“I don’t know if I’m going to get it,” I whisper. Even if we’re both single now, I don’t know if Eleanor and I can piece ourselves back together.
“I think you will,” she says simply. “I know soulmates when I see them. And anyone who has been around y’all for two seconds could figure out the two of you are the textbook definition of soulmates. You’ll get it. Buck up.”
“I really hope you get whatyouwant,” I say, pulling her into a hug. “I’m sorry it ended like this.”
“I’m not,” She pats me on the cheek before adding, “I get to tell everyone that I broke up with you. That makes me feel much better.”
Chuckling, I give her one more squeeze before heading for the door. “Feel free to talk as much shit about me as you want. You’ve earned it.”
“Don’t you fret, honey,” she says, a warm smile on her face. “I’m already rehearsing my vitriol in my head. Go get your girl.”
I shake my head in amusement, tossing my key into the bowl on the entryway table and stepping out of Madison’s apartment for the last time, her words echoing in my head.
Just because it didn’t last doesn’t mean we didn’t gain anything from it.
I didn’t realize just how true that was until she said it out loud. I gained so much in my time with her–probably more than I know.
No one is ever going to fill the Ellie-shaped hole in your heart.
She’s right. Eleanor has had my heart from the very beginning, and no matter how much she infuriates me, no matter how many times she runs away, I’m never going to stop chasing her. I’ll never stop waiting for her to be ready to come home.
You didn’t waste my time, honey.
For years, I’ve been bitter. Carrying around misery, stubbornly holding on to a grudge in the hopes that anger might drown out the constant ache I have for Eleanor. Told myself over and over that she wasted my time and tried to hate her for it. But Madison and Jack were both right. Nothing about my time with Eleanor was wasted.
In my truck, I lean my head against my folded arms, the steering wheel holding my weight up. I can’t fight it anymore. I still love her as easy as breathing, and I need her like the air in my lungs. But even if we never work it out,even if she never loves me back again, it’ll have been worth it.
But God, what I wouldn’t give for a life where we work out.
Chapter 51
Ellie
November, Age 28
Ineed to get my nails done before this weekend.
Staring down at the nails I’ve ripped to the point of bleeding, I absentmindedly pull my phone out to schedule a manicure appointment for tomorrow morning. My nervous system is thanking me for the brief reprieve–for even thirty seconds not spent hyperfocused on the front door of the coffee shop. Every time the bell rings, I jolt like I’ve been hit with a taser. Not that I actually know what being tased feels like, but I’d imagine it’s something close to this.
I jerk in my seat as the bell chimes again, and this time my muscles donotunclench as Griffin walks over to me. I’m so anxious that it barely registers how unfairly good-looking he is right now–especially considering I’m on hour 36 of the hangover from hell and look like the third step in an Animorphs transformation.
He pulls out the chair across the table from me, sliding in smoothly and crossing his ankle over the opposite knee. “Howdy, Eleanor.”
“Hi, Griffin,” I mumble, my focus back on shredding the nail on my right thumb. “Thanks for meeting me.”
“Of course. Wouldn’t miss a chance to see you, darlin’.”
I look up at him, my eyes narrowing suspiciously. If there’s any sarcasm or contempt there, I can’t find it. His tone is sincere, and his eyes are twinkling like he’s trying to suppress a smile. A far cry from the face I shouted at a few nights ago.
“I didn’t expect you to respond, let alone show up. I’m kind of surprised, actually.”
The spot between his eyes creases as he furrows his brows. “Why is that?”
“I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, Griffin,” I joke, “But the last time I saw you, we were screaming at each other in a parking lot.”
“Oh, that was you?” His eyes light up fully, the smile he was fighting breaking through. “I thought it was someone else. That makes more sense now.”
“Yeah, I wish I could say it wasn’t me, but it sure was,” I say, smiling sheepishly. “Hell hath no fury like Tequila Ellie.” I lean forward, resting my forearms on the table andlocking my eyes on his. “And I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for everything.”
