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Chapter Twenty-Six
The door to Ella’s place opened a minute or so after he’d rung the bell, but to his surprise, it wasn’t Ella standing there, but Genevieve. Understanding dawned. “So, pretty much everybody’s heard about last night, huh?”
“You know it, jailbird,” she smirked, then reached down and picked her purse up from Ella’s entryway table. “I’ll head out and give you guys some privacy. Be nice to our girl, Valentine.”
He nodded in acknowledgement and she swept out past him. As he stepped into Ella’s living room, he smiled to himself. Our girl. He liked that.
“Ella?” he called, closing the door behind him.
She stepped out from the kitchen, and something about her manner immediately put him on high alert. She seemed vulnerable somehow. Shaky.
He rushed over to her. “What’s wrong? Did someone say something to you? Did someone hurt you?”
She started to laugh, and relief filled his still-tight chest. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be too bad if she was laughing about it.
She put a hand on his chest. “Oh, Donovan. You never miss a chance to leap to my defense.”
He put his hand over hers. “And I never will. But, why are you upset? Don’t bother denying it. I know you, Ell. I can tell.”
She nodded and became solemn, slipped her hand out from under his and moved to the couch. He followed behind her like a guard dog. She sat down and he sat right beside her. There was something in him that just wouldn’t allow her to suffer alone.
“Nothing happened, really,” she began. “It’s just thoughts. And feelings. I was up all last night, actually, with stuff just bouncing around my brain like pinballs.”
He stroked her hair back away from her forehead. “Tell me what you’re thinking, baby. What you’re feeling.”
She nodded. “We’re married, Donovan. Like, actually married. I don’t know why that hit me last night in particular, but it did.”
“Okay.” He thought about that for a moment, trying to understand what she was getting at. Finally, he shook his head in frustration. “Sorry. I’m dense, I guess. This isn’t news. Right?”
She shrugged. “I guess. I think all this time I was putting it in the mental category of a kooky mix-up, though. Like the kind of wacky shenanigans you might see on a dumb sitcom. But that’s not what this is. I’m realizing that now. We are actually, really married.”
“Yeah.”
“Bonded together. Legally. Spiritually, if you believe in that kind of thing. It’s not silly. It means something.”
“I know.”
She balled her hands up into fists and put them to her forehead, growling low in her throat. He put his hand on her knee and tried again. “Okay, Ells. Clearly there’s something I’m not getting here. I’m sorry.”
She lifted her face and looked at him. “I’m your wife, Donovan. You’re my husband. It’s real. We’re connected. I mean, do you realize that I’m technically entitled to half of your retirement? That’s real.”
His breath caught in his throat. “Ella, you can have all of my retirement. You can have anything I own. Everything I have is yours, if you want it.”
Her eyes filled and became unbearably sad. “Except you,” she whispered. “Your time. Your presence. You. Because you’ll still be getting on a plane when this thing is finished.”
He didn’t know what to say to that so he didn’t say anything.
Ironic, he thought. I’m so eager to protect her from anything that might hurt her. And the thing she needs the most protection from, the thing I’ve seen hurt her the most by far the entire time we’ve known each other, is me.
