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That Thing Between Eli & Gwen

Page 25

by J. J. McAvoy

That was the problem. I had a life, but I no longer had a love life.

  Eli

  I was a father.

  My daughter's name was Sophia May Davenport.

  She weighed 3lbs, 4.3oz.

  And she was beautiful.

  She was even able to breathe on her own, but would not leave the NICU for a while, and she couldn’t come out of her incubator yet. Even so, she was still beautiful. I had spent the last 48 hours next to her. She would need a few more tests, but my mother believed she would make it. Right then, Hannah was in with her, sitting in her wheelchair, while I stood outside, signing papers.

  “You look like you’ve had a rough couple of days.”

  Hearing her voice made me freeze. I quickly prayed that when I turned around she would be there, and thanked God that she was when I did.

  She held up a cup of what smelled like coffee for me.

  Ignoring it, I pulled her into my arms…only she didn’t hug me back. She just stood there.

  “Guinevere,” I said, breaking free. “I know this is messy and confusing, but I will work it out, I promise you—”

  “Eli, it’s okay,” she whispered, placing the cup in my hand. “Don’t worry about me, I’m going to be fine. The only person that should be on your mind is your daughter. Congratulations. I really hope she gets much stronger.”

  I hated this, how she smiled and it was so obviously fake, how it felt like she had closed the door on me. She had become cold.

  “Guinevere, don’t.” I could feel it coming. “I know I can figure this out. Don’t shut me out. Give me a chance. Give us a chance—”

  “Eli, we were just a fling.”

  She all but stabbed me with her words, smiling still. “We were two lonely people who found comfort in each other, and now it’s time to get back to reality. You’ve been a great friend to me—”

  “Stop it.” I couldn’t listen anymore.

  “Eli—”

  “Stop saying my name like that, like I never mattered to you. You are lying to my face right now; it’s so clear I feel insulted that you think I wouldn’t notice.”

  “National Geographic is starting a new magazine called The Real. I’m going to be leaving for India, and then South Korea, and Russia. I’m going to take pictures all over the world, Eli, and you’re going to be an amazing father. ”

  “You are running.” She was running as far as possible from me, and it hurt in ways I couldn’t begin to describe.

  “I’m going to—”

  “To take pictures, I heard you, but don’t go. You love me, so don’t go, Guinevere.”

  For the first time, the fake mask she had been hiding under started to crack, and she couldn’t force that smile any more. “I never said I loved you, Eli. So let’s just do this—”

  “Simply? Easily? Does any of this look simple or easy? Guinevere, you told me with your hands, your eyes, your body, that you were in love with me, and now you are running to India without giving me a chance.”

  She shook her head, brushing hair behind her ear. “It was just sex, Eli—”

  “You said it. You said it, right before you fell asleep in my arms that night. You must have thought you were only thinking it, but you said it with your own two lips, six words: I’m in love with you, Eli. So don’t tell me it was just sex. Don’t smile and say we were a fling.” I cupped her cheek, forcing her to look at me. “It wasn’t, we aren’t. With every fiber of my being, I know that what is between us is more than that, because I’m in love with you, too, Guinevere. So love me enough to say the words. Please.”

  When she looked back to me, her eyes filled with tears she wouldn’t let fall. “Love me enough to let me go, Eli.”

  My hand dropped from her face and I felt my eyes burn. I couldn’t. I wouldn't let us end that way, and yet she was going to leave. She didn’t deny she loved me, and she was still just going to leave me anyway. “Okay,” I whispered, and I hoped it hurt her to hear as much as it hurt me to say.

  She nodded, walking away.

  “Guinevere,” I called.

  She stopped, but didn’t turn back to me.

  “Eat a lot in India, and laugh even more in South Korea, and remember to keep warm in Russia. Wherever you go after that, be safe, stay healthy, and when you are ready to return home…come back to me. I will be here. In a year, in five, or ten, or twenty years, I’ll be right here, waiting for you to come back to me.”

