Chapter Twenty-four
Jack slept badly, but Ellie had passed out right after she came and slept soundly most of the night.
It was almost enough to convince him that Ellie had been right, that not being nudged to talk about her mom or her feelings had been what she needed.
Only she woke up the next morning and went right back to acting distant and distracted.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t entitled to be those things.
Hell, he’d be a wreck in her shoes. But her fake smiles and insistence that everything was fine pushed every button he had.
He could practically see Clover and his siblings shaking their heads over it.
And without the sex endorphins to take up all the space in his brain, he couldn’t pretend any longer.
So he poured them each a second cup of coffee to go with the bagels he’d toasted, and tried again. “What do you need? What can I do?”
Ellie shook her head. “There isn’t anything.”
He bit back the flare of frustration. “I know there’s nothing I can do for your mom. I trust she’s in the best possible place for her right now and getting the care she needs. I’m asking about you.”
“I’m fine,” Ellie snapped. Then she huffed out a breath. “I’m fine.”
The second delivery was calmer but no more convincing. “Ellie, this is really hard. You don’t have to be fine.”
“But I am.” Her smile—not too bright and the tiniest bit wry—was so convincing he almost believed her. “I promise.”
He might have let it go if it hadn’t been for that last bit. I promise. A patent lie. Though he couldn’t tell whether she was lying to him or to herself. “I don’t believe you.”
Her shoulders stiffened, but she didn’t say anything.
“I think you’re worried and hurting and used to putting on a brave face when it comes to your mother. And for some reason, you don’t want me to see any of that.”
Ellie’s eyes went cold. “What makes you think it’s a face? Maybe I’m just experienced enough with all of this to know what I need to do to get through it.”
“I’m sure you do. What I’m saying is that you don’t have to do it alone.” Surely she couldn’t argue that.
“I don’t need you to hold my hand.”
The retort packed a dose of snark, but he’d take fiery over frigid any day. “Maybe I want to hold your hand.”
Ellie merely rolled her eyes.
“Come on. Would you take that answer if the tables were turned? What’s good for the goose—”
“I’ve got it. It’s easier to keep it all separate.” She shrugged, as though that was the most obvious thing in the world.
“I’m pretty sure you’d be the first to say easier isn’t necessarily better.
” Jack regretted the words the second they left his mouth.
What he’d meant as a gentle prod to Ellie’s straightforward and openhearted worldview had come out as a sarcastic dig.
And one look at Ellie’s face confirmed that’s exactly how it landed.
“Would you like me to yell and throw things? Fall apart so you can play hero?” Ellie folded her arms. “It sounds like this conversation is actually about what you need.”
He expected her to call him out. He didn’t expect her to do it with such vitriol. “I need you to be honest.”
“Well, I need to figure out if my mom’s facility will take her back after she hit a member of the staff. So, unless you can make that happen for me, I’ve got it covered.”
He winced, the magnitude of her stress hitting him at a new level. “Can they do that? Not take her back?”
“Yeah.” Ellie pinched the bridge of her nose.
“I’m sorry.” He reached for her, feeling utterly helpless but wanting to offer something.
“It’s not your fault. It’s just one more thing I have to deal with.” The fire was gone. In its place, simple resignation.
“I want to help,” he said, hating just how unhelpful he sounded.
“How can you help when you don’t even understand?”
“Help me understand. Please.”
Ellie shook her head, and suddenly she seemed a million miles away. “I can’t, Jack. I’ve got a million things to deal with and teaching you intro to having a parent with mental illness just doesn’t make the cut right now.”
He opened his mouth but closed it without saying anything. Because what could he say to that? It might be harsh, but it was true. In this moment, Ellie saw him as one more problem needing her attention instead of a partner. And whatever good intentions he might have, he didn’t know how to help.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“You don’t need to apologize.” He suddenly felt like he did. “I’m sorry if my attempt at making things better just feels like more work for you.”
“It’s not that.” Ellie dropped her head back, stared at the ceiling, and sighed.
“What is it then?” Because even more than he wanted to help, he wanted to understand.
“I love my mom, and I’m protective of her. I don’t like it when people feel sorry for her.”
Jack wanted it to make sense. With enough mental gymnastics, he might get it to. But that wasn’t how Ellie operated, and something told him to go with his gut. “Are you worried about people feeling sorry for her, or sorry for you?”
