Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Emily
Ifind myself telling him everything.
All the anger, all the pain I’ve been carrying around inside since I left Gav.
..no, since things started to go wrong with him, actually.
..it all comes pouring out all at once like a busted dam.
I must have really, really needed to offload, more than I knew, because I hadn’t had the opportunity, or anyone to talk to, before now.
But I suppose panic can do that to a person: it strips you back to your core needs and demands that they be met.
I tell him about the ridicule, the constant angry nitpicking until I was a nervous wreck scared to speak or act, the way he made me spend some of my inheritance from my grandmother on stuff for him and to bail him out of credit card debt, everything I can think of.
I think, after holding this as a boulder of a secret inside myself, I just needed to talk to someone about it all.
And Eli listens patiently, without judging me.
He judges Gav plenty, though - especially when I find myself confessing to him that I had to have sex with Gav whenever he wanted or he’d throw a fit.
Eli’s nostrils flared and his face went pale and his jaw tightened, and I really thought that he’d lose his shit, but he didn’t because he’s not an animal.
He's an adult in control of himself. So all he does is tell me, in a voice that’s not to be argued with, that I did nothing wrong.
His judgement and anger with my ex is soothingly validating. Eli’s a good guy, and he’s on my side.
And he doesn’t want children, either.
I haven't pushed him for more information about that, even though I'm gagging to know the deal. But I know from my own experience that that's intensely personal.
Parenthood is something that has simply never been on my radar.
There’s just never been any interest. When I found out that I had almost no chance of conceiving ever in my life without a lot of expensive procedures and a few miracles, the doctor held my hand and broke it to me gently, and she seemed almost offended when I shrugged and blithely accepted it.
But where is it written that every woman has to be a mother?
Gav took it as more evidence that I wasn’t woman enough for him, and right now I’m glad. I’m glad if I’m ‘broken’ in his eyes, because it’s part of the reason why I’m safe from him now.
That knowledge settles warmly over my shoulders, bringing me a wondrous peace.
I’m safe now. I’m not going to be hated anymore.
I smile a little in relief. It’s still not going to be easy to deal with the internal scars and wounds caused by years of Gav’s rage and abuse, but that realisation does help a lot.
Eventually, I feel all talked out. I feel more tired than anything else.
Tired and a little embarrassed at my panic attack, tears, and subsequent offloading, but not embarrassed enough to regret it.
Not yet, anyway. That will come later, I’m sure, when I’m in bed cringing as I think back over the day. But not yet.
Especially since his hand has been rubbing my shoulder in gentle circles with his thumb for a little while as we stand barely a foot apart....
“I’m really sorry,” I say, binning my tissue and rubbing my sore, puffy eyes, “I’ve been banging on…”
He smiles and shakes his head. “Forget it. Sounds like you needed it.”
Oh, that voice. It’s so deep and rumbly and...gentle. Like a panther's purr. I barely hide a sigh.
Then I see the clock.
“Oh!” It’s almost twenty minutes past closing time. “Bollocks. I, er…”
He follows my gaze to the clock face. “Don’t worry about it,” he assures me. “The others will have straightened it all out in there. If you give me a second to sort out my room, I’ll walk you home.”
“Oh, y-you don’t have to,” I mumble, but he gives me a steady look.
“I’m walking you home,” he says, quietly but firmly, and truth be told, I’d be grateful for the company tonight.
If that awful man from earlier is hanging around, I don’t want to be alone, and it would be even better to have someone as tall, built, and intimidating as Eli next to me.
I have to admit, although I always get butterflies around him, I feel absolute calm whenever he’s near.
Like nothing bad can happen to me on his watch.
It’s the strangest feeling, but I’m not complaining. At all.
Having settled that, he nods and wanders out of the kitchen, where he’s spent almost an hour and a half patiently listening to me pour my heart out, without so much as a whisper of complaint.
As if my crush on him needed to be intensified further.
Stop it, I scold myself. He’s not for you. He’s never going to be interested. Particularly after your dramatic outburst.
I hunch in a little on myself. This afternoon has brought up a lot of Gav stuff for me, and I can’t help but think about how angry he was with me whenever I was upset.
How he’d shout, and jeer, and slam doors, leaving me with my face damp from both my own tears and his spittle from his yelling directly in my face.
But not Eli.
