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“Yes,again. And I'm telling you right now, lose the tone.”
“I just don't want you to see you get hurt, Georgie. That's all.”
“You don't have to worry. We're taking things slow, and he's been wonderful. Could you please relax about it?”
“Okay, I'll try. I want you to be happy.”
“I want you to be happy too.” She paused. “I know we agreed not to talk—”
“Don’t, Georgie. I asked you not to speak to me about her, and I meant it.”
“Fine, I won't tell you how miserable she is.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Please don't.”
“I'm sorry, that was a low blow. I'll leave it alone. For now.”
“Thanks. Go back to Matt and tell him I said hello. I'll catch up with you in the next day or two, all right? I might be doing some traveling again, but not for another week or so.”
“You’re running away.”
He grunted. “Thanks for pointing out the obvious.”
They said goodbye and he hung up, but he stayed at his desk and found himself ruminating over the new feeling that hovered over him like a cloud. His anger had morphed into something akin to sadness, or even grief. He missed Elizabeth, missed every single damn thing about her. Not seeing her all this time, not speaking to her... It was a physical ache, a gnawing in the pit of his stomach, and it wasn't getting better. It was getting worse by the day, by the hour, by the minute.
Recollections of the first morning they’d made love came tumbling into his mind, and he closed his eyes and sighed deeply, steeping in the memories. She’d been so sweet, so beautiful, so giving and trusting. Three days later, they’d confessed their love for each other.
Now look at where we are. Byhischoice, they were apart; he hadn’t spoken to her, hadn’t communicated in any way with her. Once again his gaze wandered to her picture, and Charles's voice echoed in his mind.
Why are you giving everything up?
* * *
Elizabethand her coworkers stared at the television on Monday morning, disbelief etched in their expressions as the meteorologist on the local news station showed the mass of wind swirling just southeast of the Bahamas.
“Tropical Storm Danielle is hurtling toward the Bahamas and is expected to reach hurricane strength in the overnight hours. We'll be watching the track closely to see how this developing storm may impact the east coast.”
“I can't freaking believe this!” Marie exclaimed. “A hurricane?Really?”
“Relax,” Paul said. “They don't even know the track yet. It could head for the tip of Florida or into the Gulf.”
“It could, but it won't. Did you see where it was? I'm telling you, conditions are ripe. We're gonna getslammed.”
“Stop being such a nervous nelly,” Elizabeth teased.
Truthfully, Elizabeth was worried as well. If this did turn into a hurricane and followed the projected track, she would have to go home. Her house was fully exposed and had barely made it through the hurricane that crashed into the Cape a decade ago.
“We just have to wait and watch,” she continued. “They'll have a better idea tomorrow. Come on, the van is here. We need to get moving.”
“Good morning, everyone,” Jason called out as the housemates piled into the van. He eyed Elizabeth, who was last in line, and stopped her before she climbed in.
“Have you been watching the weather?”
“Yes.”
“Does your family still own that cottage on the beach?”
“Yes—not that it's any concern of yours,” she said firmly but quietly, glancing into the van to make sure no one was listening.
“I just wanted to make sure you were aware of it, that's all. You don't have to bite my head off,” he said, his voice low.
Her eyebrows rose. “Nothing in my life, including that cottage, is any concern of yours. You did a great job four years ago of pretending I didn't exist. Why don't you try doing that again?”
With that, she climbed into the van and slammed the door behind her.