  Her body partially turned.

  And partially I hoped.

  But she just kept walking away.

  “Are you—”

  “No,” I said to Ian, handing him the cup of coffee she'd given me as her parting present. “I’m not all right.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The Hero and the Heroine

  Guinevere

  I felt sick. With each step I took across the airport, my heart ached, but I kept walking, pulling my suitcase behind me as I went.

  This was right.

  This would be great for my career.

  It’s what I’d always wanted.

  Why does it feel like I’m trying to convince myself? It’s the truth! I love what I do and now I get to take photos all over the world. Places I have always dreamed of were just one plane ride away and yet I wanted to—

  “Gwen?”

  Turning around, Bash smiled brightly, a plane ticket in his hand, his jacket casually laid over his arm. I couldn’t do this.

  “Bash—”

  “I know. You hate me right now, and you should, but we fell in love through your art once, and I’m not going to deny that I hope it happens again because you are the—”

  “Bash. I forgive you.” I smiled, facing him. “And I don’t hate you. Hating you makes me tired. But you need to understand I don’t feel the same. There isn’t any art in the world that can change that. I’m not going to rebuild us, so please let me go.”

  Before he could reply, I felt a shiver go up my spine at the voice behind me.

  “Guinevere.”

  I didn’t turn around, gripping on to the handle of my suitcase.

  “Guinevere.”

  He called again, his voice closer.

  I glanced up to Bash, and the look on his face made me want to laugh, yet for some stupid reason, my eyes began to water.

  “How did you even get here?” Bash questioned.

  Eli simply ignored him. “Guinevere…I’ll wait,” he said calmly.

  Taking a deep breath, I partially turned back to him. He stood there in blue scrubs, his dark hair a mess, his eyes only on me. When I faced him completely, the corners of his mouth turned up slowly until he had a full blown grin on his face and his smile made me smile, I couldn’t help it.

  “Don’t look at me like that.” It made me feel better and hurt all at the same time.

  “Sorry, I can’t help it,” he replied, taking a step closer to me. “Yesterday you asked me to love you enough to let you go and I did, because I never want to stop you from doing what you want. I thought I could bear it. Actually I’m a little embarrassed because I even gave you that stupid speech about being happy, but I’m a lot more selfish than I thought. When I woke up this morning I realized I didn’t want you to be happy without me because I’m not happy without you. I get why you’re scared, but trust in the fact that I love you in ways I can’t even describe though I wish I could, because then I’d know why I can’t think straight when we are in the same room. Don’t run from me Guinevere. Love me enough to stay.”

  He didn’t just take my breath away, he was the air in my lungs and I had no words, just tears. Cupping the sides of my face, he brushed them away with a smile. The more I looked at him, the more I loved him. Like a movie, everything—all the pain we had gone through just to get there—played in my mind, and I realized maybe it wasn’t just love between us, but fate.

  “Okay,” I finally managed to say, letting go of my suitcase.

  “Thank you,” he whispered over my lips, and I knew the moment his lips were
on mine…it had to be fate.

  It had to be him.

  Eli

  Neither of us had said a word since leaving the airport, and it wasn’t as easy as taking her hand and running off. She had to pick up Taigi and postpone—not cancel—her trip. She promised to call Sebastian in the morning and I would have been lying if I’d said I was fine. Part of me felt like I was only delaying the unavoidable.

  “I’ll get some wine,” I told her when we stepped inside my flat. She didn’t reply, just took a seat on the couch as Taigi curled into a ball at the base of it. Leaning over, she stroked his fur softly. Grabbing two glasses and two bottles, I moved back over to her, sitting right beside her.

  “Are you trying to get me drunk?” she said softly, the corner of her lips turning up.

  “Yes,” I admitted, and she finally glanced at me. The look in her brown eyes was different from what it had been at the airport, proving maybe she had just said yes because she was caught up in the moment. “We have our best conversations when we are in the process of getting drunk.”

