“Yeah, El. It’s really not a big deal, and, like Natalie said, it doesn’t even feel like I’m their boss.” My hand is pulled from my lap and intertwined with Patrick’s, and the jealousy goes away as quickly as it came up. “I just feel lucky I have such a good team to work with.”
The night is pleasant as we all chat and eat our meals that are surprisingly delicious despite coming from a hotel. Everyone is so involved that the conversation doesn’t stop until after dessert. It’s clear that Wes is starting to get restless by the way he bounces his legs beneath the table, and when I notice that I also need a break, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom.
While sitting in the stall, I finally take a minute to catch my breath.
Social interaction can be overwhelming at times, but tonight hasn’t been too bad especially when I have Patrick looking out for me. Every time I reached out to him for comfort while we were at the table, he more than happily obliged—basically holding my hand the whole night. My reminiscing gets interrupted by a rush of voices entering the bathroom.
I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but I also don't try to leave the stall. From the noises echoing in the small space, it sounds like a group of three or four women, chatting and touching up their make-up in the mirror. I don’t know who is talking, but there is enough said to know that they work for the same company as Patrick.
“Ugh, these work things are such a drab. I’m just here because they’re paying for everything.” Her high-pitched voice drones on. “And we got a half day.”
Her friend replies, trying to get in on the complaining. “Yeah it’s not bad, but I would’ve rather been on a vacation without everyone from the office.”
“Me too, girl. At least our company isn’t completely full of ugly, middle-aged men.” The third woman adds, and they laugh.
“I know, right? I mean did you see Patrick tonight? He could have me any day of the week.” I hold my breath as the high-pitched woman talks about my boyfriend. Well, my fake boyfriend.
“Yeah, he looked so fine. It’s such a shame he has that girlfriend.”
“She’s not even that cute.” My breath gets stuck in my throat.
“Honestly! Ugh, I didn’t even know he was dating anyone until he brought her to happy hour! If she wasn’t here, I would’ve asked to go see his hotel room and let him—” Their conversation gets cut off as they walk out of the bathroom.
It feels like it has been minutes by the time I finally find the courage to make my way out of the stall. Standing in front of the sink, I turn the water on and look in the mirror. There are tears forming in my eyes, but I haven’t allowed them to fall. The old Ellie would go upstairs and hide away in the hotel room for the rest of the weekend. The old Ellie would binge eat her way through the room service menu to make herself feel better. The old Ellie would cry over the phone to Nick who would offersome kind words to build my self-esteem back up. But, I’m not the old Ellie anymore. I’m not going to let these random women dictate how I feel about myself, and I’m definitely not going to let them ruin my night.
I’ve come a long way from a couple years ago, but I still have a lot of hang ups. Mean words don’t hurt me like they used to, but I’d be lying if I said they didn’t hurt a little bit.
People have different opinions, and I can’t expect everyone to like me or the way I look. It’s difficult not to care about this gossip too much, but the idea that I’m keeping Patrick from being with somebody he could have a future with is like a heavy weight in my chest. I try to shake the feeling, but the thoughts stay lingering in the back of my mind as I walk out of the bathroom.
By the time I get back, Wes and Natalie have already left along with almost everyone else who was at the dinner. The room is mostly full of wait staff, picking up half-empty dessert plates and stacking chairs with Patrick sitting patiently at our table. He looks ridiculously handsome leaning back in the chair, scrolling through his phone without a care in the world.
“So, why don’t you have a girlfriend?” I didn’t plan on asking him so abruptly, but it just slips out. There is no way he knows about the thoughts that have been circulating after overhearing those women, so the surprised expression on his face makes sense. But, when I realize how absurd I’m being asking about his dating life, I start to babble, “I just mean—you’re a very attractive guy and you have a lot of things going for you. You’re funny and considerate and kind. It doesn’t really make sense that you’re not seeing anyone. I mean, I don’t want tooverstep, but I’ve noticed the way that some of your coworkers look at you. I think that they would give you a chance—”
I trail off, noticing the way that Patrick is looking at me.
The corners of his lips turn up slightly, revealing a devilish smile. “You think I’m attractive?”
“Of course that is all you heard out of that. Yes, Patrick. Obviously I think you’re attractive. I’m not blind. You’re handsome and tall and you look like you work out—”
In the middle of my long winded statement, I reach out to grab my phone from the table and accidentally knock over an almost full glass of water. Some of it spills on the table, but most ends up in Patrick’s lap. My heart instantly drops into my stomach, and I can’t breathe. It’s been a while since I’ve had a panic attack, but it’s still familiar enough that I know it’s coming. My brain starts replaying flashbacks of my ex, and I immediately go into a defensive spiral.
“Oh my god. I am so sorry!” I grab a napkin off the table and start dabbing Patrick’s pants. “I ruined your shorts. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
Frantic apologies spill out of me as I brace myself for his reaction. The yelling. The anger. The snide comments, like telling me that I am an idiot and a clutz. My hands start trembling, and I can’t find a breath.
“Ellie, stop apologizing. It’s fine. Just a little accident.” He looks at me with honest concern, but I still can’t think straight. Everything feels like too much. “El, are you okay?”
“Yes, no. Um, I’m not sure.” My hands are full-on shaking now, and I can feel the tears coming.
“Hey, look at me, El. Take a deep breath.” He reaches out to hold my hands, and I flinch slightly before I let him touch me. His voice is reassuring and calm, but it takes a couple of seconds for my body to catch up to what I’m hearing. My chest heaves with an inward gasp, but my breathing is nowhere near as consistent as it should be. “Everything is okay. I’m just a little wet. Well, a lot wet, but nothing is ruined. Look at me. My shorts will dry, and I will live. Please, El, listen to me. I wouldn’t lie about this. It’s going to be okay.”
As my mind races, I have to remind myself that Patrick is not like him. My breaths begin to regulate, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off of me. He gives me the silence I need to compose myself, but my hands are still in his. The tight squeeze of his fingers grounding me.
Everything is going to be okay.
Chapter 20
Patrick
