Page 71 of Hate You to Love You

‘Yeah,’ I agree. ‘We should go.’

We take our time walking back to the hotel, letting ourselves go with the flow wherever the streets take us. Every corner has a pub that is pulsating with energy and live music. I’ve never seen so many people enjoying a night out. Their happiness radiates into the atmosphere, washing over us.

Turning around another corner, we join a crowd of pedestrians who have stopped to watch a live band playing a cover of ‘Torn’ by Natalie Imbruglia. We haven’t said anything since leaving the bar, and as the first guitar strums of the song drop, I notice Elliot begin to sway to the beat of the music. His smile gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling in my heart. Either that, or the cosmo is giving me acid reflux.

The band moves on to a cover of ‘Yellow’ by Coldplay. As they do, I feel Elliot’s shoulder resting against mine. This time I don’t feel an urge to pull away. For a moment, I pretend that it’s three years ago. Everything that happened since… hasn’t happened. Dad is still alive, waiting for me at home, ready to hear all about what I’m going to write in this article. Elliot and I have a bright future together. And when I get back, Laney, Sal and Jones will make time to fill me in on what they’ve been up to. For that split second, I’m happy.

The song ends, breaking my daydream. I’m about to break away from Elliot, but he stands next to me for a few more seconds. Eventually, he steps forward and grabs a handful of change from his pocket and places it in the open guitar case in front of the band. I follow his lead and we make our way back to the hotel. Our elevator ride up to our separate floors is coated in silence. It’s as if we’re both afraid that any words we speak could send us past a point of no return.

We arrive at my floor first, the doors open and I step out.

‘This is me,’ I say awkwardly.

‘Well, goodnight,’ he replies, like a shy teenager at the end of a first date.

I raise my hand in a wave and start walking towards my room. Then, a sudden thud makes me turn back towards the elevator. Elliot has stopped the doors from closing with his arm.

‘Wait!’ he calls out.

I pause. A pang in my heart tells me to run back down the hallway towards him. But I refrain from making any rash decisions and stand there frozen.

‘Thank you for today,’ he calls out.

‘Thanks for trusting me with the truth,’ I tell him.

Elliot continues to linger in the elevator. I wonder if he’s waiting for me to join him. But before I can make my decision, the doors shut, leaving me alone in the hallway. And as regret washes over me, I finally acknowledge something I’ve been trying to push down. I’ve fallen for him all over again. I want Elliot back.

chapter thirty-three

then

Dad’s collapse means we’re unable to make our flight to New York, and instead we spend a night at a local hospital. The pain subsides over the next day, and Dad is discharged, insisting that it’s just a bad reaction to all the deep-fried food we’ve been eating. Mum decides we should extend our stay in Seattle to wait for his stomach to settle.

And while there are days when he almost seems to be back to normal, there are others when the pain comes back worse than before. It takes over a week for his stomach pain to dissipate. Both Mum and I decide it’s too risky to keep travelling, and together we make the call to return to Sydney.

Mum is adamant that Dad sees a doctor as soon as we’re back. But he shrugs the whole incident off as a wake-up call to change his diet.

‘Too much oily and fatty food. I’m only eating fresh from now on,’ he tells us one evening.

Mum relents, and for a while they both seem invigorated by their new-found focus on health. Things go back to normal for me. Well, as normal as they can be. I’m adrift and, without the trip to distract me, everything reminds me of Elliot. So, I try to focus on work as much as possible. Since the trip was cut short, I have a lot more time to put towards writing.

But no matter how much I try to enjoy things, like nights back at the terrace with the gang, I can’t seem to allow myself to truly feel happy.

Things go further downhill when Laney announces that she’s leaving The Terrace to move in with Patrick. She’s ready to take the next step in their relationship and see if they can survive living together.

‘I can’t believe you’re really leaving us,’ Jones says on her last night.

‘It’s the end of an era.’ Sal pulls her in for a hug, seemingly not wanting to let her go.

‘All good things must come to an end, I guess,’ I add, doing my best to keep the mood light.

We’re on the roof of The Terrace, and it’s hitting me that this will probably be one of the last times that we’re up here together. Laney will still visit, of course, but it won’t be the same. It’s the start of something much bigger – a slow drift away from this time in our lives.

‘This doesn’t have to be the end,’ Laney says, sipping her wine. ‘It just means all our hangouts will be a little bit more meaningful.’

‘You better still come to The Henson every Monday,’ Jones threatens.

‘They’ll have to ban me before I ever stop going there!’ Laney laughs and looks out towards the city with a smile.