“No. Not yet.”
“Mitch, you know better.” The worry and concern in her gaze make me feel bad for not taking better care of myself.
Val’s scoff has both of us turning back toward her.
“Look, I didn’t come to stay. And I’m damn sure not taking care of you.” Val flips her hair over her shoulder and walks past us toward the door. “And while you’re over here playing out your little fantasy that will never come true,” she makes sure to cut her gaze to me. “You need to figure something out with Jacob. My flight leaves in two hours.”
With those last words, she walked out of my home, slamming the door behind her.
“What is she talking about?”
At this point, I’ve been on my feet too long and the room spins. I step away from Ella and head over to the couch. Plopping down with a low groan, I lean my head back and shut my eyes.
“I asked her to keep Jacob today, but she can’t. She has plans, apparently. It’s okay, I’ll just rest for a bit and get up when he comes home.”
“Um, no, you won’t.”
I don’t open my eyes to see her, but her voice grows closer, letting me know she’s moving toward me. Suddenly, I feel her body next to mine on the couch.
“Mitchell, you’re burning up.” Her cool hand feels so comforting pressed against my clammy head.
“It’s alright. I’ll push through.”
“You are going back to bed.”
I open my eyes and turn my head to look down at her.
“Ella, I can’t. I have to get up. He’s going to want to eat and—”
Her hand on my cheek stops me. “I got you.”
Those words, coming from her lips, have my heart pounding. To be honest, I don’t know if it’s because I’m madly in love with this woman or the sickness. It could be both.
I’m always saying those words to her. I say them because I mean them and expect nothing in return. However, hearing her repeat them back to me lets me know just how much I’ve needed to hear them.
“Jacob can stay with me and the boys for the next few days until you feel better.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask,” she says. “You’ve always been there for me, even back when we were in high school. You’re my backbone, Mitch. Let me be the support you need.”
Staring down at her rounded face, with those full, kissable lips and the most beautiful brown eyes I’ve ever seen, the words I’ve been keeping from her fly out of my mouth without another thought.
“I love you.”
She smiles. “Of course, I love you too.”
Grabbing her hands in mine, I try again to get her to understand.
“No, Ella. I love you.”
With those words, I want her to understand I don’t love her like a friend, or like someone that has been in her life since she was fifteen. I don’t love her like the godfather to her kids, or like a man that has been by her side in some of her hardest moments. I say those three words like a man who is so drawn to every piece of her, I’m consumed by the way she merely exists.
Her mouth closes, and her gaze falls to her lap. Even though I knew she wasn’t ready to accept what I was feeling for her, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I don’t wait for her to say it back. I know this woman loves me, but she isn’t ready to admit it yet. Not even to herself. It’s okay, I have all the time in the world to wait for her. I’ve already waited twenty-three years for her, what's a few more?
“What’s in the bags?” I changed the subject, reaching for the bags on the coffee table.
I pull out the container of what I’m assuming is soup.
