Chapter Twenty-Three
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
IMPOSSIBLE
ELOISE
Subtle shifts are often hard to place.
One moment you have all the power and the next, you’re wavering in the balance between.
I can pinpoint each moment I gave a fraction of my power to Ezra. The obvious answer would be the night we met, when I let him touch me in the place that I hold most sacred. But I’m not convinced of that.
The first moment I gave him a part of me was the next time I saw him. I couldn’t hide my reaction to him, couldn’t deny that he’d affected me, and my anger made it obvious. A win for Ezra.
Every moment after was a crack in my defenses, a chip at my armor, if you will.
And the last crack was far too large to ignore. The last time I saw him, something changed. I let him in, and he made himself at home.
“I want to take you on a proper date, Eloise.”
I think back to our conversation last night and my denial of his request. Because regardless of the fresh circumstances, I’m not ready to concede victory.
Isn’t it enough that I no longer ignore his probing attempts at communication? Or that I let myself spend time thinking about him when he isn’t around?
Isn’t it enough that I’ve thought of what a life with him would be like?
Impossible.
It’s all impossible but I let my mind wander with the visions of it. Because what could we do? Realistically?
I can’t leave and he can’t stay.
We’re in this strange limbo where I refuse to give up what I’ve chained myself to, no matter the desires I once had for myself to see the world the way my father had, and Ezra has the world at his beck and call.
I shove the book I’ve attempted to read for over an hour away from me with a sigh.
“What’s up with you?” Sophie asks as she walks in from the kitchen, wearing a dark tank top, her tattoos on display. I envy the beauty of them, the sight of them an obvious reminder of her escape from our lives here.
I hadn’t known she was here, but I manage to hide my surprise, turning away to reach for my mug of tepid tea.
“Nothing,” I mutter, standing to rid myself of the mug and the thoughts of sex in places I never thought I’d be able to travel.
There’s a hesitation between us as I pass her to enter the kitchen. I can’t tell which one of us wants to speak more, but neither of us have the confidence to do so.
And when I hear music thumping through the walls and Kitty bellowing the lyrics of some rock song, Sophie sighs and I keep walking.
What could I tell Sophie? Take over, don’t go back to the life you created outside of Cherry Cove? For what? So I could follow a man around the world?
The more I think about it, the more ridiculous the idea seems.
I hear Sophie trudge up the stairs, like she wears the weight of the world on her shoulders. It makes me want to know her. It makes me ache for the relationship we once had, before our worlds crashed and burned at the hands of a drunk driver.
I assume Sophie asks Kitty to turn down the music because as I leave the kitchen to head up to my bedroom, I hear their voices outside my little sister’s bedroom door. The ache in my chest blooms as Kitty laughs, and I fight tears as I close the door to my own.