He listened. He let me waste the rest of his work day...and not once did he snap at me to get to the point, or to get over it.
I almost don’t know what to do with myself.
He comes back pretty quickly, shrugging on his old, beaten up leather jacket, and I don’t think he could look hotter if he was actively trying.
“It’s OK, you really don’t have to,” I assure him, giving him one more chance to back out “It’s in the opposite direction from where you live.”
“I like walking,” he says with a grin, and he shakes his head. “You won’t persuade me not to,” he warns with a sexy one sided smile.
“OK,” I cave in happily, and wander through to reception to grab my things and pick up my coat.
A plant pot is missing, and I remember Sadie telling me that the arsehole broke it; bless her, she swept it up for me.
The whole place is pristine, and I feel such gratitude for their understanding - something that nobody else has ever shown me - that if I wasn’t almost dehydrated from crying so much, I’d well up again.
Eli unlocks the door and opens it for me, waving his hand to indicate that I should go first. The cool early evening breeze is refreshing, but also highlights how drained and tired I am.
I think about the night ahead, and the bath I’m going to run for myself, and the slab of Oreo Dairy Milk chocolate in my fridge, maybe the potential to have takeaway delivered if I’m still hungry.
Screw the calories. I don’t have to suffer the withering disapproval of my ex for occasionally eating unhealthily anymore, and every now and again I am going to enjoy the shit out of it.
“So,” Eli begins, “what are your plans for the rest of the night?” His natural stride is bigger than mine, but he matches my pace.
Briefly I consider telling him I’m doing something cool, like club hopping or a hot yoga class, but I don’t want to pretend I’m someone I’m not.
Not with Eli. Not after this afternoon. “Honestly? I’m going to have a bath, put on some Princess Leia pyjamas, have a takeout, and watch some Deep Space Nine.
” I risk a look at him, looking for the jeering expression I’m used to getting from people when I reveal my Trekkie tendencies. “I’m a terminal nerd, I’m afraid.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Terminal, huh?”
“Mmhmm. I’m a die hard Trekkie. And not just that.
I’m into all of the sci-fi shows. Battlestar Galactica.
Babylon 5. Stargate. And the movies, too.
I like Marvel movies, but I think DC has the edge with TV shows.
I watch the Arrowverse series in chronological order, episode by episode.
And,” I say, going in for the knockout punch for any chance that he’ll ever find me sexually attractive, “I used to play Dungeons and Dragons, before Gav put a stop to it. And I miss it. And I’d love to do it again. ”
“D&D?” he asks, perking up. “I used to play that when I was a teenager. I was always the Ranger. Human or Dwarf, usually.”
I stop walking.
“You’re kidding me,” I breathe.
“I am not,” he says, a chuckle lurking in his voice. “Played a Cleric once. Hated it. Went straight back to Ranger.” He looks at me, and one side of his mouth curls up in the most attractive smirk I have ever seen. “Don’t tell me, let me guess… You tend to play a Bard.”
I nod, slightly stunned that a man like him even knows what D&D is.
He doesn’t strike me as a fellow geek. “Always. Their skills are the best. I mean, I sometimes play a Sorcerer, but only to ring the changes. I mean...I used to.” I cannot seem to stop grinning.
Devastatingly handsome, incredibly kind, and into my guilty pleasure?
I may dissolve into lust filled girly mush right here in the twilight street.
He grins back at me. “We should get a Wishbone-only game going. I haven’t played in years, but it was always fun. Dean was pretty into it, too. And I’m sure Leo and Sadie’d be down. I don’t think they’ve played before, though.”
I nod, my mind racing with possibilities.
If he’s serious...I could run a game of The Curse of Strahd, the fifth edition, which is a campaign I’ve been dying to play, and looks new-player-friendly from what I’ve seen.
I squash it, taking care not to get carried away, but even the thought makes me so happy.
“We should,” I agree, trying not to sound too enthusiastic or to get my hopes up.
All too soon, we’re back at my flat. I wish I lived another five minutes away. And another five minutes away from that. Basically I would happily walk the streets with him all night, tired as I am, just because being around him makes me feel...good. So good, about everything.
“This is me,” I say, nodding at my front door, and he mutters something that sounds like, “Already”, but I can’t be sure. “Um...thanks for walking me back. I really appreciate it.” And I do.