“Are you irritated?” I asked.
“Irritated?”
“That I’m trying to make up with Elijah? Despite what he did to you.”
She blew air out of her nose. “He didn’t do anything to me. Michael did. Elijah was only ever trying to help. You are definitely picking the better brother.”
I set my glass of wine, still half full, onto the end table and pulled one knee to my chest. “I might be picking him, but I’m not sure he’ll pick me back. I don’t know that he wants anything to do with me.”
“I’ve never seen him like anyone as much as he liked you. The way he looked at you, the way he held your hand, or touched your back. He’ll pick you, Sutton. I know it.”
“I hope you’re right.”
CHAPTER 46
I should text him. Tell him I am here. For him. Maybe he’d come back. For me.
These thoughts circled my brain as I lay on Tara’s couch later that night. Much like my apartment, hers was only a one-bedroom. She’d brought me sheets and blankets and a pillow when I’d insisted I sleep on the couch instead of sharing her bed like she’d offered. I knew I’d toss and turn tonight. She had to work in the morning. I wanted her to get sleep.
I lowered my phone without sending a message. Texting seemed so anticlimactic. How could I dramatically announce my presence if I texted him a warning first? But if he didn’t know I was here, I wouldn’t be able to announce my presence at all. Things didn’t always go exactly like I planned or imagined them, and I was learning to be okay with that.
I huffed out some air and raised my phone again, trying to think of the perfect text. It could not involve the wordtongue, I knew that much.
Elijah… I’m here. You’re not. If you’ll hear me out, I have things to say. But I’d love to do it in person. Are you coming home anytime soon?
I read the text at least ten times before I let myself hit send. When I finally did, my heart began beating a million miles per minute. Then I bit my lip and waited. Last time I’d sent him a late-night text, he responded almost immediately. This time there were no little blinking dots indicating he was writing back. There was only silence. And it stayed that way for however long it took me to accept that he wasn’t writing me back, at least not tonight. I rolled onto my side, set my phone on the carpet, and tried to sleep.
“Sorry, sorry,” Tara whispered as something in the adjoining kitchen clattered on the counter.
I cracked my eyes open. She stood, fitting a lid onto her travel coffee cup. “It’s okay,” I croaked. “Are you heading to work?” She wore her scrubs, and her purse was already strapped across her body. I sat up, adjusting the T-shirt I wore and running my fingers through my hair.
“I am, but you can stay as long as you need. I’ll leave you a key here, and if you’ll just put it in the plant outside my door when you leave… or maybe you’re staying longer? You’re welcome to stay as long as you want,” she rambled this out in one continuous stream of thought.
“No, I’m leaving. Probably. I need to if…” My eyes drifted down to my phone on the floor. It sat face up and no notifications were waiting for me. “Yeah, I’m leaving,” I finished through a tight throat.
“I’m sorry,” she said, scrunching her nose in sympathy.
“No, it’s fine. Grand gestures are kind of pointless when the other person isn’t around to see them.”
“You going to see your mom while you’re here?”
I thought about that question. “I don’t think so. I’m already in a terrible mood.”
She laughed.
I’d set a boundary with my mom, and I wasn’t going to feel guilty about it. I’d talked to her once this week, and she told me all about how happy she was to be back at work. I was glad for her. She had sounded happier.
After Tara left, I got up and brushed my teeth and got dressed. Then I cleaned Tara’s kitchen. It was already pretty clean, but I scrubbed out the microwave and wiped down the fronts of all the appliances. I was lingering. Waiting for a response to my text. It took way too long for me to admit I wasn’t getting one.
The Los Angeles traffic seemed insufferable at the end of my already-long drive. How did people live with this many humans and cars around them? How did I? I was suddenly dreaming of long stretches of empty roads bordered by orchids as far as the eye could see.
My phone rang through the car speakers, too loud, making me jump. I answered it with a tap on my steering wheel. “Raya, hi. Is everything okay?”
“No,” she said. “Where are you?”
“I’m about twenty minutes from you.”
“You’re almost home?” she asked. “I thought you would still be in Clovis.”
