AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Maybe what I need to do is burst the bubble. Just go say hello to Elliot. Maybe that’s what will allow my mind to get back to work.
My pulse rate turns up another notch as I approach his office, and my grip on my water bottle tightens. I have no clue what to say, no plan, no idea how he might react. But I can start with “Hi” and take it from there.
Greta is visible first, sitting at her desk, a walking stick leaning against it. She looks up as I approach. “Hi, Charlotte. If you’re looking for Elliot, he’s working from home.”
“Oh.” Is that sinking in my insides relief or disappointment? “How come? I’ve never known him do that before.”
“Yeah.” She adjusts the brace around her wrist. “He’s been doing it pretty often these last few weeks. Only been in for a handful of half days.”
He’s avoiding me.
“Anything I can do for you?” she asks. “Or would you like me to ask him to do something?”
Suddenly, the idea of walking away from Elliot’s office is the hardest thing in the world. It’s not him—he’s not there—but it’s his space, it’s full of his belongings, and it makes me feel close to him.
Now I’m like those damn elevator doors. I don’t want to budge.
“Oh, no, that’s okay,” I tell Greta. But the drive to be in there, among his things, is overwhelming. “Just think I left something in his office the other day. Would you mind if I quickly look for it?”
“Be my guest,” she says. “It should be easier to find now I’ve tidied up all the piles of paperwork he accumulated while I was away.”
I smile at her as I open the door. “He missed you.”
“And I missed him,” she says. “Never had a better boss. And never met a man I couldn’t fault before.”
My mouth opens but my brain manages to intervene and stop me from saying, “Me neither.”
Stepping into the office is like stepping into my memories. I can almost see him sitting at the desk, looking at me over his three giant monitors and pushing his glasses up his nose.
Just the thought of it brings a flutter to my belly and a smile to my lips.
There, by the desk, is the recycling bin I threw up in. Ugh. My cheeks heat even though there’s no one here to be embarrassed in front of.
I drag my fingertips along the back of the sofa and stand in the sunny patch on the carpet where the warm light streams in. For a second, I close my eyes and let the rays wash over me. My imagination takes over and conjures him slowly walking up behind me, circling my waist with those arms, and dipping his mouth to my neck.
Slowly, it dawns on me that I’ve actually tipped my head to one side for this fantasy kiss. I’m being utterly ridiculous. Opening my eyes, I yank myself back to reality.
The pile of computer junk in the corner is less than half the size it was when I was last here. And the box on top of the Pac-Man machine is gone. There’s a thin sheen of dust on the controls though—a sure sign he hasn’t been here for a while.
All his plants look perky, except for the fern on the end table by the sofa—the one that smashed on the floor that day. I run its long blue-green leaves through my hand—they’re dry and in need of some care—and stroke my fingertips over Elliot’s neat writing on the little wood label that says “keep moist.”
Then I unscrew the lid of my water bottle, and give it a little love.
32
ELLIOT
Ishake the watering can to drain the last drops into the rex begonia on my kitchen windowsill.
Now all the houseplants have been watered, fed, and where necessary re-potted, what else can I do that doesn’t require the use of my brain?
The gray matter needs a day of rest after being pounded by work every second since Charlotte chose her job over me, sliced a chunk out of my heart, and limped off across my parents’ lawn with it.
For the first two weeks, I went to the San Francisco office. The developers out there had a problem tweaking one of our products to make it comply with new privacy regulations, and I knew I could throw myself into that for a few days. Did I need to be there to help? No. But I figured the change of scene would help take my mind off Charlotte. Did it work? No. But at least I tried, and I did solve the code issue.
In the two weeks since I’ve been back home, I’ve twice been to Indiana to see how First Byte is coming along, visited my parents once, and gone to the gym twice a day.
Maybe if I keep moving, my brain won’t have time to think of Charlotte, my gut won’t be able to twist, and I won’t notice the clawing in my chest.
