“You disappeared,” I say quietly. “Do you know what that does to someone?”
His throat bobs. “Yeah. I do.”
“Then why?” my voice cracks despite my best efforts to keep my freaking emotions under control.
He looks down at the table, fingers curling into fists. He looks like he’s at war with himself, and damn me, I feel bad for him.
“Because I was scared,” he admits. “Because if I stayed, I would’ve chosen you. And I didn’t trust myself not to.”
The unexpected confession hits me square in the chest. The thought of him choosing me over something he’d worked for his entire life makes me both happy and devastated.
“That doesn’t make it better,” I whisper.
“I know,” he looks up again, eyes steady. “But it’s the truth.”
Silence settles between us, heavy with emotion. Like neither of us knows what to do or how to feel, and we’re just… lost.
I shake my head, pushing my chair back. “I can’t do this. Not right now.”
“Ellie, come on.”
I stand, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “Just leave me alone, okay?”
“Ellie,” he says as I turn away.
I hesitate, just for a moment.
“When are you going to admit to yourself that you’re kind of glad I’m here?”
Is he for real? Did he actually just ask me that? Right when I was starting to feel like he was human again?
“Never.”
With that, I walk out of the café before he can say anything else.
That night, the house is quiet in a way that feels intentional. I cook pasta for one and eat it standing at the counter, scrolling mindlessly through my phone. Jamie doesn’t come into the kitchen. I would think I was home alone if it weren’t for his car in the driveway. When I finally head upstairs, his door is closed.
Good.
I shower, change into pajamas, and crawl into bed, staring at the ceiling as the events of the day replay in my mind.
‘If I stayed, I would’ve chosen you.’
The words refuse to leave me alone. I squeeze my eyes shut. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change what happened. Love doesn’t excuse abandonment, and apologies don’t erase years of healing I had to do on my own. Still… my chest aches. Why am I like this? Why can’t I be more like Lainey? Or Gwen even. They would tell him to fuck right off, I know they would. Why is that so hard for me to do?
As I’m finally drifting toward sleep, a soft knock sounds at my door. My heart jumps straight into my throat.
I sit up quickly, every muscle tense. “What?”
“It’s me,” Jamie says quietly through the door. “I uh… I just wanted to let you know that I’m heading out early tomorrow. Away game. I won’t be back until late.”
Relief washes over me, swift and undeniable.
“Okay,” I say.
There’s a pause and I think he’s gone, but a moment later he says, “goodnight, Ellie.”
I don’t reply, I just wait until I hear his footsteps retreat down the hall and listen as his door latches shut.
