CHAPTER FOUR
My walk home dragged to no end as I slowly processed the way I had acted in front of Rhys. I considered how ridiculous, unprofessional and awkward he must have found me, how confusing it must have been. Guilt and humiliation were battling inside my body - all the while his facial expression imprinted in my mind, haunting me. Once home, the only relief was that I was finally on summer break for four weeks. I bathed for over an hour, struggling to stay awake in the tub before I dried off and lay in bed. Surprisingly, I fell asleep quickly, likely because it was the end of the semester and I was emotionally drained after lunch.
Being around Rhys was like riding a wild carnival ride, fun in the moment, but dizzying by the end. Overall I felt wonderful around him, but that strange sentiment filled me with shame that I had allowed him in. When I moved away, I swore I would keep to myself, and now I was forced to keep seeing someone I couldn’t resist; he was just too likable. I’d become comfortable around him over our lunches, but didn’t know how to function with how uneasy that relaxation felt, leaving me completely unwound. Just before I dozed off my phone vibrated with a text from him.
Rhys: I’m sorry to bother you. I know I said I’d only message with questions, but I can’t stop thinking about lunch. I feel awful that I obviously struck a nerve, and I’m rather sorry. You don’t have to elaborate, but I’m a friend if you want to. Hope you have a better weekend.
I read it through blurry eyes and fell asleep immediately after.
I slept in till noon, a rare occurrence, only awaking when a neighbor slammed their door. Remembering his text, I looked around to find my phone on the carpet. Rereading it a couple of times, I realized that he probably assumed I was angry or ignoring him. If I answered him then, hours later, it would be weird. I also didn’t know what to say, so I left it alone, staying in bed for the entire day except to eat or use the bathroom.
The following day was a different story. I awoke at 9:00 a.m. and made the decision to be productive. Taking advantage of my early start and break from work, I cleaned my desk, organized my closet, and decided to go for a run in Hyde Park. After the laziness from the day before, there was an itch in my legs to burn off some energy. I laced my sneakers tight, put on my headphones and walked toward the park with a new positivity that I would figure things out. Running was my escape, my way of dealing with my demons. It was something I started right after Aaron passed as my main coping mechanism. My parents worried, especially since I was barely eating. But it was the only time I could escape the pain. After running four miles in thirty minutes, I felt rejuvenated and powerful, my natural high putting me in charge of my problems.
When the weather allowed it, I made a habit of stretching by the pond and that day it was glorious. Gone was the evidence of winter, and you could feel the comfortable summer humidity mingling with the crisp spring air. I took off my sweat-soaked tank top, and lay on the ground to loosen my muscles. With some mellow Sam Smith playing loudly in my ears, I stretched my legs and was in the middle of a pigeon’s pose when someone grabbed my shoulder from behind.
I turned aggressively with a squinted gaze and grabbed the hand. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the light, but when they did I saw him staring down at me, gorgeous with the sun shining behind him, making him appear god-like. Letting go of his hand, I roughly tugged my headphones out of my ears to finally hear his words.
“Sorry!” he said, chuckling with a hand on his chest. “I’ve been calling you for over a minute from back there.” He pointed far behind him. “I was running and as I came around the turn I thought I saw you.”
Rhys had been staring into my eyes and then took a moment to assess me, looking up and down my body as I remained stretched out on the grass. I swiftly felt naked, becoming aware that he was seeing me in my sports bra. It was basically a bathing suit, in some ways more modest, but I still felt exposed. His eyes came back to mine, and he gaped at me as if I were deaf since I hadn’t responded to him.
“Hi,” I managed to say still confused to see him there. I was secretly pleased to see his beautiful face, entrancing eyes and all. Usually, though, I had time to mentally prepare myself and was left speechless.
“Hi,” he said, with a glowing smile. He knelt down on the grass beside me and made himself comfortable. I didn’t say anything, only continuing to stare and confuse him.
After a moment he said, “Ellie, is everything okay? I texted you last night, did you get it?”
