Chapter 11
11
ELLE
W hy did he do that?
I take longer than I need to in the shower, trying to collect my thoughts. I’m thinking about how Peter and I basically just said I love you to each other. Then, I’m thinking about the fact that some random company in California wants me to come out there and take pictures for them. The cafe pops into my head too, and I wonder how I can leave to go out west when I need to stay and help my parents. I can’t. I just… can’t.
What the hell was Peter thinking?
Once my fingertips start to wrinkle, I wrap myself in the plush hotel towel and look at the foggy mirror. I clear the condensation away with my hand so I can see my reflection. There’s a crease etched between my eyebrows and visible tension in my neck.
What am I doing here? In this fancy hotel, an entire state away from my family? My parents need me, and I just left them to handle the chaos of the weekend business.
God, I feel like the shittiest daughter ever. I basically played around all day while they had to deal with the Saturday rush by themselves. I couldn’t possibly leave them for weeks on end while I gallivant around the country, even if it is for a paid photography gig.
I watch my expression harden with determination as my decision forms in my mind. When I step out of the bathroom, Peter jumps up from the bed and stalks over to me, nervous energy radiating off his body.
“Ella Kate, what’s wrong? Talk to me. Please,” he begs as I walk past him and dig through my bag for some clothes.
“I can’t… I can’t believe you just sprung that on me,” I gripe.
“ Sprung on you? It was supposed to be a fun surprise,” he insists. “I thought you’d be excited about the opportunity, both to work on your photography and to be able to travel more.”
I whip around to face him. “I don’t have time to travel, Peter!”
He throws his hands up. “It’s just one little trip. You’d be back soon enough. It’s not like you’re committing to some lifetime of adventurous excursions all across the globe,” he huffs. “Just try it and see if you like it. If you really hate it and think it’s a waste of time, you never have to do it again.”
I shake my head and pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. “Peter, not everyone can be as irresponsible as you are, you know.”
He winces, and even though I know I’m being rash and unfair, I can’t seem to stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth.
“Some of us have people depending on us and we can’t just do whatever we want, whenever we want.”
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry,” he placates, approaching me cautiously. “Listen, let’s just relax for the rest of the night and we can talk more in the morning, yeah?”
I hug my arms around myself and take a step away from him. Ignoring the way his face falls when I tell him, “No, I want to go home. Now .”
“What?” He looks so hurt and confused. “Ella Kate, can’t you just sleep on it? We can figure everything out in the morn?—“
I lift a hand and cut him off. “No, Peter. I want to go home.” I blink back the tears in my eyes. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”
He swallows hard before taking a step back. “If that’s what you want,” he whispers, then steps around the bed to get dressed.
It doesn’t need to be said, but the asshole part of my brain says it anyway. “Yes, that’s what I want.” I’m being mean and harsh for no reason, but I can’t seem to help myself.
Watching the man who has been nothing but sweet and kind and tender toward me—the man I’ve started to love—hang his head in immense sadness makes my chin wobble, and I press a hand to my mouth to choke back a sob. I feel terrible for making Peter feel this way, but I need to leave. I need to get back home. I’ve been living in this fantasy with this gorgeous and funny man, and now it’s time to get back to the real world. I need to screw my head on straight again and think about what’s best for my family and the business.
Within minutes, the two of us are packed and we head out of the room. When we make it to the lobby, Peter tells me to go to the car and he’ll deal with checking out. I simply nod and walk toward the parking lot, wrapping my sweater tightly around myself while I wait for him.
The drive home is tense and awkward, which feels so wrong because things with Peter have never been awkward. Not like this. He’s always making me laugh or pushing my buttons, so for the both of us to be sitting rigid in unfamiliar silence feels like a tragedy. He keeps his hands tightly on the wheel the entire time while I keep mine clasped in my lap, desperately trying to remember the way his warm palm felt against mine as we held hands on the drive down.
After what feels like an eternity, Peter pulls in front of my house. “Can I see you in the morning?” he asks, breaking the silence that has settled between us ever since Savannah.
Gripping the door handle, I swallow and respond while looking straight ahead, “Actually, I think we should take a break for a bit.”
He starts, as if he’s about to protest, but then he sinks into his seat. “Is that really how you feel?” All the fight has disappeared from his voice and I hate it.
I’m still not looking at him, because I know if I do, I’ll want to take back everything I’ve said and throw myself at him. But even if that’s what I want to do, that’s not what I should do right now. So, instead, I simply mumble, “Yes.”
“Okay,” he sighs, running his hand through his thick hair. “If that’s really what you want, Ella Kate, then I’ll leave you alone.”
I nod and say, in a voice no louder than a church mouse, “Thank you, Peter.”
He sits up, preparing to get out of the car. “I’ll get your bag.”
“I got it,” I declare harsher than I intended, and his shoulder slump with disappointment.
There are a million unsaid words between us, as I step out of the car, grab my bag, and head to the house. But, because Peter is a gentleman, even when I’m treating him unfairly, he waits until I’m inside before he pulls out of his parking spot.
I press my back to the door and listen to the sound of his car engine as he drives away. When the rumble disappears, I slide to the floor and hug my knees to my chest. Finally alone, in the dark foyer of my home, the dam bursts and tears fall down my face as sobs rack my body.
I feel as though I’ve just made the biggest mistake, but I don’t know what else to do. I just can’t live that life. I have too many responsibilities to take care of here.
I’m sorry, Peter. I’m so very sorry.