Page 86 of Love Him Like Water

“Good coffee?” he asked.

“You know. The kind with lots of cream and sugar and whipped cream. More calories than a whole meal. That good kind.”

His lips curved up at that, his smile a little softer. But then went sad.

“I can’t leave the door,” he told me, his face falling all the more as I felt my own mood plummet.

Right.

The door.

The only reason Elian was even here.

Not for me.

Not to be my friend.

I didn’t have friends here.

I didn’t have family.

I didn’t really even have a husband.

The weight of that crashed down on me, leaving me feeling a hundred pounds heavier, making my chest go concave.

“Right,” I said, forcing a smile, figuring Elian was likely sick of seeing me sad. Almost as sick as I was of being sad. “How about I bring you back one?” I asked, putting some extra pep in my words, even if I knew he could see right through it.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” he said, giving me that sympathetic smile of his that only ever felt like knives to my already tender heart.

Because he, practically a stranger to me, saw how unhappy I was. While my own husband was oblivious.

“What’s your favorite flavor? I think I’m leaning toward mocha today. I could use some chocolate.”

“I could go for that.”

“Whipped cream? Fair warning, I will judge you if you opt out of whipped cream. It’s the best part.”

“Whipped cream sounds good.”

“Hot or cold? I know it’s like twenty degrees out, but I am feeling a frappe today.”

“Get me what you’re getting yourself,” he said, reaching into his pocket.

“You better not be reaching for money,” I said, small eyeing him. “My treat. Well, Renzo’s treat,” I said, just his name causing a pang.

“Alright,” he said, not wanting to push it, likely seeing my achy heart in my eyes.

“Okay. I will be… twenty minutes,” I told him.

I hadn’t been going out a lot.

A coffee run here and there.

But it no longer felt weird leaving the apartment.

I slipped into my shoes.

Then grabbed my heaviest hoodie.

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