Great. Now I really looked like an asshole. He may be incredibly masculine, but his eyes held so much emotion, like a puppy in one of those god-awful adoption commercials. The ones that make you want to kill yourself. As he watched me, I could see him contemplating which was worse: that I didn’t get the message he’d taken time to send, or that I did, but didn’t care enough to answer. I told the truth hoping he would believe me.
“I got it, but I was half asleep and passed out with the phone in my hand.”
He nodded, his lips in a straight line.
“I promise,” I nodded, trying to reassure him.
Rhys smiled softly, seeming to take comfort in my insistence. If I was promising, that meant I cared. “Is it okay if I stretch here too? I’m done with my run.”
“Sure.” I didn’t question it, but I didn’t believe him either, suspecting that he’d found me and wasn’t ready to let go. He’d obviously thought about my issues since Thursday and it lingered between us uncomfortably. As he stretched his long frame accented with muscles, I eyed him through the privacy of my sunglasses. He was fit, toned in all the right places, and dressed in tight running leggings that hugged and accentuated all the muscles of his lower body. It was too tight in some areas, and I’m ashamed to admit I glanced at inappropriate places out of curiosity. Reprimanding myself mentally, I looked away hoping he hadn’t noticed. Thank god he broke the silence and distracted me.
“I’m quite distraught over Thursday.”
“It’s okay, Rhys,” I interrupted. “It’s my fault.”
“No, it’s mine,” he broke in. “I shouldn’t have suggested the game. You’re clearly uncomfortable around me. I don’t know you well, and I’d like to, but I shouldn’t force it. I know there’s something you’re keeping close to the vest, and while you’re entitled, I wish you wouldn’t. I understand though, so I’m going to give you space and stop pushing it.”
I felt terrible, looking down at the fresh blades of grass to avoid the disappointment his eyes held. He was so endearing as he put himself on the line. It was sweet really, to have someone who knew so little of me, open up so much of themselves. He simply wanted to help. I couldn’t understand why. His unusual kindness caused an unusual candidness in me, because how could I not be warm to him after he opened his heart to me?
I shook my head. “Rhys, you’re right. I normally don’t open up to people for a long time, if ever. But I would be lying if I said it’s not different around you, you’re unexpectedly genuine. I’m going to tell you something personal, if only to help us through the next few weeks.”
His expression was torn, seemingly pleased that I wanted to unveil my secrets, but disappointed to hear me setting an expiration date to our time together.
“I know I’m not the easiest to be around; I tend to be withdrawn and I’ve had those walls built for some time now.”
His eyes stared at me with intensity as he rose from his stretch to lean on his arm and listen. It was beyond distracting, making it difficult to keep my thoughts together.
“It’s nothing you’ve done, you’ve been wonderful actually. But I experienced a great loss and I don’t usually let people get close to me. The special person I mentioned the other day, the one that’s not around anymore, you assumed it was their loss. They didn’t break up with me or hurt me. The truth is, it’s my loss.”
I paused, taking a deep mental breath, bravely continuing as I stared at the ground. “I was engaged to my high school sweetheart; we lived together, went to college togethe
r. Two years ago he passed in his sleep next to me, and I woke up and found him.”
I looked back to gauge the sadness and shock overwhelming his eyes. He continued listening without interruption. And then, it all poured out like some valve on the point of bursting.
“As traumatizing as that was, the worst part is I don’t have him to experience life with, to love anymore. It’s made conversation difficult, since any topic you can imagine makes me think of him, and so I shut people out instead. I have a hard time letting people in because I’m scared to lose them too, and I don’t share much because I’m extremely protective of him. He’s in here,” I pointed to my head, and then my heart, “and in here, and I don’t let him out often.”
Rhys stared at me longingly for a while before quietly asking, “Is that why you moved here, what you were trying to get away from?”
I nodded, astounded that he remembered that fact. Again he remained quiet and continued watching, causing me to wish I could read his mind. The longer he stared, the more stripped I felt and I’d started regretting my choice to share. I could see him processing me, peeling each callous layer of my personal prison, and I couldn’t help but sense he wanted to free me. His face was calm and contemplative as he measured my words. Taking the weight off his hand, he sat up and bent forward at the waist to grab mine.
