Page 146 of Healing Eleanor

Ever since that night, fury has burned through my veins. I want to see Eleanor more than anything, but with my job hanging in the balance, it’s basically impossible.

When I head for the back door, a hand grabs my arm, stopping me. I turn to see Lily, her expression solemn, almost pleading.

“Nik,” she whispers. “Won’t you stay?”

I shrug her hand off. “I’m not staying. Get in your place and make Kasper proud,” I say flatly, forcing distance between us.

Lily’s brows pinch together. “Gosh, you’ve become such a jerk.”

Her words should sting, but they don’t. These last four weeks have stripped me of everything but the reminder of watching Eleanor spiral out of reach. I’m numb, a ghost wandering through life, unable to fix what I’ve watched crumble in front of me. And yet… every thought, every heartbeat, still carries her.

I walk down the empty hallway, the echo of my boots loud in the cavernous space. Every step is heavy, weighed down by the things I keep inside and the chances I didn’t take.

Eleanor.

Her name feels like fire in my chest and ice in my gut at the same time. I told her I loved her, and then I walked away, not knowing that would be the last time I saw her.

She hasn’t reached out. She hasn’t called. And part of me is furious at her for that, though I know it’s unfair. It’s not like I’ve done anything to make it easier. I can’t contact her, though I selfishly wish I could.

I think about the last time she looked at me before the fall, how her eyes lingered on mine with that spark, the same one that had made me want to protect her no matter what.

But now there’s distance, a chasm I don’t dare to cross. And it shakes me to my core. Because I know that once she heals, once she regains herself, she might not need me in the same way. And the thought of losing her—not to someone else, not to the world, but to think I’ve already lost her—is unbearable.

I clench my fists, the tension in my body nearly suffocating. I hate that I have no choice but to let her fall through my fingers. I hate that I have let myself be paralyzed by fear and anger. And most of all, I hate that she deserves better than me. At least, better than the version of me I am right now.

But even in the dark, even in the silence of my own self-recrimination, there’s a small, stubborn glimmer of hope. Maybe she’ll still let me in. Maybe I can earn her back. Maybe… I can prove to her that I’m not just a bystander in her life, that I can be the person she needs me to be.

I barely register the chill or the snow whipping around furiously outside. I climb into my car, crank the heater to full blast, and drive to one of the only places that brings me any kind of solace these days. Mama.

When I make it into her room, I fall into the same routine I’ve been doing every day for weeks. Coat off, sit in a chair, watch TV, talk, or stew in my own miserable silence.

But today, Mama seems to have other plans.

“Nikusha, you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” she says, placing her thin, fragile hand over mine.

I grab the remote, flipping through channels, not looking at her. “Do what to myself?” I ask, my voice flat. I haven’t told her all the details about Eleanor. Only that she fell, and that I haven’t seen her since. I can’t bear recounting what happened. I’ve been coming here each night, praying to shove Kasper’s ultimatum out of my mind. But it seems my shell has cracks, and it’s threatening to crumble completely.

“You know what I mean,” she chides softly. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been. It’s like you’re a ghost of yourself—I hardly recognize you. There’s something weighing you down, and I want you to tell me what it is.”

I tense, trying to pull away, but her hand stays. “I—” I stop, words failing me. All the fear, guilt, and anger swirling around Eleanor paralyzes me. I don’t know how to fix it.

“You love her, don’t you?” Her voice is gentle.

I whip my head toward her. “What?”

A small smirk tugs at her lips. “Eleanor. You love her?”

My face catches fire, and I’m suddenly grateful for the dim light in the room. I swallow hard, my throat tight. “I do.”

“That’s a start,” she says, clearing her throat. “Now tell me the rest.”

Panic seizes in my throat. I didn’t come here to confront anything. I’m here to escape. But maybe it’s time to face what I’ve been avoiding for so long.

When I finish recounting everything, Mama’s expression softens, tinged with sadness.

“And you haven’t gone to see her?”

I shake my head slowly. “I can’t.” My voice cracks. “Kasper would fire me if he found out, and then what?” I shrug, helpless. “Besides… I couldn’t fix her. What good would I be to her anyway?”