Chapter 12 #2
Eli would probably murder me if he knew what I was thinking of doing, and it’s not something I would normally even consider, but I want him to be happy.
He’s seriously good to me, better than worthless shit like me deserves, and I owe him more than I can ever repay, even in two lifetimes.
He deserves to be happy with someone who gets him, and damn it, I’m going to see it happen, even if it means sticking my nose in where it isn’t wanted.
Even if it means breaking a confidence.
Screw it.
Emily
He’s retreated to his studio, and he doesn’t seek me out for the rest of the morning, which is a relief, but also makes my mood slither downwards.
As uncomfortable and infuriating as the discussion was, we do need to sort this out.
We passed each other in the back corridor mid-morning, and it was precisely as awkward as you’d imagine.
I just kept my eyes trained on the floor as we passed each other.
I heard him sigh, but he said nothing, apparently as much at a loss for words as me.
Leo, observant as ever, has noticed, and he’s plainly concerned.
He keeps glancing at me out of the corner of his eye and trying to jolly me along with wisecracks and funny comments about last night.
I try to join in, and I appreciate his efforts, but I wish he’d stop.
I wish he could just send me home early so I could escape this atmosphere I’ve caused.
Part of me wants to just tell Eli to forget everything I’ve said and apologise, just to put an end to it.
But that's an old, bad habit of mine, and I’m pretty sure it’s too late to backtrack now.
Dean is watching me, too, when he comes through to collect his client, but his expression is more thoughtful, his gaze narrower.
I wish I knew what he was thinking. Probably sees his cousin is down in the dumps and thinks I’m a shit human being for causing it.
Well, fine; I’m upset, too, and that's allowed.
I’m just completing a new booking in his calendar when my phone pings with an instant message from him via Google Hangouts.
Dean: Did Eli ever tell you he was married before?
I blink. No, I didn’t know that.
I pause for long moments, wanting to ask a million questions but wondering if I should instead say a more polite version of, ‘so what?’ for the sake of saving face. But no. I keep it simple, but he has my undivided attention.
Me: No
My heart starts thudding. Eli had a wife?
Who was she? Where is she now? Did he love her?
Stupid question, of COURSE he did. Eli wouldn’t marry anyone he didn’t love; he’s too honest for that.
I bet she was everything I’m not. I bet she was beautiful, and sweet, and sexy, and smart as a whip, and utterly sure of herself.
I’m picturing Scarlett Johansson as Black Widow levels of stunning.
She must have been something truly special to have gotten to marry him.
Dimly, I wonder why it didn’t work out, why anyone lucky enough to marry such a great guy would let him slip through her fingers.
Because he is a great guy. My heart sinks slowly to the soles of my feet, even more dejection setting in as I watch the three dots indicating Dean is typing flicker across the screen.
The impatience builds until I’m clutching my mobile so hard I’m surprised I haven’t cracked the screen.
Dean: Yeah. They were married for about two years, maybe? Divorced for the last three.
Me: That’s sad
I worry my lower lip with my fingers. I’m sorry Eli had to go through a divorce. He doesn’t deserve that.
The three dots dance along the bottom of the screen again.
Dean: Nah. She was a heartless bitch who destroyed his self-esteem and nearly ruined his entire life. The divorce was the second best thing that ever happened to him.
I flinch, and my stomach clenches. Even the notion of anyone hurting Eli fills me with outrage.
Underneath the somewhat introverted and gruff exterior is the kindest man I know; I only need to recall how gentle and sweet he was during my panic meltdown to know that.
I’ve never fully understood why he seems to keep some people at a distance.
I thought maybe it was because he’s always thrown in direct contrast with Leo, the living embodiment of extroverted charisma, but perhaps there is something to it.
Perhaps it’s a defence mechanism.
Many wayward strands start to fall into place and add up. Like how he studiously ignores the way some of his clients - even the most gorgeous, sexy, confident women - come on to him.
My phone pings again.
Dean: I’d say the first best thing that’s ever happened to him was meeting you, but y’all seem upset this morning.
I wince.
