A Thousand Letters(18)

The doorbell rang, and the girls looked to me. They'd be looking to me for everything now.

"I'll get it." I turned to leave, my footsteps echoing in the too-quiet entry.

I pulled open the door to find Elliot, and my world shrank even more, consisting only of the two of us for seconds or minutes, I couldn't be sure. Her hands were deep in the pockets of her navy peacoat, a yellow knit hat on her head, and eyes so big, so full of sadness that I pushed away the urge to reach for her, wrap my arms around her small frame, hold her until we both felt right again.

I cleared my throat and stepped out of the way to let her in, saying nothing with words, only with my straight back, dropped brow, narrowed eyes, using my body as a weapon against her.

I had to keep her away.

I had to keep my heart away from her, because when she was near, when it came to life, the sensation was too much, too painful.

But how I wished it wasn't so.

If only.

She lowered her gaze and stepped in, walked past me without addressing me either, but she seemed smaller than before, as if she wanted to disappear, fade away. I wished for the same; she spun me around too quickly, and I couldn't find my footing.

Elliot set her bag down just inside the door and Sophie hurried over to her. They embraced, my sister's face tight as she hooked it over Elliot's shoulder.

"I'm so glad you're here," Sophie said, voice trembling.

"Of course I'm here. I'll always be here for you."

Sophie pulled away and swiped at her cheek. Sadie was waiting just behind her, twisting her hands, lip between her teeth, and Elliot moved to her, pulling her into a hug, rocking her almost imperceptibly. But I saw it. I saw everything Elliot did for what it was — kindness. She never acted under pretense or expectation.

It was one of the many reasons why I'd loved her.

Elliot let her go, but slipped her hand down Sadie's arm to hold her hand. "The room is coming along. What can I help with?"

Sophie glanced over the room. "I was just going to go upstairs to gather up some of his things to bring down."

"Great, I'll come with you." She unbuttoned her coat, her eyes finding mine for a fraction of a second before she followed my sisters. That tiny sliver of time could have been a year for what it did to me.

"I need some air," I grumbled, my heart drumming in my ribs as I blew past the girls, down the stairs, and to the backyard.

Yard was a generous word to use — it was a twenty-by-twelve patch of concrete and brick with an outdoor couch and two chairs, lined with bushes and flowers. But in Manhattan, it might as well have been an acre.

I couldn't sit, not with a hundred thoughts of Elliot zinging through my head. So, I paced. Confusion, that was the primary emotion. Having her there, seeing her, remembering her … it stirred everything in me that I worked so hard to keep down. Regret. Love. Longing. And now of all times when I had no reserve energy? When I needed everything I had in me to keep my mask in place so that I could bear the days to come?

I felt exposed, thin, too small to contain all of the things I felt, too weak to fix a single thing.

But I had to find a way. I had to, not only for Sophie, who I'd promised, but for my father. He needed her here as much as he needed the rest of us. She was one of us, part of us. Part of me.

That was the part I couldn't process. That after all this time, after all the lies I'd told myself, she was a part of me. It was as fresh now as it was the day we said goodbye, and I hated myself for my weakness.

Elliot was a shock to my nervous system, a bucket of ice water down my back, and the clarity it brought stung all the way to my bones.

I'd read an article once about a theory that when adults returned home, the family slipped back into their old dynamic. I'd found it to be true — Sophie would call me a know-it-all and I'd call her immature. Sadie would turn into a fawn, deferring to me for everything, telling me about her life with the same enthusiasm she had when she was five. And being around Elliot took me back to the years I loved her.

But I didn't want to love her anymore. I didn't want to hurt anymore.

My phone rang in my pocket, and I pulled it out, answering without looking.

"Hello?" I snapped.

"Hey, man."

"Ben," I said, relieved to hear his voice, sighing as I raked a hand through my hair. "Sorry, didn't know it was you." I paced the length of the yard.

"Well, I'd hate to be whoever you thought I was."

I chuckled at that, just a puff of a sound.

"How are you holding up?"

The truth was that there wasn't enough time and there weren't enough words in the English language. "As well as I can. What time is it there?"

"Eleven."

"Late."

"Nah, not too bad. Hadn't heard from you today. Figured I'd check up on you."

"Thoughtful," I said, almost smiling.

"Well, I'm nothing if not thoughtful. And kind. And well-mannered."

That elicited a snort out of me.

"What? I'm well-mannered."

He'd done it. I smiled. "You eat like a hog."

"Only when it's MREs. You can't take too long to eat them or you'll start thinking about what you're putting in your body and gag."