I shake my head, my thumbs brushing along her jaw. “I want this,” I tell her, leaning down to kiss her softly. “I just don’t know if I can handle all that,” I add, my eyes flicking to the building behind us. “It’s a lot more than I expected.”
Nora licks her lips, nodding as though she’s taking in my words and what they mean. “I’ll tell Sara it’s just me in all of this okay, you’re off-limits.”
I have to bite my tongue before speaking as I realize what she’s really saying. Not that our story is private, just that I am and I won’t be a part of the publicity campaign for it.
“So what,” I eventually say, trying to stay calm. “You’re still going to write about us, do the book tour and the TV show?”
I feel her tense against me. “The TV show isn’t even a certainty.”
“But you’d like it to be?”
Nora lifts a shoulder, that bottom lip between her teeth again. “I don’t know,” she says, even though we both know she’s lying. “It would be kinda cool to have my own TV show.”
I drop my hands from her face, standing back as I take a deep breath in, turning and letting it out on a long slow exhale. Clearly this is different for her and at this point, I’m not even sure what I can say to try and express how it is I’m feeling.
“Why…” I stop, taking another deep breath before turning to face her again. “Why can’t you just write something else?” I suggest. “A different book?”
A flash of anger crosses her face. “Because I want to write this book,” she says, as she holds out her arm and points to the tattooed words.
Words I said to her thirteen years ago.
write what you love.
“Even if I don’t want our story to be public like this?”
“It already is, Elliot,” she says, her hands up in question. “People already know and love our story and now they want the second part.”
“I see,” I say, looking away from her. “So what I want doesn’t matter?”
Nora steps toward me, placing her hand on my stomach as she looks up at me. “Why are you so against this?” she asks, her words quiet.
I look down at her, see all the confusion and questions in her eyes. “Why can’t you understand how this is different for me?”
She stares up at me, not saying anything now.
“Look, let’s just go,” I say, not wanting to continue this conversation in the middle of a New York street. “I need to think about getting back to Chicago too,” I continue as we both turn and start to walk back to her apartment. “There’s some stuff at work I need to take care of.”
Nora walks silently beside me, neither of us touching each other as we slowly make our way back to her apartment. It’s the first time I’ve raised the issue of going back home, even though both of us knew it was inevitable. We still haven’t talked fully about how this whole thing between us will play out either. Where we would live or whether we would try and make the long distance thing work.
I have a job and a home in Chicago and it’s pretty obvious that Nora is happy here in New York, close to her family and her beloved agent. And even though writing is something she could do anywhere, it feels like that possibility isn’t as certain as it once was.
It’s late by the time we walk into Nora’s apartment and she mumbles something about taking a shower before disappearing into the bathroom.
Exhaling, I collapse onto the couch, pulling my phone from my pocket as I search the airlines for a ticket back to Chicago. I know I can’t stay here indefinitely, at least not without sorting a few things out first. And even though the idea of leaving her, of going back home, even for a short period of time, makes me feel sick, maybe some space right now is what we need.
Maybe we need a chance to see how we feel about this whole relationship we’ve just jumped right into after a thirteen-year gap. I’d thought looking for her was always the hardest part, that once we found each other, everything else would be easy, but I can see now I was wrong.
Back when we were on that beach in San Diego, the possibilities had felt endless, as though there was no end to the dreams and the life we could have together. But it had just been one night. One night and one powerful connection that was then lost for over a decade.
And maybe now we’d found each other again, that connection wasn’t as powerful as we thought.
Exhaling, I book a one-way flight for tomorrow afternoon, knowing I need to rip the band-aid off sooner rather than later.
Once it’s done and I’ve confirmed the flight details, I throw my phone on the coffee table and stand. The shower is still running and I’m not sure if it’s because she doesn’t know how to face me with what she wants to happen in all of this.
And as undecided and unknown as all of this is, the one thing I do know is I don’t want to lose her. After all this time, I can’t lose her because of some stupid disagreement.
So I walk toward the bathroom, pulling my clothes off along the way. When I open the door, she stands with her back to me, her head in her hands and I can immediately tell she’s crying. I step into the cubicle, turning her and pulling her into my arms.
This time she wraps hers around me, holding on tight as her fingers dig into my back and her sobs grow louder.
Brushing her wet hair back from her face, I press kisses to her forehead, holding her close as I whisper, “I love you, Nora, no matter what happens, always remember that.”
Chapter Thirty-Four: Nora
Elliot’s arms wrap around me, the weight of them a comfort in a world of unknown. Everything about what we’re doing is an unknown and I think we’re even starting to wonder what the hell we’re doing. Is this really a viable relationship? Something that was built on one night over thirteen years ago? Society screams at us that what we’re doing is wrong and that we can’t possibly be that connected to someone without ever really knowing them. We have to date and let things play out, we have to move in together and learn each other’s quirks and intricacies that come from knowing someone for years. This is the way it’s supposed to be done, but what if I say fuck it? What if I don’t care what the world is telling us and what if what we had on that beach in San Diego was the start of an epic love story that has only just come to fruition? What if we walk away from this and we’re struck down by the memory of what we once had, what we could’ve been?
I do love him. I feel it in every part of my body. My heart races, my hands shakes, my stomach flutters and it’s like a current flows through me when I’m near him. It makes me feel alive.
He makes me feel alive.
We have lives we’ve created over the last thirteen years: jobs and friends and families, but do we really? I’ve always felt like my life was placed on hold even when I told myself to move on. I waited even when I wasn’t waiting.
I think most people get sick of waiting around to find their soulmate and settle for the easier route of commitment. No one jumps in headfirst because of the risk.
Maybe I want to jump in headfirst.
Maybe I want the risk.
I hold onto him with a fierceness that tells me to never let go. Our bodies are intertwined and tangled, all legs and arms and a desperate need to be together. Like this could be the last time ever.