Dean: It’s none of my business, and I don’t want to pry. But I DO want to see him happy, because he’s a good guy and deserves it. And you’re a great person, too. You suit each other.
I bite my lip. This is obviously awkward bordering on inappropriate to discuss him behind his back with a member of his family, but I have to admit I’m desperate. Particularly now I know he’s got this history which might explain how things went last night.
I go for it before I can change my mind.
Me: That’s sweet, but...I’m not sure he’s that into me
Me: He made a move last night but then he backed right off when I responded and tried to turn it up a notch. I don’t know if I pushed him too hard or what. I’m so confused. And kind of hurt. And very, very embarrassed.
My gut fills with butterflies. I really shouldn’t be doing this. But Dean brought it up. And I might actually learn something.
Three dots dance on the screen once more.
Dean: That he backed off doesn't altogether surprise me.
I blink, waiting for more dots to turn into sentences. I’m hanging on Dean’s every word. Please, I think, just tell me what I’m missing.
Dean: So, the thing you gotta bear in mind is, Charmaine (aka Evil Ex Wife) said some terrible things to him when she left.
The kind of things that make a man feel worthless.
And he fully expected to never be in a relationship again because he took her words to heart and believed they were all true.
So he shut down. I’ll be honest, though: even before he closed himself off, I’ve never seen him like this about a woman the way he is about you, not even Charmaine, and I know it’s really not my place to do this but I’m full on pleading with you not to give up on him because you are not a regular occurrence for him.
My heart aches.
Dean: I know you’ve got scars from your past. Please consider that he has his own, too.
The fact that he tried last night is HUGE.
Never thought he’d put himself out there ever again.
This means you are special, honey. Very special to him indeed, more than you know.
I don’t know what he said or did last night, but I’m really hoping y’all can get past it.
I know I shouldn’t be getting involved, but.
..please talk to him? Betcha anything it can be straightened out ;)
I rest my forehead on my hands.
I’ve been so short sighted. He always seems so solid and together. I never even considered he had his own dark past, his own burdens. I feel sick at the idea that I’ve apparently only been considering myself this entire time.
I think back over last night, how maybe he really did just want to slow things down, pace himself as much as me, before going further.
Maybe it wasn’t truly a rejection after all.
I still think he could have handled it better, because the laughing wasn't great, but that may have just been nerves, and I’m suddenly determined to hear him out.
Maybe there’s hope. If I can just find it in me to have one moment of outstanding bravery and take that leap of faith and talk it out honestly… I might get the answers I need.
Almost a hundred miles away, a man with long hair and a bushy beard pulls his van over in a secluded spot for his lunch break.
The field next to him is newly ploughed, and the smell of freshly dug earth fills the air.
He's been hard at it all morning delivering pallets, and his left shoulder aches. He's not in the best of moods.
He checks his lunch bag and mutters grumpily to himself.
Dumbass bitch is back on her health kick shit again.
Never shoulda married her. What kind of a fucking lunch is cucumber sticks and low fat houmous for a hardworking man?
What kind of a wife thinks this is acceptable?
Even his most naive side piece would make him a decent sandwich, at the very least. Fuck's sake.
He checks his phone, and there's a voicemail from his younger brother.
Probably more crap about his piece of shit ex girlfriend, Emily.
Why Gav can't just let it go is puzzling.
She was cute, sure, but not the greatest piece of ass the man has ever seen.
Not by a long shot. Rolling his eyes, he starts to listen.
"Rich? You'll never fucking believe this.
That CUNT told Kayleigh that she's 'one hundred percent happier' without me!
That does it. This shit has gone on long enough.
I'm bringing that bitch home and teaching her a lesson she'll never forget.
Call me, I need your help figuring this out. I still can't find her."
The man sneers. Fucking right. She may be a ten a penny whore whose opinion counts for less than nothing, but disrespect like that is another matter entirely. That just can't be tolerated. It's about time that vindictive little cow had a lesson in manners and gratitude.
So he texts his brother back:
Meet you at yours tonight and we'll make a plan. We'll sort the little shit out, don't you worry.