Ellie gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. It felt a lot more like denial than disagreement. “I’m not the one with the debilitating illness.”
Was she really playing the tough card? “That doesn’t mean you’re not profoundly affected by it.”
“But it does mean I get to go about my life and have my work and my friends and my”—she gestured vaguely at him—“you.”
“You should have those things. And I’m guessing your mom wants you to have them, too.”
Ellie sighed again. “She does.”
“Do you feel guilty for making a life for yourself?”
“No.”
The fast and flat answer told him he’d hit a nerve. Only he didn’t know where to go next that wouldn’t make her lash out. Or, worse, shut down entirely.
“I feel guilty that I don’t want the messiness of that part of my life to seep into the rest. I like being the fun and easy person that people want to be around.
I like being insightful and optimistic and fun.
The person people can count on who doesn’t bring a whole lot of baggage to the table.
” She shrugged. “What you see is what you get, you know?”
It struck him that, for all the ways he came across as quiet and closed off, it was Ellie who kept the most fragile parts of herself locked firmly away. “That might work for casual friends or the occasional fuck buddy, but I’m neither of those things. I don’t want to be either of those things.”
“Are you giving me an ultimatum?” Ellie asked.
“What? No.” Jack scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m asking you to open up to me. To trust me.”
Ellie nodded, but again, it registered as resignation more than anything else. “And I’m asking you to let me decide how to handle a very personal part of my life.”
It felt like an impasse, though he didn’t want to call it that. Especially when Ellie was so emotionally wrung out. “I can give you space, if that’s what you want.”
Ellie’s eyes narrowed briefly. “Yeah, okay.”
Jack reached for her hand, but she stood before he could take it.
“I think I’m going to go,” she said.
“Go?”
“Yeah. Home. Or maybe to Rhett’s. I need to decompress from all this. You know. Space.”
That wasn’t at all what he’d meant, but trying to clarify would be asserting his truth over hers—the exact opposite of what he was going for. “Do whatever feels best for you. I’m here, though. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Thanks.” She gave him a small smile then turned her attention to the dogs. After some pets and promises to see them soon, she headed for the front door.
Jack got up and followed. She put on her shoes and picked up her purse. “I’ll text you later.”
“Sounds good.” He resisted the urge to pull her into his arms, to tell her everything would be okay. Because platitudes were rubbish, and in this case, he didn’t actually know if things would be.
Ellie opened the door and stepped out. “Thanks for trying.”
She didn’t wait for him to respond, to say he’d like to do so much more than try.
She didn’t linger for a goodbye kiss or say she loved him.
He didn’t say it either, not because he didn’t feel it but because they hadn’t said it at all to each other yet and this would be a really shitty time to lay it out there.
And because, he realized with a heaviness in his chest, saying it wouldn’t fix the gaping divide between what he wanted from a partner and what Ellie seemed interested in giving.
* * *
Ellie left Jack’s only to walk the length of the porch and knock on Rhett’s door. Rhett was smiling when she opened it. “Are you just going to go back and forth between my place and Jack’s? We could get you your own mailbox.”
She let her shoulders slump. “At the rate I’m going, I won’t be spending much more time at Jack’s.”
Rhett’s look became her signature mix of concerned and stern, an expression she referred to as her Southern special. “Girl.”
Ellie shrugged. “Can I come in?”
Rhett opened the door wide and made a sweeping gesture. “You know you didn’t have to ask. Or knock, for that matter.”
Ellie skulked in, dropping her bag and collapsing dramatically onto Rhett’s sofa.
“Okay, then.” Rhett closed the door and nodded slowly. “Would you like a cup of tea? Something stronger than tea?”
“He’s so fucking stubborn,” Ellie said. She stomped her foot, a move made extra ridiculous by the fact that she was sitting down.
Rhett winced. “You’re probably going to kick my ass for saying this, but it takes one to know one.”
She glowered. “I’m not going to kick your ass.”
“No, but you’ll probably get huffy and try to change the subject since I’m not agreeing with you.” Rhett lifted a finger. “For the record, I’m not disagreeing with you. It’s a both and situation.”
Ellie huffed, then realized she’d played right into Rhett’s prediction. “Well, can we talk about Jack’s stubbornness first?”
“Of course.”
