Most of All You: A Love Story(83)

“God, Ellie,” I choked. “Please …” I pulled her against me tighter, panic and soul-deep pain warring within me. The agony of losing another person in my life slashed at my heart. Stay. Let me help you through this. You don’t have to do it alone. I wanted to say those words to her, to beg her not to go, and yet something stopped me—perhaps the memory of the talk I’d had with George, maybe the recollection of what it’d felt like to be in the place she was in. Most likely both. There was truth in her words, and I knew instinctively that to stop her would be at least partly motivated by my own selfishness. But, God, it hurt. It hurt so damn badly.

“Where will you go?” I managed to choke out. How will I be able to resist helping you? How will I survive wondering if you’re okay?

She shook her head slightly against me. I could feel the wetness of her tears on my bare chest. “Back to my apartment. From there … I don’t know.”

“You wouldn’t—”

She pulled her head back to look up at me, her eyes full of tears and tenderness. “No. I’m not Crystal anymore. I can’t ever be her again. I’ll find another job.”

I let out a loud whoosh of air and wiped a tear from her cheek. She paused before she asked quietly, “You paid my medical bills, didn’t you?”

I opened my mouth and then closed it, not prepared for the question, unsure if she’d be angry about it or not. She placed two fingers over my lips and then moved them out of the way so she could kiss me. “Thank you.”

I let out a relieved breath, understanding that her acceptance of my gift was a gift to me as well. My love for her was so intense in that moment, my whole body was shaking with it. “Will you come back?” My voice was a raw-sounding whisper, a broken plea.

Sorrow clouded her expression, and her lip trembled. “I need”—she clenched her eyes shut for a moment as if her words were physically hurting her—“I need you to go on as if I won’t. I need that.” She opened her eyes just as a tear slipped out and rolled down her cheek. Crushed. It felt as if my soul were being crushed.

I leaned down and pressed my forehead to hers, and for a moment we just breathed together. I wanted to beg. I wanted to scream at her and plead with her to stay. Beg her to want to come back to me. Not to leave me in the first place, but I couldn’t. Would she understand that in not fighting for her to stay, I was fighting for her to heal? “Stay today. Will you just stay with me today?”

She stared into my eyes for a moment before answering, “Yes,” so softly it was more breath than sound.

We lay back on the bed and I pulled the covers over us, determined to shut out the world this one last day.

We loved fiercely and sorrowfully, trying so hard to pack a lifetime of touches into a single morning. I felt desperate and heartbroken, but I knew in my heart that to stop her from going meant trapping her in its own way, and it was something I would never do. And so we took temporary refuge from the pain of goodbye and gloried in the moment: our heat and our bones and the tangling of our limbs. Our love.

We didn’t talk. To do so would only hurt more, and I didn’t think I could stand it, nor did I want that for her. When she finally pulled herself from my arms, I let her go. I lay there listening as she packed up her things in the other room, already missing the warmth of her skin and the smell of her hair and the way her smile felt like opening a window on a summer’s day.

I heard the soft sounds of her crying, and I wanted to be the one to wipe away her tears. But I knew that would only make it worse. I also knew Ellie needed to find happiness, and if she thought she needed to do it alone, it would be wrong to stop her. I tried to find some comfort in knowing I was doing the right thing for her, but I couldn’t manage it.

My stomach knotted as I rose from the bed we’d shared for the last couple of weeks, and I pulled on the jeans I’d thrown across a chair the night before. I used the bathroom and when I came out, Ellie was just exiting the guest room, carrying her bag. “I called George and asked for a ride,” she said.

I was glad she had. I didn’t think I could handle more than one goodbye. I smiled sadly at her and took the bag, walking toward the front door. It felt like the sadness of the moment was too much to bear, as if I might suffocate with it.

I pulled the door open. George’s truck was already idling outside, although he was turned away, most likely to give us the privacy he must know we needed.

I leaned against the doorframe, putting my hands in my pockets to stop myself from grabbing her and begging her to stay. “I’ll miss you.” It seemed like the only thing to say, and by the look on her face, I could tell she’d heard my whole heart in the words.

She brushed the hair away from my eyes and then put her hand on my cheek and smiled so tenderly I almost grabbed her anyway, though I’d promised myself I wouldn’t. “You will always be the great love of my life, Gabriel Dalton.” And then she turned and she left.

I closed the door behind her and leaned back against it, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor. I put my head in my hands, and I let the agonizing pain envelop me.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR


Whatever you do, do it with your whole heart.

Lemon Fair, the Queen of Meringue

ELLIE

I didn’t do much other than cry those first few days. Entering my apartment had been surreal—as if the space had existed in another lifetime. In some respects, I supposed that was accurate.