He gripped it affectionately, as usual, and said, “I’m so very sorry for your loss.”
I shrugged and rolled my eyes, “It’s fine, please don’t pity me.”
He shook his head with sincere eyes. “No, you’ve mistaken me. I’m sorry for your loss, as in your loss of hope and happiness, your life ahead of you. I can’t imagine it’s easy losing your future. We’re supposed to bury our parents, not your partner or dreams ahead.”
Water pricked at my eyes and I could only stare in disbelief. I hadn’t felt that understood by anyone in a very long time. Astonished by his attentiveness, I failed to form words and blurted out my thoughts. “No one’s ever apologized like that in two years. I mean for me, and not Aaron’s death.”
Rhys tilted his head slightly. “Well, it’s true. You didn’t just lose him, you lost a little of yourself. It seems you’ve moved here to find yourself again, yes?”
I agreed as I discovered the peculiar sensation to have someone you barely know suddenly understand everything about you.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“For what, dear?” he asked, his brows furrowed in bewilderment over his blue eyes.
“For understanding.”
∞
We continued stretching in silence and finished at about the same pace. Rhys stood up and again I couldn’t resist glancing at his perfect physique. Reaching out his hand, he pulled me to my feet in a jolting motion that brought me intimately close to his body, and I had to subtly take a step back to meet his gaze. He was at least six to seven inches taller than me, and I felt oddly short considering my tall height.
In revealing my secret, an ease seemed to have washed over me. I was surprised to have control of my nerves that left me feeling bare and discovered, but unfortunately it didn’t last long. My anxiety flared. I noticed him glancing at my exposed waist, so I placed my hand there in a pathetic attempt to cover up. He noticed discomfort, glanced up and asked, “Are you going home now?”
“Yeah.”
“May I accompany you?” he asked.
I couldn’t exactly refuse his charming gesture.
Aaron and I moved in together just after college graduation, so it had been years since I’d been walked home. Walking by Rhys’ side was surreal, not because of his fame, but because a man was escorting me. I’m sure any other woman in my place would be star-struck or fan-girling, but I was flushed for entirely different reasons.
Thankfully, my flat wasn’t too far from the park so I had escape close by. I slipped my tank back on as we walked, sensing his obvious disappointment, convinced he’d been enjoying the view. We crossed the street in matching pace before he initiated conversation again. “Can I ask a few questions?”
“Sure.”
“Why London?”
“It was somewhere I had always wanted to live. It was also the easiest transition as far as language and culture goes, plus it’s only six hours from home, but a train ride everywhere else.”
“Is this situation the reason you don’t want to go home?”
“Basically. It’s a pity fest and while I appreciate people caring, it’s hard to move forward and be mildly normal when it’s a constant pouring of emotions. I Skype my parents and friend, Anne, often though.”
“I got the impression you disliked them since you mentioned you don’t go home often.”
“No, I love them. They got me through the hardest setback. It was dark there for a while and they did everything for me: they cleaned out our apartment, helped his parents with funeral arrangements, everything. I just can’t hide out when I’m home, so it’s easier hiding here.”
“I get it,” he nodded, pressing his faint pink lips into a contemplative line.
Hearing those three simple words made me glad to have told him, and it was freeing, a sensation I didn’t expect. I’m sure he felt similar relief in understanding more pieces of my puzzle. It was natural with him, and as we neared my place I forced myself to tell him before I could chicken out.
“I’m glad you know now, it makes it easier. I didn’t think it would.”
Rhys looked over to me with smiling eyes. “That makes me so happy. I’m glad you’re comfortable talking about it with me, truly.”
He looked forward suppressing a small smile, and I started believing that Rhys and I could be friends despite my previous judgment. We got to my building a few minutes after that, and I wrestled with myself. I didn’t want him to come up; my apartment was my sanctuary, but I also didn’t want him to leave. He leaned closely to me, a little too close and looked down into my eyes endearingly.
