Chapter 27 Madelina #2
My eyelids have grown heavy from the lack of sleep, and my head pounds with a relentless ache. Even if I wanted to sleep, my mind won’t settle.
Suddenly, a surge of urgency forces me up. I need to see Elliot and talk about tonight, with no more secrets or lies, just a raw conversation with all our cards on the table.
I throw on my hoodie since the air is cool, and I can’t be bothered changing out of my midriff top.
My movements become instinctive as I frantically search for my keys, finally finding them nestled in the depths of my bag.
With determination coursing through my veins, I make the drive over to Peppermint Lake with no one on the roads but lonely ol’ me.
As I pull my car onto the coarse dirt beside the water, nothing but darkness greets me. All the lights on the boat are out, and either Elliot is sleeping or didn’t come back here.
For all I know, he’s already flown back to Paris.
The soft lapping of the water against the boat muffles my footsteps. I reach the stern and catch sight of Elliot staring into the water with a glass in his hand. As I move in closer, I see a bottle beside him, already empty.
Just like me, Elliot doesn’t look like he has slept. He’s wearing his clothes from earlier, and his hair is a mess of wild curls.
I sit next to him, but purposely keep my distance, noticing the dark circles that have settled beneath his eyes. Every part of me aches to touch him, the constant battle at the forefront of my mind, but I remind myself not to succumb to my weakness.
“What happened last night?” I ask faintly, eyeing the bruised knuckles of his hand.
Elliot swirls the glass, then brings it to his lips, finishing it in one go. Given he’s finished what appears to be an entire bottle, the last remnants don’t affect him whatsoever.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had brunch with him?” His voice is tight, every word laced with simmering anger. “You lied to me, Madelina.”
The question catches me off guard. Is that what this is all about?
“I… I was trying to process everything,” I stammer.
“Process how he wants to marry you… again?” he challenges, the accusation hanging heavy between us.
“Do you know what it feels like to have to hear this from someone else and not you? Do you know what it feels like to think the woman you’ve fallen in love with is considering marrying her ex… again?”
I bite my lip, emotions swirling inside me.
Elliot has fallen in love with me? His vulnerable words continue to play in my head.
I should be jumping for joy, wrapping my arms around Elliot and telling him I’ve fallen in love, too.
But instead, the wall between us continues to grow and now it feels like surrounding it is also a barbed-wired fence.
Just one look at Elliot’s angered expression is enough to know his guard is up and nothing will get through to him.
“Elliot… I found myself in a bizarre situation, and I didn’t know how to respond.
The last thing I expected was for Myles to want to elope, especially after I humiliated him and his family.
Just because I didn’t say anything, doesn’t mean I wanted to get back with him.
No, it was because I didn’t—and still don’t—know how to process how I feel about you. ”
Elliot drops his head between his legs, running his hands through his hair with frustration.
“All I am is a rebound,” Elliot murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper and filled with a heart-wrenching pain.
I throw my hands up in the air, willing the ache inside my chest to disappear. “Is that what you think? If you think you’re a rebound, then wouldn’t that make me a rebound, too? You came to Cinnamon Springs to escape Nicole.”
“Then, if that’s all we are to each other…”
“I’m in love with you, Elliot, and it fucking hurts.
” My voice trembles as I lay my heart on the line.
“I wasn’t supposed to fall in love so soon after everything with Myles, but I did.
I’m sick of hiding it, sick of burying my feelings because I’m scared you’ll run.
This game we’re playing has to come to an end.
It hurts, okay? I love you, but it hurts. ”
Silence settles in the air between us, and only the sounds of branches rustling in the breeze echo around the boat.
Elliot gazes blankly at the water, his jaw clenched, each muscle in his body visibly tense. “They want me in Saint-Tropez in a week as the executive chef for a new restaurant.”
My mind spins, the gravity of his statement freezing me to the spot. “What? You’re leaving for France?” The shock in my voice is raw, tinged with a deep, gnawing hurt. “When were you going to tell me?”
Elliot avoids my gaze for a moment, but then he angles his face, allowing his blue eyes to lock onto mine with a silent plea in their depths. “I need to do this, Madelina.”
I jump to my feet, my arms crossing defensively over my chest, as if that can shield me from the pain he’s purposely inflicting. “So, that’s it? You tell me you’re in love with me and then bolt off to France?”
In an instant, Elliot stands. His expression softens and he reaches out, cradling my face in his hands.
His touch ignites my skin like a wildfire, both intoxicating and torturous.
I swallow hard, a lump lodged deep in my throat, as tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
I realize just how far I’ve fallen for a man who never intended to stay in the first place.
“Please, Bugs. Understand that I need to do this for me,” he implores, his voice a hushed whisper that barely cuts through my despair.
“If I stay, I’m scared I’ll resent not at least trying to chase what I’ve wanted for the longest time.
I worked hard, sacrificed so much to get recognized in France.
This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. ”
I immerse myself in the depths of his blue eyes, letting warmth envelop me one last time, a fleeting illusion of comfort. I had thought that leaving Myles at the altar would be the hardest thing I’d ever have to do.
But this? This is a hundred times harder.
It fucking hurts, and I hate him for making me bleed for him.
Slowly, I pry his hands from my face. “Then understand, I never want to see you again, Elliot.” I take a step back, creating the necessary distance even though my heart feels like it’s being yanked from my chest. Each step away from him tightens the grip of anguish, suffocating me.
This is our ending, our finale, our final chapter.
Our story is officially over.
The moment I disembark from the boat, I fumble for my phone, my hands trembling as I type out a message to my father through tear-blurred vision. The resentment is driving me to the depths of despair. If he hadn’t gotten involved, I wouldn’t be standing here right now in the worst pain of my life.
Me
We’re done. Game over, you’ve won. You’ve successfully lost everyone who loved you.
With a quick tap, I block his number, severing the last thread that connects us.
The damage is done.
My heart feels as if it has shattered into a million jagged pieces, each one cutting deeper than the last. Inside my car, I press my forehead against the steering wheel. The sobs rack my body like violent waves crashing against the shore, my breath hitching painfully with each suppressed cry.
This pain is crippling me.
Once again, I have to start over.