Page 76 of Lost Love Found

“Yeah,” I say with a sigh, “tomorrow. I should be done within the next two weeks.”

“OK, so we have two weeks to figure out what to do.” He squints his eyes, waving a slice of bacon in the air as he talks. “That’ll give her time to sort through some of her shit, too. Hopefully, Maeve, Chuck and Mrs. James will knock some sense into our girl.”

“I’m just supposed to go two weeks without seeing her? Without talking to her?” I drop my fork loudly on my plate and Raf looks up, eyes intense.

“Yeah. You’re supposed to give her as much fucking time as she needs to realize that not every man she loves will leave her. That it fucking sucks that Andy died, that her dad died, and that she had to live with the unknown of whether Owen would die for years. But that it doesn’t mean she has to be too scared to love anyone again.” He takes a sip of his orange juice and shakes his head. “She thinks she’s broken, Adam. She thinks she can’t love anyone. That she doesn’t get to fall in love again because she already had that once.” He scoffs, looking down at his plate. “Can you believe that? Baby girl thinks all she gets in this life is a few months of being in love when she was 18. Her! The girl who loves bigger than anyone else I know thinks she’s maxed out on how much love she gets in this lifetime.”

I hold my breath, my heart pounding in my chest as his words wash over me. Suddenly, it all makes sense — why Elaina always keeps her distance, never lets anyone outside of her circle get too close. I can understand why she loved so deeply, yet has such a hard time believing in the love of others. His revelations give me a newfound appreciation for my best friend and just how closely he pays attention to those around him.

“When I came back from my last tour, I knew I wasn’t going back. Elaina was the first person I told. Do you know why?” I shake my head. “Because despite how scared I knew my mom was and how worried my family got, she was the one having night terrors. The fact that she loves me kept her awake at night more times than I’m sure she’s admitted to. She loves with her whole heart, but she has a really hard time accepting that love back.”

We finish our breakfast in comfortable silence, and I begin to consider new ways I can reach her—show her that I understand her need for space and still remain unyielding in my commitment to our love. Though I have no idea what that will look like, I'm determined to find a way.

* * *

We’re getting ready to board our plane and head back to LA when my phone pings with a text from Elaina.

TORNEROSE

Please stay at my house. I won’t be there for a little while and I don’t want you to worry about looking for another place to stay or going to a hotel. Please.

I don’t know what to write back. I’m gutted that she’s not going back to LA yet. I want to see her so badly. And I’m not sure if staying at her house will be comforting or torturous. I don’t know how to respond, so I turn my phone off and get on the plane.

By the time we land, I have a plan. I’m going to stay at Elaina’s house, but only because it’s the only way I can accomplish what I’m setting out to do. She has to come home, eventually.

I turn my phone back on and respond to Elaina’s text.

OK baby. I love you.

On my way back to her house, I pick up Frankie at the dog sitter and head to her house. I have work to do.

* * *

It’s been two days since I last heard from Elaina. I’ve backed off from messaging her because I want to give her the time she asked for, but fuck, this is hard. I miss her. I miss everything about her. The constant music playing in the house. The smell of whatever delicious thing she’s baking or cooking. The way she hums as she cleans or does yoga or pours her coffee.

Thank god we’re almost done shooting. I’ve never wished time away as much as I do right now. I just want her to come back.

On day nine. I've just finished on set and the light of my phone casts a bluish hue over my face and I scan the day’s notifications, searching for her name amongst them. When I see it, my chest tightens painfully, and I quickly shove my phone back in my pocket, willing the anxious beating of my heart to subside. I quickly take it back out to read her messages.

TORNEROSE

I miss you. I miss you so much. But I think I need this time away to really be on my own.

I hope you’re taking care of yourself and resting. Maeve says you’ve been tired.

I miss you.

She misses me. The tiny seedling of hope I've been hanging on sprouts a delicate green shoot and unfurls its leaves.

I miss you, Tornerose. More than I can say.

I’m OK. Promise.

I love you.

I stare at my phone, waiting. I know she’s not going to write back and a part of me is thankful for it because I don’t want just text messages. I want her. I want all of her. Here.

* * *

---