"Eloise," she replied.
He nodded.
Man of few words. Which could be good or bad, depending on how he used his silence.
Some people mistake silence for benign behavior and thoughts, when really, silence in the wrong hands can be one of the most malignant organisms.
"Ursula and I have a long history," she started slowly, then closed her mouth pursing the words inside. How does one feel out the man wooing a close friend she only recently got back? She thought of the one who had left traces of self-doubt and insecurity on her friend. She thought about her own silent war with him and how no one had won.
"I don't have much in the way of rights when it comes to warning people away from hurting her."
"She talked about you," Jenson said and the words made her eyebrows raise. He leaned his forearms onto the island. "You were her person, the one that got away. The great regret and loss."
Her heart warmed.
His dark eyes caught hers as he said, "The way she talked about you, you have every right where her heart is concerned."
She smelled wood stain and coffee grounds just when they've bloomed, and she wasn't sure if he knew the gift he'd just handed her.
"And now I'm here."
He nodded once. "And now you're here."
"She spent too much time letting someone not love her," she said softly, the words drenched in sorrow.
And she wondered if he picked up on the smell of warning she infused.
He watched her, his own head tilting. "I'll screw up from time to time, but I will make sure she never questions that from me."
She let the words settle, the meaning, hung between them.
"There's fresh coffee. I make really good coffee."
She nodded to the still half-full french press and the mug that looked like it had been carved from wood magically sitting next to it. After he poured a steaming portion into it he sat next to her.
There they settled, two souls who had a common love binding something between them.
"This is really good," he said, looking into the cup.
"Yeah," she replied. "I have a way with food and ingredients. I bet I could even make poison taste good."
She slid a look to him. His dark eyes studied hers silently as her words swirled around the warm kitchen. The half smirk on his face as he lifted the cup to his lips was an agreement.
"Noted."
"And?" Ursula asked bringing Eloise back to this moment. She and Jenson had gotten along since that morning, laughing and getting to know each other. She made sure to make him a cup of coffee whenever he was there.
"And I don't think I'll have to kill him," she responded with a mischievous smile.
Ursula laughed and lay her head on Eloise's shoulder this time. "Thank you," she spoke the words so softly, like they had come from another time.
Silence spoke between the two friends as they sat in the dim glow of the warm kitchen and sipped their sleepy tea.
Ursula wanted to ask her friend what she had run from.
Eloise wanted to tell her, but it always got stuck in her throat like a poorly swallowed pill.
But no matter what was left unsaid between these old friends, there was a satin ribbon that wove around and between them that tethered and grounded them.
