“No. It—”
“Eat your breakfast before it goes cold.” She cuts me off and removes the cover from the tray.
I stare at the much smaller spread and I’m lost for words. I never reveal too much. It took years for a relentless Jackie to find out the details of what happened after Harvard. There’s never been anyone to pick up thingsabout me so quickly. With no context. While I’ve been the worst version of myself, and she was going through a heartbreak and her life was turned upside down.
Eliza read me and I didn’t even realize. This is more than our bargain. She did it for me.
The bowl with yogurt and fresh berries has the same flowery pattern as the plate with egg whites and vegetables on whole-grain bread.
And there’s the tea again. I hold the stripped cup to gather my thoughts and take a sip as a reflex. The liquid doesn’t taste like a wrestler’s bathwater. The delicious warm brew coats my insides, and my shoulders drop the tension that’s been pulling at my muscles for the past few weeks.
But it’s the small quirk of the corner of her mouth that is enough to make me drink a barrel of her tea if it means we can go back to our usual mornings.
“This tea isn’t store-bought.” I point to the jar on the counter.
She sways from one foot to the other, uncertain and confused that I’ve said something inoffensive. I’d rather have a root canal without anesthesia than get that reaction. We’re not friends, she doesn’t have to like me, but there’s no point in being an asshole.
“It’s from my friend’s garden. She lived next door to my last family, and I helped her tend the herb patch.” She smiles, probably imagining the place. “She taught me how to dry them and make tea blends. I give my friends a custom mix each Christmas…” She pauses as a wave of sadness crosses her face. “This year there will be four bags less to worry about.” Her voice is low, talking mostly to herself.
She shakes her head to banish the intrusive thoughts and inhales the wispy steam of her cup, her long lashesdrifting down. Today she braided her hair to one side, giving me the perfect view of her delicate neck, contracting with every swallow.
“This one is my favorite. Lemon grass, ginger, chamomile…” She names the ingredients animatedly until she remembers who she’s talking to, and her voice dissipates into silence.
I’m bracing to make a real apology. It’s not something that comes easy. My father always said only weak men apologized and the Rawlings were never wrong. I’m so out of practice I jump right into it, without warning.
“I know it’s not an excuse,” I huff. “I’m going through a rough time, and it has turned me into a person who talks out of his ass.”
Eliza’s snort loosens the knot of anxiety a little more and I keep going.
“I had no right to tell you those things. Completely out of line.” I knock on the wooden surface, unsatisfied because it’s not enough. “You must think I’m a rich New Yorker who doesn’t realize how real life works.”
I lock my gaze with hers because I want Eliza to know I mean it. The banter is all fun and games, but the low blow about the mess in her life…My mother would be appalled.
That adorable blush finds its way up her neck and catches her cheeks. She rolls her lips and the hesitation in her demeanor is completely called for. It’s irritating, nonetheless. She hugs her willowy frame, trying to comfort herself. The gesture speaks of something so lonely. The uncomfortable pull to my insides doesn’tlet up.
I round the island to her side, where she is sitting on the barstool, and she has to look up at me. This is not a performative apology. I’m uncomfortable seeing her hurt for some reason, and I can’t explain why, but I need her to know. I’m not making fun of her situation.
I didn’t realize how close I’d got until her breath hitches slightly, brushing my neck. It rattles something inside me, but I have to stay on track.
“I do, but I got so used to the way people in my world get their problems fixed. I didn’t pause to consider you have nothing in common with them.”
“Uh, obviously.” The blush spreading from her cheeks to her ears unsettles me this time. I didn’t mean to point out she’s not well off.
I’m out of practice with apologies, but this comes so easily. I place my hand over hers in a gesture of reassurance, taking us both by surprise. Those warm eyes widen, two pools of molten bronze. She’s so close I can smell the lavender from the shower gel I’ll never admit I used a couple of times and taste the sweet tea in her breath.
“I’m not talking money, OK?” I add hastily. “You’re a nice person, a thing I can’t say about most of my acquaintances.”
I want her to tell me she understands so we can get back to being the most unlikely roommates and she can pester me with questions while I rile her up.
Before Eliza has the chance to answer, the sound of the driveway’s gravel crunching under the wheels of a car stiffens her back, horror blooming on her face.
Chapter Ten
ELIZA
The familiar deep rumble of my truck freezes the blood in my veins when the old brakes grind to a stop, piercing the heavy silence of the cabin.
So many things happened this week, my mind managed to skip over some important details. Including the fact that Jared was supposed to come back Wednesday night. He’s been home for two days already. It took him two whole days to come and talk to me. That’s how much respect and consideration this man thinks I deserve after eight years together.
