The Contradiction of Solitude(28)

I placed the folded square on top of all the others.

I stared down at the remnants of my love. My life. My future.

And then I closed the lid.



“Hi.”

He was there.

The push and pull twisted me into complicated knots. Confusion. I felt it. For the first time, I felt doubt.

“Hi.”

We looked at each. Elian was wearing dirty jeans and battered shoes. His shirt was stained and looked as though he had slept in it. I thought about him rolling in unclean sheets and felt…sad.

“I had fun last night,” he said, casting a look around, terrified of being overheard. And perhaps hoping at the same time.

I saw the flash of territorial flame in his eyes.

“I did too,” I told him. Because it was true. After he kissed me, Elian built a fire. We sat close, arms wrapped around each other. We were folded up in a cocoon of our own making and I gloried in it.

In him.

In this thing that was happening between us.

Because it was as it should be.

“I want to see you again. Tonight.” He sounded desperate. He was sucking the air from my lungs.

So fast.

So soon.

“Tonight.” I let the word roll around on my tongue.

Elian nodded. “Tonight.”

My pen glided lazily along the edge of my notebook.

You slip in quietly,

Before the storm.

Burrowing inside

Clawing deep.

I dig you out

Before you can take root.

It’s too late

To save what was already lost.

When you came in

From the rain and snow.

To massacre my heart

With your vicious smile.

“Is this about me?” I didn’t realize he was so close, standing on the other side of the counter. He towered over me—shadows and possibilities.

I didn’t close the notebook. I didn’t bother to shield my words from his observant eyes. He could see all of it.

“That sounds a bit narcissistic, don’t you think?” I asked, putting the pen down, not meeting his eyes like he wanted me to.

Elian chuckled and ducked his head down like a bashful dog. I thought about running fingers through his hair and scratching behind his ears. Would he roll over and show me his belly? A total act of submission?

“Yeah, I guess it did sound like that. I just meant that you wrote it now when I came in. I only wondered—”

“Do you want it to be about you?” I asked, cutting him off.

He swallowed. His throat bobbing up and down. His Adam’s apple was easier to look at right now. Easier than dancing green eyes.

“I…uh…”

“Yes,” I told him. Softly, sincerely.

Here we were, discernable moments of inescapable connection. Forged by unwitting hearts and unwilling souls. Together, in this darkness.

“Can I see you tonight?”

“Not tonight. Tomorrow,” I promised. Not tonight.

He was disappointed. I could tell. I was disappointed. I wanted to spend time with him. He was anchoring me in ways he couldn’t possibly understand.

I turned round and round, my mind spinning out of control but Elian was holding me steady. Still.

With him, I could…pretend.

But not tonight.

“Do you have plans tonight?” he asked and I found myself bristling at his question. He had no right to ask. He had no say over what I did or when I did it.

My business was my own.

“Yes,” I snapped, angry without meaning to.

Elian blinked. Long lashes covering all seeing eyes. I relaxed in the briefest second of invisibility.

“I didn’t mean to grill you. I just…Layna, there’s something going on here. With you. I’ve never—”

“Layna, there are customers that you need to ring up,” Diana’s terse voice cut through Elian’s earnest appeal.

I hadn’t realized there was a line that had formed behind Elian as I hid from his eyes. He had a way of making me forget.

“I have to work, Elian. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, closing my notebook and shoving it underneath the counter.

“Okay. Well, if you have time later, you can come by the studio—”

“Maybe,” I interrupted.

Elian turned to leave, but I stopped him. I reached out, grabbing ahold of his arm. My fingers curled around his wrist. He went rigid, and I felt it. His falling.

“Just don’t see her,” I said. Firm. Absolute. He didn’t think I knew.

But I knew.

Elian frowned.

“When you go home tonight, go alone. Please.” It was my turn to sound desperate. Needy.

I wasn’t sure I liked it.

It made me uncomfortable.

But I didn’t take back the words. They hovered there, in the air between us. Making their point.

“There won’t be anyone else,” he promised and I believed him. There wouldn’t. I had to make sure of that.

“There’s no one else,” I echoed, letting him know that for me, it was the same.

“Good.” Elian didn’t smile. But he wanted to. I wanted to smile. But I didn’t.

We stood, unsmiling, but the joy was there.

And we felt it for reasons that were our own.