Chapter 36 #3
Tears dropped to my cheeks. “When I first got into the water, I was just a kid going on auditions, doing what I was told in a room full of adults. I twisted myself in knots, doing whatever I could for my dreams to come true, hoping they would pick me. The water wasn’t boiling then.
I don’t know when that happened.” I moved my unfocused stare to the end of my bed, to the dresser that held my TV.
Sitting on the dresser was my lucky golf ball.
“Every day, I think, ‘Was it worth it?’ I’m good at my job.
People at home think what I do is cool. My parents are proud.
But was it worth it? I lost you to New York.
I lost Ben to LA. I ran away from my family and friends.
Now I feel like I don’t have anything if I don’t have this career that I’ve sacrificed everything for, including myself. ”
Rory placed one hand over his mouth. We sat in silence. I knew his brain was turning, trying to find the right words. The whir of the ceiling fan seemed to be getting louder.
“I waited my whole life to see who I could become in Los Angeles . . . I never thought this was who I would be.” I shook my head, defeated, then broke through the silence again.
“They say LA will chew you up and spit you out. I feel pretty chewed, but now I just want them to fucking choke on me. I’ve worked too hard and I’ve put up with too much to let them spit me out.
” I closed my eyes. “That’s why I’m still here.
I need to prove to myself that everything was worth it. ”
“How are you going to do that? What do you need to feel that way?” Rory choked over his words.
“I don’t know . . . My parents used to say I was chasing dragons. But I think I’m the dragon. I’m pursuing some version of myself that I’ve only ever caught small glimpses of and that won’t ever exist. I’m the dragon, and I’m chasing my own tail.”
Rory’s rasp cut through the dark and quiet. He slipped his fingers under my bracelet, tying us together. “I know you might not feel this way, but when I look at you, Ellie, time stands still. I see you as you were, and as you are, and I love every version of you. If you run, I’m running with you.”
I let out one more sigh, then said, “Thank you . . .” I smiled meekly, needing to stop myself from crying. “I can take a picture of my shit now, if you want.” I laughed softly, but Rory wasn’t laughing with me.
“I’m going to kill Craig on Monday. You know that, right?”
“Nothing has happened in over a year except for some random texts and tonight’s weirdness. I need you to believe me. Most of this stuff is long in the past. I just wanted you to know about it. About me.”
Rory was nodding, but I could see his brain working a mile a minute.
I twisted my fingers into his and kissed his hands. “Rory, listen to what I’m saying. I’m okay.”
“Okay.” Rory nodded solemnly, blinking again. Life was making its way back into his distressed expression. “Do you promise you’ll tell me if something else happens?”
“Of course I will.”
“Good, because I have a guy.”
I chuckled. “Is it Orson?”
“It is.” He matched my laughter, but his tears fell, revealing how he was really feeling.
“I can’t hide a body. I don’t have the muscles.”
“I do.” Rory’s voice lifted. He sounded more sincere than he should have.
I gently laid Rory back down onto the pillows, having forgotten that we were naked.
He pulled my entire body tightly in to him, protecting me from whatever boogeyman was haunting his mind.
I moved his loose curls away from his forehead and held on to the back of his head as he kissed me.
I moved my legs around Rory to straddle him, but he pulled me down and wrapped his strong arms around my back, stopping me, steadying me, holding me.
“Are you okay?” I asked quietly.
He shook his head against me. I pulled away, and he looked back with wetness in his eyes.
“Just . . .” Rory wiped his face with his open hand. “Hard conversation.” He shifted me off his body, so I cuddled into him.
“I know.” I nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“I would move here for you. For us. Tomorrow. I would move tomorrow.” He left his lips pressed into my forehead.
“I know,” I whispered.
“Would you want that?” he asked carefully.
“I would.” Everything inside me hurt. I was bruised and fogged and confused. “But, Rory, I know you don’t want to be here.”
“Ellie, I would—”
“Rory, I know you don’t. And the truth is . . .” Along with my deep, shaky breath came a quiet cry that I wasn’t ready to release. “I don’t know if I want to be here anymore, either. I’m waiting on that next tomorrow. I just don’t know when or where that is yet.”
I didn’t sleep all night, and I could tell he didn’t, either.
Rory didn’t tell me until after my workday was over that he had spent all of Monday sitting in his car on the street in front of my office, on his phone or reading a book.
He promised he wouldn’t do that again on Tuesday, but he did.
On Wednesday, I forced him to go golfing and said I would call if anything happened.
Thursday and Friday were spent entirely in bed, ordering food, watching movies, having sex, talking, laughing, falling deeper and deeper in love.
When he left on Saturday to meet up with his brothers for the weekend, I cried. I cried all of Sunday, too.