Page 79 of Never Tear Us Apart

My heart slams once, deep in my chest, and the air returns to my lungs. I wasn’t expecting that kind of candor. Then again, I wasn’t expecting Ellery and I to be where we are now.

Fooling around was one thing. But emotions, especially old ones that had been pushed down, and never truly dealt with, were a completely different ballgame. Ellery knew this, which is why she cut me off that night in the photo booth when she could sense I was going to say something. But right now…I’m completely thrown off guard by what she just said.

“I think you’re right,” I admit when I can finally speak. “I felt it that night at dinner. That sense of…”

“Peace,” she says at the same time I do.

“Maybe it’s because I’ve been away for so long,” I continue, “living with the guys and focusing on baseball. But sitting down together for dinner, talking and laughing, it was nice.”

She studies me, considering my response. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” I nod.

“When was the last time you were truly happy, Cruz?”

“Well, baseball makes me happy. I won’t lie. I love being on the mound. I love the smell of fresh cut grass and my glove. I love the high of a win, and the silent reflection after a loss. But the other night when it was just you and me and the ocean…that was happiness. The kind I’ve only ever felt with you.”

It's a response, and it’s the truth. If she can be honest, then so can I.

She bites the corner of her lip and tears fill her eyes. “Me too.”

We look at one another, the sound of rain soaking the world, filling the silence.

When I think about what Royce could have done tonight—what he inferred—I see red. His words echo in my head and I can see the way he was looking at her in my mind. I don’t doubt for a minute that he meant what he said about taking what he wanted. And had he, I’d have killed him.

Pushing aside the idea of what would have happened had Inot been there, and thankful that Iwas, I clear my throat and push that thought aside.

“What do you say we get out of these wet clothes? I’ll get a fire going and put on some coffee and when you’re ready, we can talk.”

“It’s like eighty degrees outside,” she smiles gently.

“So I’ll crank up the AC,” I shrug. “Rainy nights deserve a fire.”

Accepting my answer, she nods and then picks up the skirt of her gown and turns for the stairs. “Do you remember where everything is?“

“Yeah,” I crack a smile watching her carry herself like a princess. “Go on. Take your time. I’ll be here.”

She looks over her shoulder as if confirming my promise, and when I nod, she turns back around and climbs the stairs.

A rush of longing slams into me as I watch her leave. Every time she walks away from me, I want to run up behind her and hold her, begging her to stay. Like I’m trying to make up for what she felt that night I left her and walked away.

When she hits the landing and turns down the hall for her room, I run out to the Jeep and grab my bag. Once I’m back inside, I make my way up the stairs and when I hit the landing, look down the hall out of habit.

Seeing her door open, and wanting to make sure she’s okay, I drop my bag on the floor and head to her room. When I reach the open door, I look inside and see her standing there. She looks lost or deep in thought. Maybe a little of both.

“Hey?” I knock on the frame. “You good?”

She spins around, and when she sees me standing there, nods but doesn’t say anything.

I make my way into her room slowly and look around. She has posters of bands and movies on the wall, just like before, but her matching Laura Ashley drapes and bedspread have beenreplaced by dark green ones with gold trim.

The built-in bookshelves flanking the fireplace on the other side of the room are still chalked full of books on one side, and her entertainment center and endless stacks of tapes, on the other. But the desk on the opposite side of the room is different.

There are two bulletin boards on the wall over it, one with stickers, ticket stubs, and sticky notes with lipstick kisses on as well as tons of pictures of her and Jenica. But the other is a smattering of Elmhurst keepsakes and pictures, and she doesn’t look happy in any of them, including the biggest one—an 8x10 from last year’s Homecoming, with Ellery standing in the center with a crown on her head and a sash marked, Queen.

I reach for the crown on the shelf affixed to the desk and finger the rhinestones at the peaks. “How did you become friends with them? When I left—”

“When you left,” she cuts me off, “it changed things.”

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