More than anything, I needed to know she was okay. I needed to see her, touch her, feel her presence settle the storm inside me. Just one look and I’d remember what mattered.
Her.
I wanted her to hear everything from me. Not through whispers passed around Faircloud, not from her brother’s stunned expression or anyone else’s well-meaning reaction. She deserved that much. She deserved the truth fromme.
I paused at her door, hand lifted, heart knocking just as loud inside my chest. I hesitated, then rapped gently against the wood.
I waited. Shifted my weight from foot to foot, fighting the urge to knock again. The silence on the other side stretched too long, and my nerves twisted tighter.
I knocked again—firmer this time. “Ellie,” I called, pressing my palm to the door like she might feel it. “It’s me. Please open up.”
Maybe she was asleep. It was late.
Knock.
Knock.
Finally, I heard the click of the lock, and then the door creaked open.
There she was.
Wrapped in a blanket, her pajamas soft and slouchy, hair damp like she’d just showered. Her face was clean, bare, and real. The kind of beautiful that knocked the breath out of me.
Her eyes were rimmed with red. Evidence of tears. Proof of the ache I’d caused.
My chest tightened. Words stuck in my throat, a traffic jam of apologies and explanations that couldn’t quite form.
She didn’t say anything either. She just… looked at me. Quiet and unreadable, letting silence sit between us like it had something important to say.
“Can… can I come in?”
She nodded once. “Of course.” Her voice was soft, a little rough, frayed at the edges.
I followed her inside, the door closing gently behind me. She flicked on the lamp in the living room, bathing the space in a soft amber glow that made it feel smaller, safer. I sat on her little couch, and she curled into the other end—knees drawn up to her chest, a pillow hugged to her middle like armor.
“Are you okay?” I asked, eyes sweeping over her, trying to read the signs she wasn’t saying aloud. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, and she stared at the wall like maybe the answers were written there.
She nodded, once.
“Ellie… you can tell me how you feel,” I said gently. I could feel it in the room—something unsaid sitting heavy between us. Had I broken the trust we’d built? Gone too far? Did she look at me now and wonder if she’d been wrong?
I braced for her answer.
“I’m okay,” she whispered finally, turning her gaze toward me. “I was just… scared. That’s all.”
She stretched her leg out, toes brushing my thigh, seeking connection. My hand followed instinctively, sliding down to reston her skin. I stroked slow, soothing circles with my thumb, grounding both of us.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured.
She shook her head. “No. Don’t be sorry.” Her voice was firmer now. “At first, I was a little angry at you… not because you defended me. But because of how it happened. I needed a second to catch up. But I talked it out.”
“Talked it out?” I asked, brow lifting.
“I told the girls everything,” she said, a quiet kind of pride in her voice.
Relief loosened something inside me.
I smiled. “I told the guys.”
