“Good night, Eli.”
“Night, sweetheart.”* * *OliviaThe next morning, I wake up on cloud nine. I finally took the leap.
I made my choice. I’m going to be with Eli. For real.
But then I promptly fall back to earth when I remember that making that choice means I’m not going back to Ted.
I take a trembling breath, running a hand over my face.
It’s time. I need to call Ted. Tell him our relationship is really over.
I don’t know if I’m in love with Elijah. Not yet. But after feeling so free and so happy in his arms last night, I do know there’s no way I can marry Ted. As much as it’s going to kill me to hurt him like this, I have to tell him the truth. It’s not fair of me to allow him to hope we’ll be getting back together. Because we aren’t.
Ted is a good guy. I would have a good life with him.
But I can’t be myself with him the way I am with Eli. Ted doesn’t support my dreams. He doesn’t enjoy the same things I do. He doesn’t kiss me senseless. And he deserves to have someone be as crazy about him as I am about Eli.
So I need to end things. Before I hurt him any more than I already have.
My gut is telling me this is the right move. But a fresh bolt of dread moves through me when I grab my phone and pull up Ted’s number. He’s smiling in the picture I uploaded to his profile, looking handsome in his neatly pressed sweater and khakis.
I know I have to trust myself. I need to make this call. But damn it, I don’t want to crush him.
Taking a deep breath, I hit his number. The ringtone blares in my ear, making my pulse jump.
I feel like I’m having an out of body experience. I’m really doing this. I’m breaking up with the guy I shared a beautiful, successful life with. The guy who spent a small fortune on a gorgeous diamond ring he picked out just for me. On paper, it makes absolutely no sense.
But my heart says otherwise. So does my gut.
I have no clue what’s going to happen next. Ending a three year relationship is always terrifying and upsetting. If I’m being honest, though, I also feel this sense of liberation. Letting go of Ted means my life is my own again.
I want that. So, so badly. I see now that being with Ted made me feel tied down. Trapped.
But being with Eli? That feels like freedom.
When Ted finally picks up, his voice sounds different. Or maybe I’m just used to hearing Eli’s voice these days.
We exchange our usual pleasantries. All the while my heart is beating hard. I feel like I’m going to throw up. I’m so sorry, I chant over and over again in my head. I’m so sorry I have to disappoint you like this.
There’s a pause in our conversation. He waits for me to speak, like he knows I have something to say.
Taking a deep breath, I open my eyes and let it out.
“I am really sorry, Ted. But I have to end our relationship. For good.”* * *EliThe Next Day
I’m up early, elbow deep in biscuit dough before the sun is even up.
For the twentieth time, I glance at my phone. I wonder if I should call Olivia. Invite her over to eat.
And for the twentieth time, I look away. We texted a bit yesterday, but I was crazy busy at work. I thought about calling her when I got home, but it was almost one in the morning, and her windows were dark. I didn’t want to wake her.
I also want to give her the space she needs. That’s just becoming more and more difficult to do. I like the way she makes me feel too much.
I toss my phone onto the sofa. Best to keep it out of reach. At least until the sun is up.
Using the mouth of a mason jar to cut the biscuit dough into even rounds—Grandma Mae’s old trick—my heart skips a beat when I remember the way Olivia surrendered to me the other night. The naked vulnerability in her voice when she said my name. Eli. Like she was begging me for something only I could give her.
I’ve missed feeling like I have what it takes to do something, and do it well.
I would so do Olivia well. I unleashed all that pent up sensuality of hers with just a kiss. Bet I could make her fucking howl if—when—we did more than that.
Thinking about all the possibilities is way too fun.
“Are you really humming ‘I Want to Know What Love Is’ right now? I guess that’s one way of handling the news.”
I start, almost dropping the bowl I was about to plop in the sink. Naomi is standing at the counter, twirling her keys as she looks at me with a slightly alarmed expression.