Something shatters in her expression. We stare at each other, the silence stretching just long enough for the realisation to hit: I’ve crossed a line.
“What about what I’m going through?” she whispers.
I blink. “What?”
She lets out a shaky breath. “I know I hijacked your trip a little. And I’m sorry, okay? I probably shouldn’t have come. But I hardly ever saw you when you were with Toby. I missed you.”
The anger drains out of me, fast and sickening.
“Elle…”
“I’ve been drowning too, Lil. My job was bleeding me dry. Do you think it’s fun, seeing how many marriages I can dismantle before lunch?” She shakes her head. “The Wizarding World is my reset button. It helps meescape, to breathe. Only…I have no one to share it with.” Her eyes fill, blinking fast even as the tears fall. “I really thought I’d have a couple of kids by now to torment with this stuff. But there’s only you.”
Regret hits me hard and fast. “Elle, if this is about…”
I can’t say it. But I don’t have to.
“I never even met her,” she whispers. “And I know it’s been years, but…that’s the day I stopped feeling alive.” She sniffles. “Quitting my job was the best decision I ever made. I know I’ll have to go back to reality eventually, but for now…I thought this was good. Being here. With you.” She turns, eyes wet and searching. “Has it really been that bad having me here?”
“No, of course not. I just…Jack—tonight—” I choke. “I didn’t realise you were hurting so much.”
But I should have. I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t think it would bring her to tears. I was so wrapped up in my own pain I missed all of hers.
“Anyway, I guess that’s the road trip cancelled,” she mumbles. “I don’t know what I was thinking, dragging you along to something so…stupid.”
“No, don’t say that.” I reach for her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “I want to go with you. I really do. I’m sorry if I made it sound like I didn’t.”
She removes the keys from the ignition but makes no move to get out. “It’s fine. I’m the one who should be sorry. I didn’t mean to make this about me. Tonight, or any of it. You’ve got your own problems to deal with.”
“I’m still here for you, Elle. If you want to talk about it…”
“I don’t. I just need togrow up.”
I wince at hearing my words said back to me.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” I say, staring down at my hands.
She doesn’t reply.
I want to apologise again, but it wouldn’t do any good. I’m not even sure who hurt who anymore, only that it’s left us both feeling crummy.
Today was the emotional whiplash I didn’t need.
The car has grown stuffy, airless, crowded with everything we’ve said—and everything we haven’t. I can’t stand it—not after hurting her. I need air. I need space.
I get out, swinging my guitar case over the back, and stride away from the cottage.
“Where are you going?” Ellenor calls.
“A walk. Just to the beach.”
“But it’s going to rain.”
“It’s not going to rain,” I argue. I don’t care what the sky’s doing, and the distant sulky clouds on the horizon don’t scare me. I’ve seen uglier black things barrel over Manly. “I just need a few minutes to clear my head.”
“Don’t go far,” she says as we get out of the car.
“I won’t,” I reply, but I already know it’s not true. I’m going to walk that beach until I find something—anything—that will drown out tonight. Anything to escape feeling like this.
