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My face falls.
“Of all the people in the world, I couldn’t believe it. I told you the next day. You found out the very next day that Edgar was me,” he replies calmly.
“Why are you so honest with Pinkie?”
“Because she is easy to talk to . . . she doesn’t judge me. She is my friend.”
“So . . . you lie to me?”
“I knew I was talking to you, I never lied to you. Not once. I told you I was going to France to see her.”
“But you didn’t tell me,” I yell in outrage. “You knew I couldn’t say anything.”
“Because you were lying to me all along,” he cries. “And you fucking know it.”
I drop my head, this is pointless. I sit on the couch and he falls to the floor on his knees in front of me. “Nothing happened with her, I promise you. Not even a kiss.”
My eyes hold his.
Is that true?
“Kate.” He sighs sadly. “If I didn’t go, I would’ve always had that what if in the back of my mind.”
“I know. So . . .” I pause as I try to get the wording right in my head. “You spent the week with her?”
“No. We had the dinner and she made it quite clear that she wanted . . . more.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. Do I even want to hear this?
“All I could think about . . . was you,” he whispers. “I knew I’d done the wrong thing, but I also knew that I had to go to her and find out. I couldn’t make a future with someone and always have a doubt in the back of my mind. It was a double-edged sword, Kate. I did what I thought I had to do.”
I drop my head; don’t cry.
“There was no connection with her, nothing at all.” His eyes search mine. “I swear to you—”
“What if there was?” I interrupt. “What if there was a connection, Elliot? Where would I be now?”
“There wasn’t.”
“But there could have been.”
He exhales heavily. “You’re not listening to me.”
“And you didn’t answer my question. Where were you all week?” I ask.
“I told her that nothing was happening, that I had someone back home.”
“Something that you should have thought of before you went to her,” I cry, still outraged.
“I’m here now,” he yells as he holds his hands out wide. “I’m yours, Kate.”
Are you?
“I took the week to think,” he continues. “I needed to clear my head.”
My eyes rise to his and the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. “About what?”
“About life.”
“You mean . . . about falling for someone who’s average.”
He inhales sharply and I know I hit the nail on the head.
My eyes well with tears. “I’m not your fairy tale, Elliot,” I whisper.
“Yes, you are.” He stands. “It’s all bullshit. All along I thought I had to have signs. I thought that my gut would lead me to my soulmate.”
Oh . . . this man hurts me. I drop my head, unable to look at him.
“Kate, we hated each other for years.” He takes my face in his hand and he dusts his thumb back and forth over my bottom lip. “You can’t blame me for wondering if it was the real thing, or simply a physical attraction. You had to have had the same concerns.”
My heart drops.
Never once.
I force a nod; I just want this conversation over.
He falls to his knees in front of me again and looks up. “I love you.” He kisses me softly. “We can fix this. We can start again, and this time we know it’s the real thing. Nobody makes me feel like you do, Kate.”
More lies.
I pull back from his kiss. “I need a shower.”
He smiles as he holds me in his arms. “Yes, let’s take a shower.”
“Elliot, I’ve had the worst day in history and I’m tired. Can we talk about this tomorrow, please?”
“Okay.” He nods as he pulls me to my feet. “You’re right, we have all the time in the world.”
He leads me into the bathroom and turns the shower on. He slowly undresses me and I get in under the water.
I shower in a daze, somewhere between heartache and relief.
Now, I know.
I get out and he dries me with a towel as he showers me in kisses. “Thank God, you’re here,” he whispers. “I thought I lost you.”
I stare at him in a detached state: is he for real?
He thinks he can say a few pretty words and all is well between us?
I feel nothing . . . I’m dead inside. It’s like I’m talking to a stranger, one that I don’t even like.
Whatever we had is gone.
We get into his bed and our lips touch; his kiss deepens and I pull out of it. “Tomorrow, babe,” I whisper. “I’m not in the mood tonight. Honestly, I’m just too emotionally exhausted.”
