I’m supposed to hate him.
Who knows how I feel?
I indeed don’t.
After all, there has always been a thin line between love and hate.
Thanks, dopamine, for another mindfudgery.
* * *
We’re quiet while Eli cleans my cut. The only sounds in the room I focus on are his steady breathing and my whimpers whenever the narrow cut in my skin hurts because of the antiseptic solution he uses.Ow, that freaking stings.
Surveying his almost empty place, I keep thinking about how I need the third cup of coffee soon. Two cups I’ve had today weren’t enough to wake me up completely. Should I suggest to Eli that we order coffee before starting? I bet he doesn’t even have a coffee maker in here.
When I peek at him again, I forget that I wanted coffee in the first place.I wish I didn’t remember how his lips feel against mine. If I close my eyes and focus, I can still remember the taste of those lips. I wonder if that has changed over the years, like his cologne.
Being here would be much easier without all my memories from that night. We need to get the interview done today without any other flashbacks. But it gets more complicated with every second that passes.
I glance down at my foot and thank him. He tentatively smiles at me. A voice in my head says that it’s time for professional mode. “Do you mind if we film the interview? We might use the material on our digital site,” I ask as I stand to set up my equipment.
His expression is puzzled, “Sure, no problem. Just tell me if I look good enough for the camera.” Eli grumbles after sensing the distance I’m putting between us. He pours himself another drink and sits opposite me again. Turning to face him, it’s obvious he is aware of how amazing he looks. He’s just being cheeky, as my British colleagues would describe him.
I open the notes on my phone and read the first line after his background information. “Let’s start with a simple one. Who’s Elijah Dalton?” I cringe at Carol’s substandard question.
Eli catches my reaction, and a devilish grin takes over his features. He’s enjoying this way too much. “That’s a great question. I would say that he’s someone who never gives up. He knows what he wants and goes after it every time. No matter what. Would you agree with that, Maggie?”
I can’t believe his audacity. I am trying my best to interview him without mentioning our shared past. Then he opens his trap and calls me Maggie.Again.
Ignoring his snide remark, I continue, “We’re doing a new article series featuring rags to riches stories. My boss thinks yours would be a perfect addition. What do you think?”
Eli stares out of the window before answering. “If you look around, you don’t see a poor kid from a small town no one has ever heard of. You see a multimillionaire who has everything he wants," he says absently and gestures at the view from his living room. I look at the rainy city expanding below us. "It seems like I’ve got all the finer things in life. That’s what the public thinks, at least. The truth is more complicated than that”.
“Would you be willing to expand on that?”
“What I’m trying to say is, even though my life has been a perfect example of rags to riches, as you call it, there are many layers to my story. You need to peel them back and peek inside. Are you up for the challenge?” He glances at me and smirks again after his obvious dare. For a moment, it feels like we are back in his house that night years ago.
“Of course. Tell me more about your childhood first.”
Asking him Carol’s questions feels wrong. I witnessed his life for four years. I saw what it was like before all the glamor. It wasn’t anywhere near pleasing. I get a sickening feeling in my stomach even thinking about it.
“I would rather not,” he responds in a somber tone. “Honestly, I try to forget my life before I got out of the foster system at age 18. Many things went wrong along the way.”Eli stops and takes his glass from the coffee table.
“What do you mean?” I ask hesitatingly.This is bad. So bad it hurts. If he asked me the same question, I would tell him to get lost in a way that would need a bleep censor in real-time.
“My childhood was different. Only two friends have stayed in touch with me after leaving my hometown. They’re like my brothers, who taught me things like open-mindedness, patience, and resilience. Without them, I wouldn’t be the person I am today,” Eli starts and then coughs. He takes a sip of his drink before continuing.
“If I think back to my childhood memories, there are plenty. Not all of them are good. For example, when I was 14, I suddenly moved houses. I hated the new house and everything it symbolized.” He exhales loudly and taps his index finger against the armrest of the couch. My heart breaks for that skater boy next door. The death of their parents must have been a horrible time for him and his sister, who he hasn’t mentioned yet.
For a moment, I don’t hear how he continues his story until I hear a familiar name.
“…But a lady called Grandma Lou lived in the house next door. She loved baking and gossiping. When she saw me sitting in a swing kicking dirt, she came to me with a plate full of cookies and a small bottle of milk. Those were the best cookies I have ever had. They had white chocolate and macadamia nuts in them.” Eli chuckles and then smiles melancholically, remembering what he was talking about.
“I wish I could go back and share cookies with Grandma Lou one more time. I didn’t see her again after I helped her move out of her house seven years ago. However, I did see her obituary after she passed away way too young. Even though everyone called her Grandma Lou, she was only in her fifties. It’s such a shame how she left like that.” He breathes out heavily and locks eyes with me and he speaks next. “I wanted to attend her funeral, but couldn’t because of a last-minute business trip, a decision I still regret.”
There’s an eerie silence between us. Something just changed after his confession. Blinking away my tears, I go over what Eli just admitted, how he talked about my Grandma Lou like they were best friends. He helped her and my dad when they moved in with great aunt Helen.
He planned to be there when I said goodbye to another person I loved.
