Once we’re alone, her name finally graces my lips.
“Ella.” It’s breathless like a prayer from a drowning man. I take a deep breath to gather the escaping air in my lungs and stand taller, slipping my hands into my jean pockets.
“Hey,” she says with a small wave.
“Hey,” I reply as if it’s the only word I can muster. I shake my head, regaining some sense of manners. “Welcome to The Red Barn Table.” I wave a hand around me at the transformation of the low building that looked like nothing more than a dilapidated building before this amazing space came together. Whitewashed shiplap covers the walls with twinkling mini lights highlighting the low ceiling. Some greenery and short candles will be the final touches with the linen-covered tables and an array of varied chairs.
Ella looks around the room. Her eyes scan the bar in the back corner and then stop on a focal point near a newly rebuilt fireplace.
“I was hoping you could use it,” she says, a slow smile curling her lips.
“It was very generous of you,” I mutter. My tone is cold despite the gift. I didn’t understand when the painting arrived. A card attached said: This made me think of where my heart lives.
The note confused me, and I wanted to refuse the gift, but the longer I stared at it, the longer I saw connections to Ella and myself. The dock on the lake. The dancing couple. The twilight lit tree. The primarily black and white painting with touches of blue and gold is an excellent accent piece of a restaurant near a lake and stands out against the mostly white interior of the place. It was thoughtful even if I wasn’t completely certain what to think of it or the note accompanying it.
When I don’t say anything else, Ella steps toward me, and I try not to flinch away, but I’m keeping my “ingredients” as Mum called them tight to my chest. I won’t play the fool again.
“This place is incredible,” she finally says, eyeing everything one more time, and I hate the awkwardness between us.
“I’m pretty pleased with how it’s turning out. Now, let’s just hope people come to eat and actually like the food.”
“It’s going to be wonderful,” she says, returning her eyes to mine and holding them. “I made you something.” She holds out a box, and I reach for the gift.
Inside is a black and white image of a woman with a maple leaf before her cheek. Her eyes are just above the outline of the foliage. She’s focused on something outside the image. The eyes tell a story of longing, knowledge, and a hint of teasing. She has a secret. There’s heart shape cut out in the middle of the leaf. Whether intentional or somehow natural, the heart hints at what the woman holds inside. Only the person who knows the significance of a maple leaf to her understands. In scripted letters along the bottom of the image is a saying.
I don’t need to share myself with the world. I only want to share myself with you.
I rub my thumb over the edge of the frame, staring down at the image and the words. “What are you saying?” I immediately decide I’m asking too much. “I mean, what are you doing here?”
“I’m here to make a fuss over you, Ethan Scott.”
My head pops up, and I stare at her. Her expression is hesitant while hopeful.
“How?” I ask, my voice lowering.
“I think a little groveling might be involved. Along with a giant apology. Then some begging and perhaps sexual favors.”
I bite my lip, trying not to smile at her openness. Her face lights up with her words. She looks different in some ways, and I decide it’s her confidence that gives her the new glow.
“But first, I’m starting with a grand gesture.”
“I thought the suit was a gesture,” I admit, releasing my lip and averting my eyes. The admission is a reminder of how foolish I’d been to race off to New York without contact from her and make assumptions about her feelings.
“I’m hoping this is bigger. I bought a studio. I’m going to sell my clothing line myself.”
I nod, not understanding how such a thing is a gesture toward me. “That’s . . . exciting. Congratulations.”
Ella smiles despite my cautious congratulations. “It is exciting. The place is right in town and—”
I hold up a hand to stop her. “What town?” I hate that I’m asking, but something inside me flickers with hope.
“Elk Lake City.” She holds my gaze while a smile breaks out on her face. I’ve never seen her so happy.
“What?” The question is sharper than I intend, but I don’t understand what she’s playing at. If she returns to town, I’d have to see her. It’s a small place, so I’m certain to run into her. I glance down at the photo in my hands and read the inscription again. Then I consider her words.
I’m here to make a fuss over you.
“There’s an old clothing shop in town, and it needs clothes. There’s a studio above it where I can work, and I can sell my line through the store below.”
I set the gift on the nearest table and step closer to her.
“Ella, what are you really saying?” What is she doing here?
“I told you. Grovel. Apologize. Beg. Favors.” She ticks off the list with her fingers. “And fuss.”
“I didn’t think you considered this place your home.”
“You’re my home, Ethan. Where you are is where I want to be.” She holds up her wrist, and I see the birthday gift I gave her—the Michigan-shaped heart charm. I recall the words I wrote to her, and she speaks. “My heart wants to meet yours again.” Hope rushes through me. I step forward, cupping Ella’s cheeks. “What are you saying?” I repeat.
“I’m sorry, and I love you, and I can explain everything.”
I hear her, but I don’t want to talk. Not yet. Instead, my mouth crushes hers, and she falls against me, clutching at my shirt. Our mouths meld together as though we haven’t been apart for months. As if she didn’t break my heart. She’s back. She’s back. It’s all I can think about as her mouth matches mine, hungry and hopeful. We slowly pull apart, and I watch as she slides her hand down my arm. Her fingers curl into mine.
“Hold my hand,” she whispers. I lift our collective hands and kiss her knuckles.
“Tell me everything,” I demand. Ella leads me to the table, and keeping our hands together, she begins.
“I’m seeing a therapist. At first, we talked about the first attack and the second. Then we talked about my parents.” She blows out a breath. “Their control over me. Being away from them, I’ve sort of felt like I was in-between. Between who I was and who I wanted to be. Still stuck with the uncertainty of my attack and feeling incomplete. Then I met you. You made me want to be whole, but I realized I couldn’t do that until I got myself out of the in-between part. Does that make any sense?”
I nod because I’ve been in the same spot. I’d left college and worked in various places, but I hadn’t gotten to the next level. I hadn’t been pushed to get to where I wanted to be. Being with her had been the break I needed.
“I needed to do a few things on my own. To know I could do them on my own. I had demons to face before I felt like I could give all of me to you.”