Chapter 30 Restore
Restore.
We arrived back at the house in silence.
My heels dangled from my fingers, and my dress clung to me in places I didn’t want to feel. I felt like a zombie.
El pulled me out of my daze with his gentle voice.
“Is it too crazy to say your family might be some of the worst people God ever put on the planet? ‘Cause I’m still gonna say it. I just wanna know how mad you’ll be after.”
I glanced down at the shoes in my hand—and suddenly, I was back at my engagement party. Ryan and Johnathan were still together and my mother still cared more about her reputation than her children. Nothing’s changed.
My throat tightened, and before I could stop it, the tears came fast and hot.
El was at my side in an instant, wrapping his arms around me like he’d been expecting it all along.
“I knew that would happen sooner or later,” he murmured.
“Why do I do this to myself?” I choked out, burying my face into his chest.
“Shhh. It’s okay.”
“It’s not,” I said, my voice breaking. “I feel like a fucking idiot.”
“Let’s go upstairs,” he whispered. “Get you out of this dress so you feel more comfortable, yeah?”
“Carry me?” I asked through sobs.
He shook his head but smiled softly, and in one smooth motion, scooped me into his arms.
“Big baby,” he teased.
I clung to him, wrapping my legs around his waist and burying my face into his chest as he carried me up the stairs. When we got to the room, he unzipped the back of my dress and tried to set me down.
“You gotta stand up to get this off, Ellie.”
“No,” I whispered, still clutching him.
“El—”
“No,” I said again, shaking my head.
“Don’t be difficult,” he scolded. “It’ll take two seconds, and then I’m all yours.”
With a dramatic pout, I finally stood up just long enough for him to slide the dress off my shoulders. The second it hit the floor, I crawled right back into his arms, not even bothering to cover my bare chest.
“I need to get undressed too, Ellie,” he said, brushing hair from my face.
“Don’t care,” I muttered into his collarbone.
“Stop it,” he said softly, but there was no real protest in his tone. “I’m serious.”
I cried harder. “You said two seconds and you’re all mine!”
He let out a breath of laughter. “Alright, alright! Jesus.”
Still fully dressed, he climbed into bed with me wrapped around him like a second skin. He laid on his back, my body curled on top of his, tears soaking into his expensive shirt.
He didn’t complain. He didn’t shift. He didn’t say a word. He just held me.
And I sobbed. I sobbed until my ribs ached and my eyes burned and my throat felt raw. It felt like hours before the storm inside me quieted.
But El never moved. Not once.
Finally, I stilled.
“Feeling better?” El asked gently.
“No.”
He kissed my forehead, brushing his knuckles along my cheek. “That’s okay. I can be strong enough for both of us today.”
I sighed dramatically. “Thank you.”
“Can I take off my clothes now? It’s hot in here.”
“Snooty.” I teased, earning me a little flick on the forehead.
I sat back to let him, wiping under my eyes as he started to unbutton his shirt. Halfway through, he paused, his breath hitching as he grabbed the frame to catch himself.
My heart dropped. “Are you hurt?”
He scoffed, waving me off. “That motherfucker could never, and I mean never, hurt me.”
I rolled my eyes at the cockiness, but worry still pooled in my stomach. “Then what’s wrong?”
“High blood sugar,” he muttered, his voice lower now. My eyes widened.
I’d silenced my phone for the wedding so I hadn’t seen the alert. “Shit. What should I do?”
“Can you grab my bag?”
“Yeah—yes!” I rushed across the room, yanked the bag out of the corner, and ran it over to him.
“Thanks, Peanut.”
“What else do you need? Tell me.”
He looked at me, patient and calm. “For you to breathe. I’m okay. I’m not gonna die.”
Still, I watched with bated breath as he removed his pod and placed it on the nightstand. His hands were trembling slightly as he reached for the alcohol wipes in his kit.
“Let me help,” I said quickly.
“You sure?” he asked, looking up at me.
“Please. Let me.”
He studied me for a second, then nodded. “Okay.”
He passed me the packet, and I opened it, gently cleaning the area near the previous injection site. My hands were steadier than I expected.
“I’m gonna need to do a straight-up injection,” he said. “Think you can handle it?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
He pulled one of the chilled insulin pens from the cooler, dialed it, then tested it with a quick pump into the cap. With his teeth, he removed the protective cover, then pinched the skin just above where the pod had been.
“Just insert it here,” he said, guiding my hand, “and press the release. That’s it.”
I followed his instructions carefully, pressing the needle into his skin and clicking the release. He winced, groaning softly. He hated the needles.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
He gave a weak grin. “Good job, Peanut.”
“Was that enough?”
“Yeah,” he said, exhaling slowly. “It’ll bring me down. But I need to get a new pod on, or I’ll just keep climbing once the insulin wears off.”