  Uncorking one of the bottles, I filled her glass and then mine before leaning back into the couch behind me.

  Again, silence.

  It was killing me. She wasn’t the silent type; she was a rambler and I liked that about her, so I guessed it was up to me.

  “What are you afraid of?” I asked as I drank.

  “You can’t be serious,” she replied, still not drinking, just staring at the glass.

  “But I am. I want to hear it. Everything going through your mind. Even the things you think I’ll judge you for thinking. The one thing I love about us, Guinevere, is that we talk, we laugh, we tease each other, we laugh more, and we drink. Before being my girlfriend, you were my friend; I love that.”

  She drank, not a little bit, but her whole damn glass, the wine even slipping out the corner of her mouth. When she was done, she inhaled deeply and wiped her mouth.

  “We’re going to hate each other,” she confessed as I refilled her glass. “Not in the beginning. We’ll try to be understanding, but eventually I’m going to get jealous. I’m going to see you and your daughter and feel like the odd man out. Which is horrible, Eli. She’s your kid. I’ll know that, but I’ll still be hurt. You’ll feel guilty and then annoyed because I’m not going to be happy or I’ll start avoiding you because of it. Slowly we will wear each other down until…until we’re fighting all the time, fighting because we love each other and don’t want to let go, but realistically know we should. I can see it so clearly, me not seeing you because of work and then when I do you have to be with your daughter. Besides, I still have things I want to do with my career too… I’m selfish, Eli. I don’t like that I am, but I don’t want to share you with Hannah or your daughter or anyone. I feel like they are standing between us, like they are the thing between us… I want to spend some time getting to know you and being with you. Those are the things I’m thinking about.”

  I finished my first glass and started to refill, my mind racing to the point that I was starting to get a headache.

  “In your books, how would the hero and heroine work this out?” I questioned.

  Her mood lightened up and she even giggled. “The heroine would have gotten on the plane and we’d have to wait for book two to see them struggle to fix everything later.”

  I had missed hearing her sound cheerful. “Who do you think would play me in the book to movie version if there was one?”

  “Tom Hiddleston,” she said without even a moment of hesitation.

  “We look nothing alike Guinevere.”

  “I know!” She grinned, reaching for the bottle. “But he’s hot and I’d happily play myself, thank you very much.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah good luck with that.”

  “A girl can dream.”

  “If you are going to dream about a man fucking you in the shower and on the bed, in your parents’ basement, it needs to me.”

  Her eyebrow rose and she looked ready to challenge me. “And if I don’t?”

  “The moment I feel you hot and bothered beside me, I’ll happily remind you one thrust at a time.”

  Her eyes glazed over and she swallowed slowly before looking away.

  Grinning to myself, I kicked her foot on the coffee table. “We aren’t a movie, or one of your romantic book couples. We’re real people who have to deal with real shit day in and day out. Just because you find the love of your life doesn’t mean nothing else comes up. My daughter, Sophia, she’s important me, and I can’t even explain it, but I’m happy she’s alive no matter who her mother is. I love her…but I also love you and I don’t want to choose. I’m selfish like that. I want you both.”

  “Eli—”

  Reaching over to her, I took her glass and set it on the coffee table next to mine. Opening my arms for her, she hugged me, burying her face into my neck.

  “Later you should rebook your flight to India. I don’t want to ever hold you back either. But when you go, remember you’re got a boyfriend waiting at home. We’ll email each other back and forth; who knows? I might even have enough time to visit, when Hannah is with Sophia. We are going to share custody and Hannah knows that is the extent of our relationship. We’re going to work Guinevere, and we aren’t going to hate each other; we’re going to miss each other to the point that nothing else matters.”

  “Eli,” she whispered, sitting up between my thighs, her eyes searching mine as I brushed my thumb over her lips.

