If you’re sick, here’s soup and crackers and a book.
If it’s the time of the month, here’s chocolate and romance books.
Then, I added a third note.I donated money to the reading centers in your name.
I put them together and would set them outside her door tomorrow morning.
Not five minutes after eight am, Charlie called me for help with Lizzie. He had to go meet with his lawyer about custody issues and was freaking out. Two hours, max, he said, before dropping her off at the apartment building. He’d barely set her outside the door before hugging her and driving away. I’d just wokenup, was grumpy after a shit night of sleep, and the last thing I wanted was to be upbeat and chatty.
And Lizzie was both of those things. Majorly.
We stood in the lobby, waiting for the elevator to arrive when the door to Elle’s place opened.No!The gifts were still upstairs. I scanned her, seeing if she was pale or gave any indication she was sick. She seemed okay, just flushed cheeks. But her eyes. God. They were sad. She hadn’t seen me yet, but her shoulders were slumped, and I wanted to hug her, to fix everything. I didn’t know how though. There wasn’t one thing that would mend what had changed—she’d said we were just friends. I was Mr. Three-Nights and her the romantic. She wore a white dress that landed above her knees, and her hair hung down in curls. She looked gorgeous, and my heart stuttered in my chest.
Where is she going? With who?
“Cal, Cal, please?” Lizzie said my name, pulling me out of my Elle trance.
I didn’t even hear what she’d asked, but Elle must’ve heard Lizzie too because she spun around so fast. Her eyes widened, and she took in the scene. Her pouty lips were turned down, but when she realized Lizzie was there, she grinned. “Hi, Lizzie!”
“Elle!” Lizzie gave her a hug, still holding onto her stuffed unicorn. Elle squeezed her back, getting onto her knees to be eye level.
“What are you doing here, sweetie?” Her gaze landed on me. “Hanging with your cool cousin, Cal?”
“Dad had a meeting.”
“Ah, I see.” Elle stood, her cheeks reddening as she glanced at the floor. “Well, enjoy what—”
“Come play with us!” Lizzie tugged her hand, clearly not picking up on the sad vibes from Elle.
“Oh, she’s busy.” She wanted space from me, and I fucking hated it. I’d respect it, but it killed me. I shook my head. “She doesn’t feel well, Lizzie, another day.”
“Please?” Lizzie pulled Elle’s hand toward the now open elevator doors. “We’re gonna watch TV and color.”
Elle glanced at me, a frown on her pretty lips, and instead of putting up the shield I’d seen the last two days, she let me see all of her. Sad, worried, vulnerable. “I don’t know, hon. I don’t think I can today.”
“Are you feeling any better?” I asked, wanting her to continue talking to us.
She glanced at the floor, moving her left foot side to side on the tile. She wore a toe ring, the bling charming me even more to her. “A bit, yeah.”
She wouldn’t look at me. It hurt. “Elle, I’m not…if you want to hang out with us, you can. I thought you needed space.”
“Please!” Lizzie said again, grabbing Elle’s hand.
“I can get doughnuts or those croissants you love,” I said, needing her to agree to this. If she said no and turned Lizzie down, I was screwed. “But only if you want to. You look busy.”
“Oh.” She glanced at her outfit, like it surprised her. “I was gonna meet up with some writers because, uh, I was feeling better.” She shuffled her weight side to side, head hung low. She was the walking definition of guilty.
So, she feltfinebut was avoiding me. The truth punched me in the gut.
She didn’t want me. Plain and simple.
“See, Lizzie, she can’t.” My voice came out louder, my irritation and worry at her avoiding me taking over. “I’mgladyou’re doing better.”
“No, I can. I can.” She righted her posture and smiled at Lizzie. “Let’s go color. I bet your dad would like some pictures to hang up at work.”
She beamed at her, then marched into the elevator. Elle followed, her perfume reminding me of home. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. I stared at her, daring her to admit she’d lied to me about not feeling well. I knew she needed distance, butwhy? If nothing had changed and we were just friends, why did she want space from me?
Elle and Lizzie chatted about their favorite animals, Lizzie’s being horses and Elle’s obviously an owl. For whatever reason, it fit Elle’s personality perfectly. My pulse raced all the way through my fingertips, and I was desperate for Charlie to get back so we could finally have a talk. A real one. Because she was avoiding me but felt guilty enough about it to come up with Lizzie.
