Page 64 of His to Love
I doubted she meant to end on such an ominous-sounding note, but I still flinched.
“Well, in the future, I’ll try not to use my name.”
“Use whatever works, Gabriella. You’ve done your job and that’s what I asked.”
She dismissed me with a nod, and I went to my desk and grabbed my purse, intent on heading out for a quick bite of lunch before returning for the afternoon.
“Would you like anything from the sushi place around the corner?” I asked Simone.
“California rolls,” she said, covering the mouthpiece of her phone. “And thank you.”
I tried my best to put the morning behind me and headed outside, quickly putting on a pair of sunglasses when the warm, spring sun temporarily blinded me. We were in the middle of a brief heat wave and it was gorgeous outside, signaling summer—and the humidity that accompanied it—was quickly approaching.
It was late for lunchtime so the sidewalks were pretty empty and the traffic relatively light. Due to the quiet outside, I decided to take my lunch, spicy crab and yellowtail scallion rolls, to a park just a block away from Hajime, the sushi restaurant, and my office.
Once I was seated at a picnic table and had begun eating and taking sips of iced tea, I picked up my phone and called the one person who’d been on my mind since yesterday. Perhaps Eleanor could help me make sense of the mess I seemed to find myself in with Tyson.
The phone rang three times and I began to lose hope, assuming she was out working with her goats or tending her garden. Then an out-of-breath Eleanor quickly said, “Hello?”
Tears instantly stung my eyes. For ten years, Eleanor had essentially been my mom, and I truly hadn’t realized how much I missed her soft and kind voice until I heard it again.
“Hey, Eleanor,” I said, fighting off the tears and trying to stop my chin from trembling.
She noticed immediately. I could practically feel the warmth of her arms wrap around me through the phone. “Oh Ella, what’s happened? Is it your mom?”
I sniffed and shook my head before I remembered she couldn’t see me.
“No, it’s just…life.”
“Do you have time to tell me about it?” Her voice was soft, almost melodic.
I explained everything to her. I told her about running into Tyson on the plane, which caused her to make a startled gasp. I told her about how poorly my mom—her sister—was doing, which left us both choking back tears. I told her about Malik and my father’s insistence that I marry him, which made her growl, which in turn made me laugh. And then we cheered and smiled and laughed when I told her about my new apartment, shopping for furniture, and my new, hopefully soon-to-be-permanent job with DPA. I spilled everything. I tossed every emotion, every fear, every concern, and every hope I’d had since I returned home into her lap because I knew I could trust her with all of it.
Especially the parts about Tyson.
“Tyson,” she said, a little breathless, still surprised. “Wow. And you say you ran into him on the plane, right?”
“Yeah.” My fingers found their way into my hair. “Imagine the odds, huh?” I laughed but it was stilted and rough.
“Do you trust him?”
Her question made me pause. Did I?
With my body? Definitely.
With my heart? I wanted to.
But sometimes there was this distance he put between us, even just that morning. It made me question if he was holding himself back.
“As much as I possibly can,” I finally admitted, feeling that sinking weight return to the pit of my stomach.
“Be careful.”
My eyelids fluttered closed at the concern in her voice. It was full of love and kindness…but worry, too.
“I will,” I promised her.
I went on to further promise that I would call her more often, and that of course I would keep her posted on everything, especially my mother’s health.