“He’s so fucking stubborn,” she said again. “I’ve been through this. More times than I care to count. I know what I’m doing. Why won’t he just trust me to handle it?”
“I don’t think he thinks you can’t handle it,” Rhett said.
“Then what?”
Rhett took a deep breath and let it out excruciatingly slowly. “I think he thinks you shouldn’t have to handle it alone.”
Her shoulders slumped. “He said that. Essentially, at least.”
“Yeah?” Rhett’s tone was gentle.
She hated when people tried to be gentle. It implied she was fragile. “He said that I act open to the world and all about embracing vulnerability, but when it comes to myself, I don’t.”
“That’s a big assertion.”
Ellie laughed. “He actually used the phrase ‘what’s good for the goose.’ Like a freaking ninety-year-old.”
Rhett laughed, too.
Ellie stopped laughing.
Rhett did, too.
Ellie scowled.
Rhett smiled.
“Is that your way of telling me he’s right?” She really didn’t want to entertain that possibility.
“Not necessarily. Why don’t you tell me how he’s wrong?”
Ellie squinted. “That’s sneaky.”
“Is it?” Rhett asked, all innocence.
“Yes, because I’m trying to be indignant and you’re busy poking holes in my logic.” It was like getting emotionally pantsed.
Rhett dropped her head to one side. “Am I poking holes or simply pointing to ones that are already there?”
She sniffed. “Same difference.”
Rhett didn’t say anything then. She simply blinked.
Ellie weighed her options and landed on the side of playing dirty. “Why do I think you learned that look from your mother?”
“I did,” Rhett said without missing a beat. “But she uses her powers for evil, and I only use mine for good.”
She laughed because how could she not? It broke a little of the tension, which was nice, but mostly left her back where she’d started. “So, you’re saying you think Jack is right. And I’m wrong.”
“I’m saying no such thing. I’m saying you need to think about the kind of person you want to be.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Other than to imply the kind of person she was now was the wrong slash not good kind.
“You’re one of the most generous, kind, and delightful human beings I know.”
“Aw, thank you.” Ellie smirked. “Even though I know you’re about to slap a big ole but on there.”
“And. I’m slapping an ‘and’ on there.” Rhett gave a haughty chin toss and cleared her throat. “And…I think you’re so attached to that version of yourself that you hesitate to show anything else.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She knew she was setting herself up but couldn’t seem to help it.
“It’s not bad. But it’s not authentic.” Rhett didn’t elaborate, knowing full well she’d achieved mic drop in seven words.
Ellie scowled again. “Just because I compartmentalize doesn’t mean I’m not authentic.”
Again, Rhett merely blinked. Slow. Intentional. Effective.
Ellie let out a string of swear words.
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.”
She wouldn’t. And she trusted Rhett more than anyone else. God, she hated being wrong. She was about to say as much when an even more unpleasant thought landed. “Do you think I do that with you?”
Rhett didn’t answer, which proved more damning than anything she could have said. Ellie pressed the tips of her fingers to her forehead. It didn’t do much to chase away the headache she had brewing, but it spared her having to look Rhett in the eye.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Rhett grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I don’t think you mean to shut me out.”
“But you think I do. Shut you out I mean.” Ellie shook her head before braving eye contact.
“Well, it’s like you said. You compartmentalize. The thing is, I love you. All of you. And I want you to show me all those messy, not always a good time parts. I bet Jack feels the same.”
They were talking about her messy parts, but she couldn’t help but wonder at the love part.
Did Jack love her? Did she love him? She always considered herself quick to fall in love, but it struck her now that her way of being in love was very specific—lots of chemistry and affection, mutual curiosity, and support anytime the other person needed it.
But how often did she let herself need it in return?
“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Rhett said softly.
Ellie swiped at her eyes and laughed. “I didn’t even realize you did.”
“There haven’t been a lot of people in your life you could count on. Not for the hard stuff at least.”
She nodded slowly. As much as she hated the phrasing, it held truth.
She didn’t count on people because it meant she wouldn’t have to be disappointed if they wouldn’t—or couldn’t—come through.
And most of the people in her life, romantic partners included, either hadn’t noticed or didn’t have a problem with it.
“I think you can count on Jack.” Rhett elbowed her gently. “And you sure as hell can count on me.”
Ellie grumbled, then she chuckled. “Yeah.”