Chapter 36
Willow
It's been one hell of a difficult week.
The kind you wish you could fold up and throw away, especially with Christmas around the corner.
Usually, this is my favourite time of year. I love the lights, the music, and the ridiculous jumpers that you buy, even if you’re only going to wear them once and store them until next Christmas. Everything feels so much more joyful, but that’s not how I’m feeling right now.
The morning after I got stupidly drunk and told Elijah we shouldn't be a thing anymore, I left.
I’m an idiot; I know.
I didn't even give him the decency of saying it to his face. I just woke up with a pounding head, shame crawling up my spine, and instead of fixing it, I ran. I shoved a few clothes into a bag with the letters from my dad, grabbed Sassy, and went straight to Quinn's.
Like a coward.
I told myself I just needed the space without him looking at me like I’m worth fighting for. Am I? I don't even know if I am anymore.
But the truth is, I was scared.
Scared that if he touched me, I’d forget everything Rose said. Scared that if he looked at me with those pretty blue eyes, I would fold. So instead of risking it, I left him a message.
A message.
Not even a proper goodbye or explanation. Just stupid words on a stupid screen.
And I haven't seen him since.
Every day that has passed makes it worse to the point that I feel sick with guilt. More so because he's given me the space I asked for, even if it's killing him. And the worst part is it's killing me too.
It hasn't stopped him from messaging me every morning and night, making sure I’m okay and when I’m coming back. I don't message back, though.
I’m so angry at myself. Why can't I just get over myself and see him?
He doesn't deserve this.
Yes, he should have told me about the drugs. About all of it. I won't pretend that it didn't hurt. But I believe him when he says he was going to tell me, just in his own time. Rose had no right to out him like that.
Hearing her admit when the affair happened and the reasoning why it did sting. It felt like someone had poured gasoline onto an open wound. But the thing is, I already knew. Not the details, but I knew enough. I knew their history was messy, and Elijah wasn't innocent in it all.
I still fell for him anyway.
I don't regret that. Not for a second.
What I regret is letting her get inside my head again. Letting her twist something good into something rotten. She has this way of planting doubt and then standing back while it grows.
And I let her.
Now my feelings are all tangled in one complicated ball. My grief. My anger. My feelings for Elijah and my loyalty to my Dad. It's all knotted together, and I don't know which thread to pull without unravelling the whole thing.
It's a damn mess.
“Okay, babe, I love you,” Quinn says, flopping dramatically onto the bed. “But you need to go back home.”
The mattress dips hard enough to make Sassy grumble, her tail flicking in protest as she curls tighter against my side.
I glance at Quinn. “Bored with me already?”
She snorts. “Please, you're my favourite person. But you've been moping in my bed for a week.”
I look back down at the envelopes in my hands, running my thumb over the edges again. I still haven't had the guts to open them.
There's one for my birthday among other events he wanted to be there for, but there's one that throws me the most.
Elijah's letter.
My dad never really spoke about Elijah, so it's confusing why he would write him a letter.
“He misses you.”
I twist my lips. “And how exactly would you know that?”
I set the letters down on the duvet as she pushes herself upright, suddenly looking far too pleased with herself.
“Ezra told me.”
“Why are you talking to him?”
She winks.
Groaning loudly, really hoping she's not doing what I think she's doing. “Please don't tell me you had another threesome with him.”
“Relax,” she scoffs. “He doesn't do it for me. Unlike you,” she pokes my boob for emphasis.
“Quinn.”
“I’m serious. He's actually a decent friend. We just happen to have the same taste in women. Tragic for him, great for me.”
I roll my eyes at her because she can't stay serious for more than thirty seconds, but she continues.
“He told me Elijah hasn't really been himself since you left.”
That wipes the humour off my face.
I close my eyes briefly.
River mentioned something similar, just not knowing it's because of me. Said he's been working a lot more, constantly distracted. He asked me why I left, but I couldn't tell him exactly because I’m in love with his dad and spiralling over it.
Shit. In love? How can you know what love feels like if you’ve never experienced it before?
Instead, I gave River a vague excuse about needing space from everyone.
Space is something I thought I needed, but I’m not so sure anymore.
“See?” Quinn's voice is soft. “You're not the only one hurting.”
I know that.
That's the problem.
“I’m being an idiot, aren't I?”
“Yes.” Quinn doesn't even hesitate. Then she laughs at my expression. “Oh, don't look at me like that. You asked.”
I wish I didn't now.
I grumble and flop back against the pillows.
“That man is offensively attractive. Book boyfriend material.” She continues, counting off on her fingers.
“And he absolutely worships you. You already knew about his involvement with your dad and that whorebag with the fake tits and lips, and as you said, he would've told you about the drugs when he was ready.”
She reaches over and lightly tugs at my hair. “You're not angry about the past. You're scared of how much you feel now. So you ran, and the only person you're punishing is yourself.”
Elijah too.
I stare at the ceiling because I don't have anything to say. After all, she has a point.
God, I miss him. I miss everything about him.
“Who knew you could be so wise?” I tease.
She shrugs lightly. “I have layers.”
She's watched too much Shrek this week.
I squint at her. “You just don't want to clean the coffee shop again.”
“Correct. I’m still traumatised. Do you know how long it took me to clean that floor? You owe me.”
I laugh despite myself. She complained the whole time, even though that mess wasn't my fault.
“And,” she adds, pointing at me. “I want my bed back. You kick and refuse to cuddle me.”
“Because your hand kept drifting south.”
Quinn has wandering hands in her sleep. I woke up in the middle of the night to her holding onto my boobs for dear life.
“I can't help it. I have no control over my actions when sleeping. But I also miss your shiny jewel down there,” she goes to poke there this time, but I grab her hand.
“We need to teach you boundaries.”
Her tongue pokes out. “Pond wouldn't complain.”
I don’t doubt that for a second.
I shake my head and stand up to find my phone and some clothes. Quinn could just say hi to my brother, and he would be on his knees for her. Hopefully, he moves on soon.
She holds my phone out to me until I finally take it.
“Message him. Invite the guy to the Christmas markets and sort this shit out before I’m forced to make you commit another crime.”
“You wouldn't."
A wicked grin appears on her face. “Oh, I absolutely would.”
I huff out a breath and scroll to Elijah's name, my stomach instantly somersaulting at his name.
“What if he's working?” I ask, anxiety creeping in. “What if he can't come or just doesn't want to see me?”
Quinn gets off the bed and heads to her drawer like she's on a mission. “Something tells me that Elijah would drop whatever he's doing to see you.”
I chew my bottom lip, tapping the back of my phone nervously.
Behind me, I hear the drawer shut.
A buzzing sound.
I spin around to see her holding a black vibrator. Oh my god.
“Quinn!” I squeal, grabbing my things, including Sassy, and head to the door. She calls out that it’s been a very long week for her, too.