“Okay. What do you need me to do?”
He gave me a soft look. “I’ve got it, but you can help prep it if you want.”
“I want to.”
He smiled. “I figured.”
He pulled the new pod kit from his bag, setting it on the nightstand with a syringe and a fresh vial of insulin. I watched carefully as he drew insulin from the vial with the syringe. His hand still shook a little.
“Want me to fill it?” I asked gently.
He hesitated. Then handed me the syringe. “Yeah. Just draw up 200 units, then inject it into the pod. See that little port?”
I nodded. “Got it.”
I did it slowly, steadying my hand like I’d done the injection earlier. The pod made a soft clicking sound when it primed itself.
He gave a faint smile. “Perfect. Now I just have to pick a spot.”
He lifted his shirt, revealing a line of healed dots across his abdomen—past injection sites. I rubbed against his usual spot, and he winced.
“Too tender?” I asked.
“A bit. Let’s go with the next side.”
“Okay.”
He passed me an alcohol wipe, and I cleaned the right side of his abdomen while he synced the pod on his phone.
“Once it’s ready, it’ll beep,” he explained.
“Cool.” I knelt in front of him, watching his breathing slow.
His eyes met mine, soft and tired.
“Are you sure you want to deal with this?” he asked. “It’ll keep happening, and it’s stressful.”
“Shut up. I’m not going anywhere,” I stated firmly.
His smile reached his eyes then.
The pod chirped, ready. I peeled off the backing and pressed it gently but firmly against his skin.
“Now just tap ‘Start’.” He handed me his phone and I tapped it. The pod clicked. Then snapped. He winced again but didn’t flinch.
“You okay?”
He nodded. “You’ve got steady hands. Could’ve been a nurse.”
I scoffed, playfully. “Do you need anything else? Tea? Water?”
He shook his head, closing his eyes for a second. “No, I’m okay. Just need to sit still for a few minutes. Why don’t you take a shower? Give yourself a minute to breathe. You’ve had a hell of a day.”
“I don’t want to leave you like this.”
He chuckled. “So what? You gonna watch me sleep now?”
I didn’t answer. I just stared at him, fully prepared to do just that. He saw the determination on my face and shook his head fondly.
“You’re ridiculous,” he murmured. “I’ll be fine. I promise. Just go take a minute for yourself.”
I hesitated for another moment, then nodded. “Okay. Call me if you need me.”
“I will, Peanut.”
As I stepped out the door, I looked back once. He was already reclining, his head resting against the headboard, eyes fluttering closed. I watched him for a moment before dragging myself down the hall.
I showered in Daddy’s bathroom, because I didn’t want him to hear me crying while he tried to sleep.
The moment the hot water hit my skin, I slid to the floor of the shower, and finally let the sobs run through me. I cried for everything. I cried until the water ran cold and the steam faded from the mirror. Until the ache in my chest dulled and I could breathe again.
Wrapped in a towel, I walked back to the bedroom and found El wasn’t in the bed.
“El?” I called, but there was no answer.
When I heard the shower running from the bathroom, I exhaled in relief and decided not to bother him.
I crawled into bed, letting the plush pillows swallow me whole. My fingers curled in the blanket as my mind spiraled.
Was I doing the right thing? Daddy did leave the house to Ryan. That was his final say.
And even though it made no sense, I couldn’t help but feel like I was in the wrong for holding the house, knowing there was now a child involved.
A moment later, El appeared in the doorway, steam curling around him like a ghost. A towel was slung low around his waist, water beading on his chest.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked softly.
I shook my head, offering a small, “No. Are you feeling better?”
“Much. Thanks to you.” He crossed the room and stood at the edge of the bed as he toweled off. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired,” I admitted. “But I can’t sleep.”
He frowned. “I’m sorry, Peanut.”
I patted the space in front of me, and he didn’t hesitate to slip under the covers, wrapping his warmth around me.
“Today was a disaster,” I whispered.
He nodded. “It was.”
“We lost ourselves. That wasn’t who we are. That’s not what we stand for.”
“I know.” He looked down at me, brushing a damp strand of hair from my face. “But I don’t regret it. I’ll never let anyone disrespect you, Ellie. I don’t care who they are—family or not. No one talks to you like that in front of me.”
My throat tightened. “I know, Puddin'.”
El looked over at me, brow furrowed. “What was your mother even yelling about?”
“She wants to sell Daddy’s house because Ryan’s pregnant.”
“What?”
I shrugged. “Daddy did leave Ryan the house. If she graduated.”
“Did she graduate?”
“No.”
“Well then that settles that.”
“El,” I said, shifting slightly, “she’s pregnant. That changes things.”
“In what way?”
“She needs the money.”