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“Rhylan, what are you doing here?”
“I came here to see you.”
I look up at him with pleading eyes. I want him to stop. I’m no longer just drowning, I’m sinking down a bottomless pit, and my heart can’t take it anymore. After listening to his message, I just want to move on. I want to go on with my life and forget everything that happened between us. Even if I know I’ll never forget, I still have to try.
His absence allowed me to see a future where my wounds would leave deep, distinct scars. Scars that would have served as a reminder of him and what we had.
“You can’t come around expecting me to drop everything for you,” I answer. My shoulders slump, so utterly exhausted. “You can’t do this to me, Rhylan.” My entire body trembles.
“Ellie, is everything okay?” I hear Kevin’s voice from behind me. He looks at Rhylan and realizes who he is. “Holy shit. You’re…”
Rhylan keeps his eyes on the ground, ignoring Kevin completely. He lifts his face to speak before letting Kevin finish.
“Eleanor, can we just talk?” He looks behind me, staring blankly ahead. Then his eyes come into focus with mine. “Please.”
I’m just convincing myself to walk back inside when I start to notice the swarm of people gathered around Rhylan’s car getting larger. People start pulling out their phones and taking pictures, flashing away, not even realizing how much of an impact those photos would have on Rhylan’s life, just like the ones of us did.
I start to panic. I understand what this means to Rhylan’s career. Being pictured with the girl that everyone deemed insignificant and a stain on his otherwise strong reputation. But while the commotion grows, Rhylan keeps his eyes on me.
He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about all the people around him or what will come of the dozens of pictures that are sure to surface within the next couple of days. He doesn’t care what will become of his career.
He only cares about me. About us.
“Ellie,” he says, barely making a sound as he whispers my name again.
I stop him, holding my hands in front of him before he says anything else. I push myself through the crowd and swiftly walk towards his car to sit in the passenger seat, no longer able to handle the pressure of the crowd closing in on us. He unflinchingly follows and closes the door behind me, walks around his hood to the driver’s side, and gets in. Shifting the gears of the car, he speeds out of the parking lot and leaves the dumbfounded crowd behind us.
We sit in silence. I clutch the straps to my worn-out purse in my closed fists, the tension rising in my chest. I wish I could say all of the things I want to, but I can’t.
I want to ask him why he left me, why it was so easy for him to disappear with only the words of resentment to send me off, why he had pushed me away. I want to ask him why he’s come for me after all this time, expecting me to jump into his arms as if I’ve been waiting for him to change his mind. I want to yell at him. I want to hold him, kiss him, and tell him that I forgive him. I don’t know how to tell him all this, so instead, I stay quiet.
“I’m sorry I just showed up like this.”
“No, you aren’t,” I spit back. I don’t even think. The words just come out. He looks at me, the honesty of my words slicing through him. “If you were in the least bit sorry, you wouldn’t have come.”
He looks straight ahead, his lips forming a grim line.
“Where are you taking me?”
He stays quiet for a long time. Too long. I cross my arms, frustrated.
“I just wanted to talk to you. Just give me five minutes. That’s it. And if you never want to speak to me again, I’ll leave you alone,” he pleads.
My bitter silence is my answer. That thread of hope intertwined with curiosity cuts through me, forcing me to stay quiet instead of telling him to turn around or take me home like I should. I want to give up and throw in the towel, but I don’t know how.
FORTY-FOUR
RHYLAN
The dark clouds above us look ominous and menacing, telling us that a storm is on its way. The drive to my house is completely silent but full of an air that’s screaming every word between us that Ellie wants to say. And I want to listen, to hear her words so that I can finally fix this. Ineedto fix this.
Every time I steal a glance in her direction, her face changes. When we first drove off, she looked angry, frustrated, trying to tamper down every harsh word she wanted to throw at me. Now, as the car moves towards my house, her face changes to worry. Stress is written all over her body with her wrung-out hands and scrunched brows.
A thunderous clap booms above us, and somehow the clouds are even darker. But I keep driving past the looming storm.
When we finally drive through the iron gates of my house and pull to a stop on the driveway, I kill the engine. The silence is even louder without the hum of the engine.
“Why are we here, Rhylan?”
