Page 14 of Monsters, Vows, and Growls
Inside the window, Ella turned, reaching for her coffee, completely unaware that I was standing there trying to breathe through the weight of ten years. I exhaled once, hard, like that might steady my hands. Then I shoved the phone into my pocket and walked back inside the restaurant.
The air smelled of dust and coffee and her perfume, and something about it hit me square in the chest. She was still standing by the wall, brush dangling from her fingers, deep in concentration.
I cleared my throat.
She looked over, startled. “That was fast.”
I nodded, stepping inside. “Yeah. It was… brief.”
Ella arched an eyebrow and turned back to the wall, lifting the brush again. "Everything okay?”
Now or never.
“Ella,” I said, voice lower than I meant it to be.
She paused but didn’t turn. “Mmhmm?”
I rubbed the back of my neck, swallowed, and went for it. “Do you want to go to dinner with me?”
The brush froze mid-stroke. She turned to look at me slowly, as if unsure she'd heard me correctly. Her face wasn’t confused, though—it was stricken. Pale. Her eyes were wide and stunned. She looked like I’d slapped her. Or stabbed her. She looked hurt.
My stomach dropped.
She didn’t speak right away. Just stared at me with that unreadable expression and something flickering behind her eyes that looked a lot like pain.
“I—” she began, then stopped. Her throat moved as she swallowed. “Why would you ask me that?”
I blinked. “Because I want to take you out.”
A pause.
“You want to take me out?” she echoed, voice quieter now. “After all this time? Aftereverything?”
I shifted, caught off guard by the sharp edge in her voice.
“Ella, I know it’s been a long time, and I know?—”
She cut me off, eyes flashing. “Ten years, Patrick. Ten years of nothing. And now you want totake me outlike we’re picking up where we left off?”
Okay. This was going sideways.
Thorne winced inside me.Abort. Abort. Grovel harder, idiot.
“I’m not trying to pick up where we left off,” I said quickly. “I just… I want a chance to get to know you again.”
She stared at me, her lips parted slightly, and for a second, I thought I saw her crack. A flicker of something softer—hope, maybe—before the wall came right back up.
“I need to get back to work,” she said stiffly, and turned back to the wall.
Thorne groaned.This is what happens when you lead with dinner instead of an apology.
I stood there for a moment, stunned. My feet felt like concrete.
“I’ll be in the truck,” I muttered, and turned around.
As I walked out, Thorne’s voice followed me, bone dry and unimpressed.Good job, Romeo. You went in for dinner and walked out with emotional frostbite. What’s next? Gonna offer her a Groupon for closure?
How torturous can a day be?
