Page 153 of New Growth
I nodded and poured both glasses this time. “I don’t even think she likes him. The whole thing is weird.”
“No, she’s weird. She wants El because he wants you. The girl wants to be you.”
I exhaled harshly at that statement, my headache returning from all the drama.
Downing my second glass, I breathed out. “I’m gonna go shower.”
I didn’t wait for Esther’s response.
Upstairs, I peeled off my clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water pound against my sore muscles. I closed my eyes, inhaling the steam, trying to let it wash away the tension knotting in my shoulders. But my mind wouldn’t shut off.
I missed El. I missed his arms around me, I miss telling him about my day. I scrubbed at my skin a little harder as if that would help.
By the time I got out, I felt somewhat lighter, though that was probably just the exhaustion and wine setting in. I changed into a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top before heading back downstairs. Esther had already plated our food, setting the table while dancing along to the music from her phone. The scent of the food she had cooked filled the room—garlic butter shrimp with rice and roasted vegetables. My stomach rumbled in appreciation.
“I didn’t make a lot because I didn’t know you’d come home,” she explained as I sat down. My stomach was still a little on edge because of the fading hangover, so a smaller portion was probably for the best.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, digging in. We ate in comfortable silence and just as I was starting to relax, my phone buzzed on the table.
Elliot.
I debated ignoring it, but with a sigh, I picked up.
“It’s ten o’clock,” he said as soon as I answered. “You’re usually here at eight.”
I rolled a piece of shrimp around my plate, keeping my tone casual. “I know. I needed space, so I came home.”
The silence on the other end was deafening. I almost thought he hung up.
“Why didn’t you say something?”
My eyebrows furrowed together like he could see me. “I didn’t think I needed too.”
“Seriously, Ellie? That’s how we’re acting now?”
My grip tightened on my fork. “What do you expect from me?”
“I don’t know,” he snapped. “Maybe some maturity about the situation.”
My spine straightened. “Well, maybe you should’ve chosen someone in your age group if you’re expecting a certain level ofmaturity.”
“It’s like that?” His voice was lower now, a dangerous edge creeping in.
“Yeah,” I said evenly. “It’s like that.”
“Okay. Bet.”
Then the call ended.
I stared at my phone, stunned, the silence ringing in my ears.
Esther casually took a sip of her wine, watching me over the rim of her glass. “Not you and your man fighting.”
I shot her a glare.
“He’s not my—” I stopped myself, exhaling sharply. “You know what? Forget it.”
I pushed back from the table, grabbed my plate, and dumped it in the sink.
