Chapter 42
I WAS STANDING IN FRONT OF RORY’S PENTHOUSE DOOR IN YALETOWN with my two suitcases by my side. It was pouring outside, and I could hear him moving around in his home, entirely unaware that I was at his door. I grabbed my phone from my pocket and called him.
“Hey, baby,” Rory answered. “No FaceTime?”
“Not right now,” I whispered as I pressed my hand into the wooden door.
“You’re so quiet.” Rory matched my whisper, and I could hear the smile in his voice.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Just making some tacos before I head out. I’m meeting Cameron and Blair at my mom’s in about an hour. What does your day look like?” I could hear Rory rattling away with pots and pans.
“Um, I don’t know yet.” I tapped the door gently with my finger. “Ken gave me a couple of days off.”
“Oh, that’s good. When I get back, let’s just do absolutely nothing. Oh! And is there any chance you can pick up The Sandwich from Roma for me today? I get in after nine tonight and have been craving it for like two weeks.”
“Maybe . . .” I put my forehead on the door.
“You okay, Cains? You sound a little off.”
“Yeah. Ken told me last night that we’re offering Ben the part.”
“Holy shit. Damn. That was quick. Does he know yet?” Rory seemed genuinely happy for Ben, and I closed my eyes with a smile.
“No, not yet. He’ll have to figure some stuff out. He’s been in New York for a long time. It’s crazy how things work out sometimes.” I flipped my eyes up to the ceiling, waiting for Rory’s reaction.
“Totally.” I could hear him grab a plate from his cabinet.
“He’s finally going to LA, and I’m not gonna be there anymore . . . It’s just weird, don’t you think?” I opened my eyes and could feel my stomach flutter.
“What do you mean?”
“Remember how we talked about the next tomorrow? Before last year, I was so afraid it would never exist. Like, a time and place we could never get to.”
“Yeah . . . ?”
“Are we there yet?” I asked.
“What’s going on?” I heard Rory stop moving.
“I’m asking if we’re there yet.” I smiled and wished I could see his face as he worked through what was happening and what I was saying. I waited for Rory’s next thought to form.
“You tell me . . .”
“I think I just did,” I whispered.
“Ellie, where are you?” I could hear that he was short of breath and imagined his heart thumping through his chest. I wished I could place my hand over it and feel it beating rapidly.
“Where do you think I am?”
“I don’t know . . .”
“Yes, you do.” I moved my forehead away from the door and took one step back.
After a moment, the door flew open. Rory was still holding his phone and stood in the doorway wearing a black long-sleeved shirt, sweatpants, and my Dodgers hat on backward. His hair flipped out, exactly how I loved it. He looked down at my two suitcases, my whole life.
“Ellie, what are you doing here?” Rory’s expression was pure shock.
I thought about what to say next, then decided to just answer the question.
“I live here.”
I watched Rory’s chest rise and fall with his staggered breathing.
I watched his dark-brown eyes dance between mine.
I watched his dimple appear then disappear with his changing emotions.
I watched him take a step back to steady himself.
He released his hold on the door, and the hand that held his phone dropped to his hip.
His other hand gently rubbed his mouth. He closed his eyes.
“Ellie?” Rory’s voice was low, trembling. When he opened his eyes again, his face transformed to match my teary-eyed smile.
“Yeah?”
Rory’s tears fell with mine as he asked, “Do you wanna watch a movie?”
I held my lips tightly together to refrain from letting any sobs escape, remembering how Rory had once said he wanted to propose when we were younger. He was right. When it happened, I would know. I took a sharp breath and smiled through my tears.
“Yes, Rory. I really do,” I whispered.
Remember this, Ellie.
Rory grabbed me by the front of my jacket, pulling me toward him, and kissed me. It was right there, back in Vancouver, back in the November rain, where we began . . .
Again.