said.
My brain was slow, taking moments to process everything, still searching out the patio for Elijah. But I had enough sense to put my hand out. “Thank you for coming. For giving us another chance.”
“Second chances are my favorite,” he said.
“I hope they’re about to be mine too,” I said.
“Please excuse me.” I rushed back toward the door leading inside when I realized that Elijah was there, standing in front of it.
He had an uncertain look on his face. I came to a halt five feet before reaching him, also uncertain.
Not about how I felt but about why he had done all this.
“Hi,” I said. “You’re here.”
“I’m here.”
“This is amazing. I can’t believe you did this in two days.”
“I had a lot of help. You like it?”
“I love it.”
His shoulders relaxed, dropping a couple inches. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer your text. I was trying to surprise you, and it’s not as impactful if I tell you over text.”
“How did you know I wouldn’t be here?”
“I didn’t know you wouldn’t be here. I just showed up. But then when you weren’t here, I thought bigger.”
“It’s … beautiful. Thank you.” All around us people were chatting and laughing and looking at the pictures.
Inside, through the window, I saw Presley refilling trays of finger food.
Behind me, Raya was still chatting with the reviewer.
Over Elijah’s right shoulder there were more leaves made out of photos.
“Did you take all these pictures … recently?”
“Some,” he said. “But I borrowed a lot from my childhood bedroom as well.”
“You did? Your mom hates me,” I said. She loved that setup. Had left it up for all these years.
“She doesn’t. She really likes you,” Elijah said, then he sighed. “I didn’t know about Dr. Franklin. That she wasn’t real. That she was a friend. She was his friend, not mine.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“I mean, I believe you. I was in Clovis, at a boxing tournament yesterday, helping.”
“You went to the boxing tournament?”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because it was important to you, and I knew you were stressed about it. And I found an app that I didn’t end up using because I didn’t want to be controlling, but it ran just fine anyway. And I’m pretty sure I love you.”
A smile spread across his face. “Pretty sure?”
“All the way sure.”
He nodded and again a breath of doubt whispered into my ear. Why was he still five feet away? Why wasn’t he saying it back? Why hadn’t he kissed me yet?
I swallowed.
“Can I just … can we just…?” He took my hand and led me inside, then around the tables and groups of people. He pushed through the doors to the back, continued down the hall and into the office. “It was loud out there,” he said, facing me. “Say it again.”
“I believe you. I know you weren’t lying about Dr. Franklin.”
“No, not that part.”
“The tournament? It went really well. I’m guessing you did a lot of that setup work. I’m sure that’s why it ran so well.”
“Sutton. Not that part either.”
“Which part?” I asked with a smile.
“You know which part.”
I took a step toward him, put a hand on his chest, and said, “I love you, Elijah.”
He pulled me into a tight hug. His lips brushed along my temple, and he said, “They weren’t talking about you.
My brother and Fake Dr. Franklin. They were talking about me.
The daddy issues thing. That was me. I have those issues.
My brother was telling her about those issues, apparently.
And the boxing gym, that was temporary, at least me working there was.
I’d told my brother the gym was temporary, that I wasn’t having fun anymore. It was never about you.”
“Are you not going to say it back?” I asked. I’d heard what he said, and that all helped me feel even better about everything, but I was hung up on what he wasn’t saying.
“What?” he asked.
“Do you not feel the same?” I’d put some space between us so I could look him in the eyes with the question.
He only seemed confused.
“I mean, if you’re not there yet, I get it, but … are you not there yet?”
“Where yet?”
“In love. With me.”
His eyes went wide. “Fuck. Yes! I’m sorry, I thought I said it.
I’ve been thinking it since I saw you tonight.
Since way before that. Since you punched me in the face.
Since you sat on my lap and asked me if I wanted eggs.
Since you showered with a fern. Since you ordered limes in your sleep.
Since you threw a dirty napkin at my head.
I love you, Sutton.” He took my face in his hands and brought my lips to his.
He kissed me softly, lingering there. “I love you.”
My whole body melted into his, and my eyes stung with happy tears. I smiled against his mouth. “I don’t order limes in my sleep.”
“You do. And it’s the cutest thing ever.”
“Sit down. I need to tell you the story about that napkin I threw at your head, and then maybe we should use another one.”
He laughed. “I can’t wait to hear it.”
I kissed him before he sat down and then again when he sat down, and we didn’t get to the story until much later.