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“Oh, sorry. I forgot my phone…Sarah, right?” He smiles nicely at me.
I furrow my brows. “No…Madeline,” I answer politely, giving him a tight smile.
“Oh, wrong chick. My bad.” He lets out an obnoxious chuckle before he grabs his phone and leaves.
My heart felt tight. Who is Sarah?
My first instinct is to leave and wallow in my embarrassment, jealousy and anger. But I know that is a childish thing to do. I trust Elliot…I know I do. But I can’t help but feel doubtful at this moment. The overwhelming feelings I feel for him remind me that feelings aren’t enough to build a foundation in a relationship. It reminds me of how new this is and how I’ve only known this version of Elliot for such a short time.
And that realization makes me nervous.
I try to keep reading but I can’t see the words on my screen anymore. I ponder my concerns and try to form some conversation points in my head for the next few minutes. Elliot comes back then. His hair is still damp and he deposits his clothes in a laundry basket in his closet. He smiles at me and I try my best to return one. He stops in his tracks and looks at me. His brow furrows as if he instantly knows something is wrong. Worry quickly fills his eyes.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He asks.
I don’t answer right away because I’m not sure how to start this conversation in a productive way. “I met Maverick,” I say.
“Did he do something?” His eyes darken.
“No, he didn’t do anything,” I say quickly. “He just…he called me Sarah, and I corrected him…but—”
The anger in his expression leaves only to be replaced with nervousness. His face pales slightly. “Oh.”
“So…not trying to pry or overstep…but who is Sarah?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even.
He looks down and I watch his chest rise and fall while he is trying to come up with his answer. His silence drives me crazy.
“Was she a girl you were seeing?” I ask, trying to help him. He nods his head curtly. I take a deep breath. “Okay.”
I wait for him to say something, anything. I wait for any kind of reassurance or explanation. He doesn’t offer any. He just stands there looking extremely uncomfortable and insanely guilty. “When did you start seeing her?” I ask softly. I try to stay calm, knowing that he most likely isn’t trying to be rude or aloof…but he doesn’t know how to navigate situations like this. He doesn’t know how to navigate his feelings or how to express them.
He clears his throat and says gruffly, “Only saw her…a couple of times, a few weeks ago.”
Only saw her a couple of times… Okay, I understand that enough.
“In here?” I ask sadly. He finally looks at me, apology in his eyes. I stand up from his bed immediately, clasping my hands in front of me to keep them from shaking and fidgeting.
“Okay,” I say in a small voice, still waiting for some reassurance.
He opens his mouth to say something but shuts it again. “I—” He starts and then stops, rubbing his face harshly and runs his hand through his damp hair.
“Do you want me to go?” I ask.
His eyes snap back to me, fear in his eyes. “No…of course not…” There are several feet of distance between us, but I feel that gap growing larger and larger as this discomfort takes over.
“I know…that you have a hard time communicating how you are feeling. Maybe it’s gotten easier these past few days with…more pleasant emotions…but it’s also important to communicate feelings when they’re not so pleasant…” I try to explain while keeping my voice clear and free of my own emotions.
He nods his head fast. “I know…I—”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for…we both had lives and relationships before each other. I am not one to preach about this at all because I was involved with Lucas like five minutes ago…but I could really use some affirmation and assurance because I’m feeling really insecure right now.” I look at him. He looks back at me, with heartbreak in his expression. “I know we’re still figuring each other out…this is so new…and we’re learning how to communicate with each other…but I can’t carry the weight of communication on my own…”
“I’m…I’m sorry, Madeline…” He starts. “We have…a class together…and we would, we would hang out…just a couple of times…” He clears his throat again. “I haven’t seen her outside…of class…in a few weeks. I swear.”
“I believe you.” I give him a timid smile. He closes the space between us and stands in front of me, moving his hand as if to hold mine but changes his mind and lets it fall to his side. His breathing is very quick and I can tell he is scared.
“She’s the only one I’ve…hung out…with…here…” He shuts his eyes in a grimace and then opens them again in apology. “It didn’t mean…it didn’t mean anything.”
I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, trying not to envision or picture anything, but it is really hard not to. I remember the anger on his face when he saw me kiss Lucas. I am fighting to keep that same anger hidden. “We haven’t had the awkward ex’s talk…so…this is just uncomfortable,” I say with a weak smile. He keeps staring at me.
