A Thousand Letters(70)

Sophie gasped, and a war of emotions washed over me. Relief that they weren't together. Rage that he could hurt her. Sadness that I couldn't have protected her. My chest ached at the realization that I couldn't even protect her from myself.

"I can't believe it," Sophie breathed. "For how long?"

"Years. I was apparently a pawn in his attempt to persuade her to leave Charlie."

"Oh, my God. Are you all right?"

Elliot nodded. "I never wanted him like that. He was only a friend." She didn't look at me once, but I knew the words were meant for me.

"Poor Charlie. And the kids." Sophie shook her head, mouth gaping in shock. "What … what are you going to do?"

"I told her she has until tonight to tell Charlie the truth before I did."

Sophie blinked. "You're kidding."

Elliot shook her head. "I'm going back over there tonight, but … I might need a place to stay for a little bit. I'm so sorry to even ask, but—"

"Don't be ridiculous," Sophie said, taking her hand. "You can always stay here, as long as you need."

"Thank you." Relief was heavy in her voice. "I'm going to have to figure something out. I don't know if I'll ever be welcome there again."

"You're always welcome here," I said, wanting some interaction with her, anything. But she stiffened, her lips and voice flat and formal.

"Thank you."

Sophie asked, "Want to sleep in my room?"

Elliot softened again when she looked back at Sophie. "That would be nice."

"Then it's settled." Sophie's phone rang, and she swore when she checked it. "It's Jeannie. I've been avoiding her calls since yesterday. Give me one second, okay?"

Elliot smiled and began unwinding her scarf. "Okay."

Sophie answered and walked toward the back of the house, and Elliot and I stood in the entry in silence. She went about the business of taking her coat and hat off, hanging them on the pegs on the wall as I fumbled with what to say, how to start.

"Elliot, I—"

She turned at the sound of her name, her eyes deep and sad. "Please, don't," she said softly. "It was hard enough to come here without us doing this again. I just had nowhere else to go."

I nodded my response. She didn't want to talk to me, as I suspected, and I knew better than to force her. Because I could, and she might submit. But I didn't want her to submit. I wanted to earn her love.

I would give her that precious time she needed, but I wouldn't give up. I wouldn't run away. Not this time.



Elliot

My heart hammered in my chest at the confrontation, but he didn't press me, only nodded and turned for the stairs, making his way into his room. The second his door closed, I could breathe freely again.

I was standing in the last place I wanted to be and the only place I could think of to go. I needed Sophie, but Wade was where she was, and the unsuspected consequence of pushing him back was that it felt like I'd made everything worse, more complicated.

But I wasn't sorry. And I didn't want to hear what he had to say.

I'd exhausted all hope that he'd tell me he wanted me, that he would say that he loved me, that he was sorry, that he wished he could erase the last seven years all the way up to yesterday and start over. The likely answer was that he wanted to argue more, blame me for everything, and that just wasn't something I could take. Not today. Not ever.

Sophie appeared again. "God, I'm sorry. She needed to know we were all still breathing over here, but I just couldn't deal with it yesterday."

"I'm sure she understood."

"She did, thankfully." She slipped her phone into her back pocket. "So, I think I know what we should do while you wait to detonate your sister's marriage." I flinched, and Sophie took my hand, smiling. "I'm kidding. She handled all that C-4 well enough on her own."

A chuckle puffed out of me.

"I think we should bake cookies."

"That does sound like it would make life a little better."

She hooked her arm in mine. "It's science."



* * *



We spent the next few hours making and eating cookies until we felt sick. The house was relatively quiet — Wade never came back down, Ben was out with Lou, and Sadie was staying with her friend still. No one faulted her for that, and I don't think Sophie or Wade knew if it was right or wrong. They'd be her parents now, an overwhelming task that neither of them knew how to perform.

But that afternoon, nothing else mattered. There were no problems other than how much sugar we had left and if there were enough chocolate chips in the batter. There was just me and Sophie and the task at hand, our conversation finding its way to us, easily, happily, devoid of anything important. But in that simplicity, we found comfort, levity in an otherwise weighted day, week, life.

Things always change, I said to myself, finding comfort in the platitude. Life is fluid — sometimes with cresting, white-capped waves, other times with an eerie stillness, a quiet surface. But it was never the same, day to day. And as sure as one day was up, the next may be down. Letting yourself ride the surface instead of kicking and fighting or sinking to the bottom like a stone was the only way to survive intact.