With forced leisure, I dig for my phone trapped in the blanket. It weighs a million pounds in my hand, but all that weight disperses when I read his response.
Oh, pretty girl, you’re going to be the death of me.
Scarlett Dane
CHAPTER XVII
I wake up to the sun streaming through the open window.Wives with Knivesstill plays in the background, with my headboard lights twinkling in the sunshine.
The weight of drowsiness weighs down my eyelids, making them impossible to hold open against the bright light. For a while, with sleep still keeping me under, I lie confused. I never fall asleep with my lights on, and definitely not the television, so what happened last night?
I’m questioning it when I rub my hand down my face and feel my warm phone sitting on my chest. Suddenly the night comes flashing back and all the emotions that came with it.
I stayed up for hours texting with Mr. Ellis, letting the butterflies keep me awake as he asked me question after question about myself. He wanted to know my passions and ambitions, what drove me in life… what I dream about when I go to sleep. He didn’t ask me any of those menial or meaningless questions teenage boys tend to ask. Who cares what my favorite color is? Mr. Ellis wanted to know what scent reminds me of home.
The ocean, early in the morning, just as the sun breaks the horizon and the clouds fade away from the water's surface, there’s an ethereal freshness in the air. It’s unlike anything you could imagine, surrounded by centuries-old Redwoods, with freezing saltwater splashing against your toes. You’re transported somewhere only your dreams can take you to.
You make it sound like heaven.
It’s better than that.I reminisced about my early morning runs on the isolated sandy shore.
It turns out Mr. Ellis grew up two thousand miles from me in Harris, Connecticut. He didn’t spend much time at the beaches, too busy being raised by a strict father who demanded he focus all his time on his studies. Apparently, he was supposed to be a corporate lawyer, the same as his father and grandfathers before.
It wasn’t for me, which pissed my father off to no end.
He found his love for history when he was a child, preferring to study the damages caused by the civil war and how it affects humanity today.
Most people don’t understand the point of history. They think that it’s all dates and dead people. But most can’t seem to comprehend that the past is never truly gone. It’s meant as a warning for what could come.
I never thought of it that way, and without Theodore, I don’t know if I ever would. Of course, I would like to blame my lack of interest on the teachers who weren’t as passionate about the subject as Mr. Ellis. But I know that wouldn’t be true.
None of themwereMr. Ellis. Turns out that was all I needed.
I don’t know if this was uncomfortable for him, but I asked about his wife. What kind of woman she is? Where did they meet? But what I really wanted to know is how she treated him.
Is she kind?
Loving?
Am I better than her?
From what he said, I know I am.
My wife and I met in college. She was a business major. After a year of dating, I asked her to marry me, despite my family's advice.
They didn’t like her?
His response wasn’t one I was expecting.They didn’t trust her.
I didn’t ask why. Not because it wasn’t my place, but because I didn’t want him to think I was prying into his relationship. No man wants that, especially not with the girl he’s texting in the middle of the night.
Is she there with you? Right now?I dropped the phone to my chest and held it there, closing my eyes as I waited for his answer.
No.The response came immediately.
I remember hiding under the covers, blankets thrown over my head, with the vigorous thump of my heart striking against my chest, and the only question I wanted to ask was if he loved her.
Because if he did, why did he kiss me?