Grabbing both my shoulders he said, “I know it’s hard to open up, but I’m glad you told me.”
“Me too,” I said, strangely meaning it.
He hugged me briefly, causing me to remember how sweaty I was, and I prayed I didn’t smell. Pulling away he added, “I’m sorry, I have to go. I’m meeting my mum for lunch, but I’m looking forward to Tuesday. See you then?”
“Definitely,” I smiled.
He started backing away, but upon seeing my smile he matched mine, touching it quickly with his fingertip. “It’s nice to see you smile.”
I stopped, self-conscious from his compliment and unsure how to respond. It was so similar to how Aaron had touched my lips years ago. Sensing my unease, he put his hand on my shoulder again and added, “I hope to see it more. See you next week.”
I’d ashamedly obsessed over Rhys all night, thinking back to how clear things were with him, how open he was to my honesty. It felt wrong to be thinking of him, but it was hard not to when I remembered the way he had fully accepted me. The way he’d understood me. I went to bed hoping to avoid thoughts of him, but it was pointless because he texted me as I lay in the dark.
Rhys: Thanks for trusting me today.
I answered immediately, fearful that he would think I was ignoring him again.
Me: Thank you for making it easy. Glad we “ran” into each other.
Rhys: Are you running again before Tuesday?
I smirked, knowing exactly why he was asking. Playing coy I responded vaguely.
Me: I guess we’ll just have to see.
Rhys: Okay, I’ll keep an eye out. :)
I was smiling like a fool as I stared at my phone. Realizing it, a pang of guilt and sadness shot through me. What was I doing? It scared me how close I felt to him, a celebrity no less; but he made it easy to share myself, lightening my burden that had weighed me down for so long. But in that lifting from my shoulders there was a new issue created. I felt vulnerable and defenseless, and it caused concern that I’d form an attachment. Surely this couldn’t last past our training.<
br />
He mentioned that he wanted it to, but I’m sure he meant to be friendly. He would be busy with the show soon, and after that with films across the world. No matter how attentive he was: treating me to lunch, listening to my problems, and genuinely seeming to care, I knew I needed to avoid deepening my connection with him. It was just so comforting to be accepted, I didn’t want that to end. I went to sleep to avoid confronting my feelings.
CHAPTER FIVE
The weekend was spent continuing to be productive and donating things to charity. Although I’d only lived in London for one year, I had already accumulated unnecessary items. When I moved, I didn’t set an ending for my time abroad, but I knew I wanted to continue my minimalist lifestyle. Since I lived alone and kept to myself, I didn’t need much and the only things I allowed myself to hoard were books.
After cleaning, I got out of the apartment and walked to Daunt Books. I’d been cooped up inside, and while I was accomplishing tasks, I couldn’t stop thinking of Rhys. Daunt Books was a great distraction and it fed my addiction of print, but even there I couldn’t escape him as I veered towards the travel section and purchased Paris guidebooks.
During my walk home signs of autumn were starting to hint their way into London. Some of the leaves were slowly beginning to wither and the end-of-summer breeze had appeared as well. Autumn was my favorite time in the city, and I could only imagine how beautiful Paris would be in the fall. I had been tempted to text Rhys all weekend, and with the guidebooks in my arms it made it all the more enticing. Not wanting to seem clingy, I decided against it since I hadn’t heard from him after the park.
But the urge to reach out continued, and as I ran through the park the following morning he inundated my thoughts. I hated that I looked for him, that I ran slower and longer than normal, in hopes of catching him mid-run. But that run felt different; it was powerful and I didn’t feel as heavy, my shoulders looser as I took longer strides. Maybe it was the possibility of running into him, or maybe I just felt a little less weighted. Had Rhys looked for me too? It was a nice thought that rapidly twisted into guilt. I stretched again by the pond with a new alertness in case by some miracle he would pass my way, but he hadn’t, and I walked home annoyed by my disappointment.
For Both Are Infinite (Hearts in London Book 1) Page 4