“It would be fun to storm a castle,” I say with a mouth full of popcorn.
The credits roll and we snuggle up on the couch—Frankie retreated to her tower halfway through the movie.
“So, how was the rest of your day?” I ask, thinking back to this morning when she wasn’t in our faculty meeting and canceled her morning sessions. I don’t want to pester her, but I can’t help myself from thinking that our meeting with Mr. Clinton spooked her.
If she was spooked, she wasn’t letting on, but of course I was worrying about it all day and jumped at the chance to hang out when she asked to come over and watch the movie. Any chance I get to hang out with Ellie, I want it. And after that awkward meeting with our boss I felt the need to hang out a little more, so I didn’t hesitate.
“It was alright. I had to run a few errands so I rearranged my schedule. How was yours?” Her voice lingers, like she’s asking about something specific.
I release a breath. “Can I be honest?”
She sits up straight and faces me. “I would prefer you were.”
“I was worried about you all day,” I say it fast and glance from the corner of my eye to see if I can read her expression. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. She doesn’tlookuncomfortable so I go on, “I’m afraid the meeting with Clinton upset you or something.”
“Oh.” She bites her lip and fidgets with the blanket tassel.Crap.Proceed with caution.
“I’m just—umm—wanting to make sure you are alright,” I say.
No response. She continues twirling the blanket tassel between her fingers, not responding. God, how long do I let the silence go on? Why isn’t she saying anything?
Alright, let’s not make a big deal about this, Ben. You’re just figuring it out, figuringherout. This is how relationships go, you have to learn how to communicate. Patience is key.
Another millisecond goes by. “Are you—” I stand up abruptly and ask, “you know, alright?”Way to be patient.
“Are you?” She peers at me like I’m a crazy man.
Honestly, I probably look like one as I pace back and forth in my living room.
“Me? Yeah—yeah, sure.” I look at the ceiling, too nervous to look her in the eye. Tension is building in my neck so I rub it.
“Are you sure?” She giggles, as I stay staring at the ceiling.
A small yellow spot in the corner grabs my attention. “I must have a leak.”
“Huh, maybe.” She probably saw it too, or she is just really good at ignoring weird behavior as I keep stare at the ceiling.
A moment passes, then I hear the blanket hit the floor followed by the leather on my couch squeak and rub. I can see Ellie stand up from the corner of my eye and watch as she goes into the kitchen and puts the empty popcorn bowl away. Is she avoiding this conversation? Did I make her uncomfortable?
“I have a hard time sharing my own feelings sometimes,” she calls to me from the kitchen sink, scrubbing the butter from the inside of the bowl. “Most days I just process things on my own, but I’m trying to not do that now.”
I turn my attention away from the ceiling to face her. She’s looking out of my kitchen window, bowl still in hand, covered in soap. I don’t want to spook her so I wait for her to keep going. I’m crazy about this woman, but also aware of her boundaries. As much as I want to scoop her up, kiss her from head to toe, and tell her she can share anything with me, that might not be what she needs right now.
“The meeting with Mr. Clinton was upsetting for me, yes,” she whispers.
“Why?” I ask urgently, not wanting her to ever be upset.
“Because I didn’t think all of this through.” Her eyes dart to me then back to the window.Where is she going with this?
“I just think—that maybe we—”Oh no.Is she about to end things? “Didn’t think things through.”
“Are you breaking up with me?” I whisper, my throat feels like acid.
“What?” Her eyes fix on me, a seriousness to her voice I haven’t heard from her before.
“Are you . . . ?” My voice trails off.
SMASH!
