Most of All You: A Love Story(42)

“You’d like to think I left, wouldn’t you?” Her gaze was direct, challenging. Oh, Ellie.

I kept working, my hands moving in a way they’d moved a thousand times, finding the flaws, smoothing them. The ache inside me went clear to my bones.

“I never did get the pictures, though. I demanded them and he told me to sue him.” She laughed, a sound mixed with both contempt and a helplessness I understood, though I wished I didn’t. “As if,” she murmured, wrapping her arms delicately around her cracked ribs. She opened her mouth to say something, almost as if she was about to offer an explanation about why she’d stayed, but then she closed it, her brows furrowing slightly as if she wasn’t sure where to go with that thought. She looked away once again.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” I finally said. “There’s a special place in hell for people who knowingly take advantage of others more helpless than them.”

She sighed. “Yeah, well … I guess hell better be pretty big, then.”

“There are far more good people than bad.”

“You think so? You of all people?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

She stared at me, a number of emotions moving across her face: disbelief, anger, confusion, and the barest glimmer of … hope. I saw it a moment before she shut it down, her final expression, indifference, the one she decided to keep. She shrugged. “We’re all entitled to our opinions, I guess.”

My chest felt tight with hurt and frustration, but she was talking, and it was the most I’d gotten from her since I’d met her, so I decided to push my luck. Let me in, Ellie. Let all that pain inside you out. I won’t hurt you, I swear it. Only I couldn’t tell her that because she wouldn’t believe me anyway. The best I could do for Ellie was to show her. I’d give her rainbows every day if I could only see the smile she’d given me this morning, see that wonder glowing in her eyes for longer than a minute.

Sometimes, like now, I felt like we were on opposite sides of a tightrope, walking toward each other. One misstep and we’d both go tumbling down, down, down.

I glanced at her leg, not really knowing if what I was about to ask was safe ground or not but deciding to take a chance, deciding to risk the fall. “You told the doctor you’d broken bones before. When you were a kid?”

She narrowed her eyes slightly and then sighed, leaning back. “My dad liked to smack me around.” Another challenging stare. “When he remembered I was alive anyway. A couple of times, after he’d been drinking, he forgot his own strength.” She shrugged as if she’d just told me it was going to rain later.

Fuck.

Another fierce wave of anger hit me. This woman had experienced hell on earth. I had, too, but of a different sort. It suddenly struck me how very similar we were … and how very different.

I chipped away at the cherub, revealing a tiny upturned nose, chubby cheeks. Ellie remained quiet, watching me work, expressions moving over her face, obviously reliving memories inside her head. A bleak sort of despair settled in her eyes. “You can’t fix me, you know.”

She’d said something similar to me at the Platinum Pearl and I’d questioned my own motives. But looking at her now, I knew that had never been my intent. I wanted her to heal, and I hoped I could be a part of that. But no one could fix anyone else. We could only fix ourselves. “No, you’re right. I can’t fix you.” I can only love you. And I truly want to try.

She set her chin in that stubborn way of hers before a sort of worn-out resignation seemed to fall over her like a heavy, invisible net. She started to get up. “I’m tired today.”

I dropped my tools, pulling off my gloves before going over to help her up, grabbing her crutches so she could stand on her own. “Ellie, I’m sorry if my questions were invasive. I didn’t mean—”

She waved me away as if what we’d talked about had been of little consequence to her. “It’s nothing. I just …” She rubbed at her temple. “I have a headache.”

I stepped back. “Okay,” I said quietly. “I’ll check on you later.”

She nodded, limping away. I let out a groan, walking back to William and bracing my hands on the table. Fucking hell.

You’d like to think I left, wouldn’t you?

My dad liked to smack me around.

Ah, God.

I felt hollowed out as I put my gloves back on, picked my tools up again, and started to get back to work. When my cell rang, I huffed out a breath, pulling my gloves off and reaching in my pocket for my cell.

“Hello?”

“Gabriel? It’s Chloe.” Her voice was so light and chipper, I smiled.

“Hey, Chloe. How are you?”

“I’m great. Thanks. I just wanted to call and let you know that I’ll be arriving in town on Monday. I’m staying at the Maple Tree Inn. Everything’s all booked.”

God, the timing of this was not good. Still, I’d committed. She’d responded with such excitement and genuine appreciation to the e-mail I’d sent telling her I agreed to the interview, giving me approximate dates for her arrival. I’d told her I’d make myself available for whatever schedule worked for her. There was no way I could have predicted the situation with Ellie, but there was also no way I could back out on Chloe now. “Oh, okay, great. I’ve heard really good things about the Maple Tree. A bed-and-breakfast, right?”