Page 80 of Meet Me at the Metro

“Ellie?”

Connor’s voice is an answered prayer.

My limbs sag with respite as he reaches me and pulls me into a comforting embrace. I let out a cry of relief, “Oh my God. Thank you.”

He draws his head back to inspect me, his eyes glazed with worry. “Who was that? Are you okay?”

I steady my rapid breathing and calm my restless nerves before confessing, “I am now that you’re here.”

23

I'LL GO WITH YOU

E L L I E

“Tell me, Ellie. Who was that?” Connor softly requests.

I can’t fight the urge to pull my eyes away from him as he asks the question again. I don’t understand why a huge piece of me doesn’t want him—or anyone, for that matter—to know. It felt humiliating to recall how I allowed John to have his hands on me like that. It felt even more shameful to acknowledge that I ever dated someone who would do that to me.

“It—it’s not anyone important.”

“Come on,” he sighs worriedly. “What’s going on? Who was that?”

For a moment, in my head, I pretend that all this stuff with John is just a bad, recurring nightmare. I pretend that I’ll be able to wake up from this and realize that none of what he’s said or done is real, but deep down, I know that delusion is too good to be true.

This isreal—John isreallyin London now and becoming arealproblem that I need to deal with. I can’t choose to ignore it anymore because doing so would make me an absolute fool.

“You can tell me. I’m your friend, Ellie,” he reminds me, and that settles deep in my bones for some reason. “What’s going on?”

“It’s John.Thatwas John.”

Connor’s eyes widen. “Your ex-boyfriend, John—the John?How? Why is he here?”

There’s a slight tremor in my fingers as I explain, “He got accepted for the late fall semester, so he’s in London now. He’ll be here for the rest of the year.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not.”

Connor lets out a shaky exhale, and his lips tighten. “Why the hell was he cornering you?”

“Because he’s been trying to talk to me, but I’ve been avoiding him—”

“He shouldn’t have his hands on you like that.”

“I know,” I mutter, cutting my eyes to the stone pavement. “He’s not usually like that. He’s acting so differently, Connor, and I-I’m scared of him. I don’t know what the hell to do.”

“You tell the police and report his crazy arse.”

“Would they even be able to do anything? I don’t have any solid evidence of either one of our encounters. John would tell them I’m making it all up.”

“Either one?How many times has this happened?”

“Just tonight,” I blurt, riddled with shame.

“Don’t lie.”

“And one other time a few weeks ago.”

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