I patted my mouth with a napkin before I leaned back in my seat. Then I asked the question that seemed to be on repeat in my mind. “Why?”
“Why what?”
Gah! I wanted to throw my fork at him. Why was he answering all my questions with questions? It was frustrating as hell.
Instead, I took a steadying breath and asked for the information I truly wanted to know. “Why did you decide to purchase the gallery with Marcus after the way things ended? Why would you want to work with me every day when it’s clear that I need time to move on?” I paused, dropping my eyes to my plate. “Don’t you realize that it’s hurting me to see you every day after…”
I hated the hesitancy in my voice, but I had to be honest. It was the only way to make him understand. Elijah leaned forward, setting his glass aside and sliding his hand across the table toward me. I looked up at him then and winced at the expression on his face. I kept my body away from the table. Away from his hand.
“No, Gigi. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”
“Then, why are you doing this?” I asked. My voice cracked.
“I made a mistake.”
“Buying the gallery was a mistake?” Now, I was really fucking confused.
Elijah shook his head. “No. I made a mistake that last night at your apartment. I should never have said the things I did.”
“If you were being honest, you should?—”
“I wasn’t being honest. Not with myself, and not with you.”
I gaped at him. I had no response for that admission.
He looked down at the table, his fingers fiddling with the napkin in front of him. “When we saw each other after the wedding, that’s what I thought I wanted. What I expected. But the longer I was with you, the less I wanted what I always had.”
“Then why did you—” I cut myself off. I almost asked him why he broke my heart. He didn’t need to hear that. My heart was my responsibility.
“I told myself that I wasn’t ready for anything serious. That you were too young for me.”
I almost scoffed at that. Eleven years wasn’t that large of an age difference, and we both knew it.
“The truth is that I don’t know how to do this, Gigi. I don’t know how to be in a healthy relationship. My parents were…” He paused, as though he was searching for the right words. “They were not good role models in terms of commitment. There was cheating, yelling, fighting, and a lot of toxicity before they finally divorced. After that, it didn’t get much better because they both moved on to other partners, and the cycle began again. They were both incredibly dysfunctional. It didn’t help that I managed to end up in a relationship with a woman named Sydney. Our dynamic was a great deal like theirs during college. I should have seen the red flags when we first got together, but I thought those traits were just normal.”
I found myself nodding as he spoke. Though I’d never experienced it myself, I understood what he was trying to explain.
“After Sydney, I decided I wasn’t going to put myself through any of that again. I was done with relationships. Friends with benefits or casual flings from there on out.”
I couldn’t control my flinch at his words. I opened my mouth to say I understood—that we didn’t have to continue this conversation, but he shook his head.
“Please, Gigi. Let me finish.”
I took a deep breath and nodded.
Elijah sighed. “Then, I started spending time with you. You were so…different from the women I had flings with and from Sydney. From my parents. You were always honest about what you thought and what you felt. You don’t play games or manipulate.” He laughed softly. “Being with you was the most peaceful I’ve ever felt. It was like finding my home at thirty-six years old. And to be blunt, it scared the shit out of me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You were everything I didn’t know that I needed, and I had no idea how to be the kind of man you deserved. I knew I was going to fuck it up. Maybe not right away. Maybe not even in a year or two. But eventually.”
He was saying exactly what I expected a commitment-phobe to say. My skepticism rose.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “So, what changed in the past few weeks?”
I didn’t even try to hide my disbelief. Elijah’s jaw clenched as he studied me, but instead of getting angry, he seemed to deflate.
“I realized that I was never going to have a happy life if I didn’t figure my shit out. I found a therapist, and I’ve had several virtual sessions now. I’m learning some things about myself. And about how to be a good partner.”