  “I told your father that in ten years I’d still be with you. I meant it.”

  When her lips were on mine, I felt my body finally relax. We weren’t running away from each other, but toward one another. Yes, there had been and would be bumps in the road, yes, we’d fight, and yes, I was sure starting a long distance relationship wasn’t going to be nearly as romantic or fulfilling as I’d hoped, but it was something…something that closed the space between us.

  “Ahh…” She moaned into my mouth as one of my hands cupped her breast and her ass, thankful she had worn a skirt that day.

  We weren’t ending…we had only just gotten started.

  Epilogue

  From: Guinevere Poe

  Subject: I Have A Question For You…

  Date: September 8 at 2:18 AM

  To: Eli Davenport

  Dear Dr. Asshole,

  Have you ever been sneezed on by an elephant? Well I have…twice…by the same elephant. His name is Anugtaha, which I have been told means one who has grace, and the keeper here joked he may be allergic to me. I have a feeling you are smiling at the irony in that. But do not be alarmed, Anugtaha and I will be the best of friends before I leave here, as you know I become more loveable the more time you spend with me. :)

  I hope you’re doing okay. I called, but the time difference and everything is still throwing me off. I won’t lie, I’m still nervous about being so far away from you. I’m not sure if I’m running or following my dreams. Yes, I’m having a good time, but all day as I was traveling around I would see things or want to go places and the very first person that came to mind was you. It’s so strange to me how just a few months ago I didn’t even know you existed and now I can’t function the same without seeing you.

  I’m going to stop before I get too sappy.

  Keep being kinda cool,

  The Con Artist

  P.S. I love you…

  From: Eli Davenport

  Subject: I Have An Answer For You…

  Date: September 9 at 3:48 PM

  To: Guinevere Poe

  Dear Con Artist,

  No, I have never been sneezed on by an elephant, but please relay this message to Anugtaha for me: don’t look into her eyes my friend, it’s how she gets you. One moment she’s a normal annoying human being, and the next you can’t think of anyone more beautiful. If she stares at you and smiles, well then you’re a goner and there is
no hope, just accept it.

  As for you Guinevere, I don’t care what the time difference is, the only reason why I would miss your call is because of work. The rest of the time I’m waiting to hear from you anyway. You are running, but that doesn’t matter because I’m standing at the end of the road waiting. Just enjoy everything in front of you right now. You may only get to see those things once. Yes, I miss you and yes if I could pick between you being there and you lying next to me, of course I’d pick next to me. I’m almost as jumpy as Taigi; every time the door opens our heads shoot up like we expect you to walk through the door.

  I also won’t get too sappy.

  Stay healthy, smile a lot, be safe,

  Your boyfriend

  P.S. No way I’m calling myself Dr. Asshole. :p

  P.P.S. I love you more than the sun loves the sky.

  From: Guinevere Poe

  Subject: I’m Not Sure If You Are A Devil Or A Saint

  Date: October 12th at 3:00 AM

  To: Eli Davenport

  Dear Boyfriend,

  Calling your girlfriend at midnight to have phone sex was….is…urgh! I don’t know whether to yell at you for making me miss you more, for making me want to kiss you and make love to you and fuck you, or thank you for saying everything you said. See, it’s morning here and my mind is still reeling.

  I don’t know what to type. My mind is blank. When I can think of words again I’ll call,

  Your very frustrated girlfriend

  P.S. I don’t know if I ever told you this, but your phone voice is sinful.

  P.P.S. I love you more than the British love their tea.

  From: Eli Davenport

  Subject: I’m Whatever You Want Me To Be

  Date: October 12th at 1:00 PM

  To: Guinevere Poe

  Dear Girlfriend,

  I’m glad it was as good for you as it was for me. Yes, there will be Facetime, I need to see your face as you get off on my voice. And don’t lie, your mind isn’t blank, it’s just filled with all the things you want me to do to you. After all, what did you call me last night between moans?

 

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