Page 81 of Challenged By You
Without further delay, I do.
Forty-five minutes later, Elle’s tough facade has cracked. At one point, she called Baptiste for a glass of water. At first, I thought she was going to throw it at me, but she turned away and drank it. “Sorry, I just needed a moment. Go on.”
So, I did. It got hard when I explained how the feelings I was having for Trina made me worry I wasn’t going to be objective, so we worked out this arrangement for the menu. Her hand clenched into a fist on the table. When I told Elle I justknewI caused Trina’s accident with the mixer, her whispered “Oh, Jonas” almost broke me in two.
“Then she was dreaming. She kept calling out all these recipes,” I whisper, tormented.
“She does that.” Elle’s voice is sadly amused. My head snaps up. “Used to drive me mad when we lived together. She’d be reciting recipes for these amazing dishes in her sleep, and I’d wake up hungry. I put on ten pounds when we lived together because I ended up baking that shit in the middle of the night.”
I bark out a laugh before her next words sober me again. “So, you know what they’re making?” Elle pointedly asks me.
I shake my head. “Only the featured ingredients. I knew the talent in this kitchen could force me to reevaluate the way I perceived things. Trina has done that so often over the last month, from small things like places to eat to enormous things like apples. She’s constantly changing my misconceptions and making me a better man. And I hurt her and let her down.” My head is in my hands as soon as the words are out of my mouth.
There’s silence between us when I hear Elle’s chair scrape back. Overwhelmed, I realize this is it. I inhale sharply and am about to let it all out when her hand landing on my shoulder causes my lungs to constrict.
“I think you let yourself down. And that’s why you’re beating yourself up.”
What am I supposed to say to that? Standing, I hold out a hand. “I appreciate you listening,” I state formally.
“Jesus, you’re as much of a daft bat as she is.” The next moment, my arms are filled with a petite curvaceous redhead. Pulling back, I’m startled to find Elle wiping her fingers under her eyes. “She’s hurting, Jonas. You’re going to have to say a lot in a short amount of time to get through to her,” Elle warns me.
A weight lifts from my chest. “You think I’ll have a chance of her forgiving me?” I manage to get out.
A watery laugh escapes. “I think you need to give her a few days to get through the worst of the pain. Both of you need to get through this review. Then get in her face.”
“Do you think it will work?” I ask anxiously.
“I think no one’s cared enough to try,” she says evasively.
It’s not the answer I want, but it’s better than I expected when I came down here. “You’re one in a million, Elle. Trina’s lucky to have you.” I turn to head out the front doors when I hear my name called out behind me. “Yes?” I stop and turn.
“I don’t suppose you have any single relatives,” Elle jokes.
I’m about to come back with a teasing comment when something strikes me hard. Standing there in the middle of the sexiest restaurant in New York, it strikes me how lonely the vivacious Elle Bruder truly is. So, instead of teasing, I call back, “I’ll work on that for you.”
Her eyes pop, before she tosses her head with a laugh and heads back toward the kitchen.
Meanwhile, I’m mentally adjusting small things I’ve already written for the article in my brother’s column. Later I’ll give some thought to him and the firecracker I just encountered.
Much later.
Chapter 30
Trina
It’s been days since I’ve received a text from Jonas. It’s well and truly over. As I ride the subway to work tonight, I curse my stubbornness for not answering him once, even if it was just to tell him I needed time.
That’s all I need, isn’t it? Time. Time to heal from the physical pain and the emotional pain I was shocked he could inflict on me.
Elle’s been over the last several days, showing up with CORE water, protein bars, and a hug. “Remember what the doctor said. You need extra minerals, protein every few hours, extra water, and lots of rest. This should do the trick.”
And the first time she stood at my door, I cried because I was thrilled to see her and distraught because I was hoping it was Jonas.
The next day, his texts started, but by then, I began to slowly close out the pain. “After all,” I rationed to Elle, “I have two kids who are my priority.”
“Annie and Chris will never not be your priority, darling.” Handing me a perfectly scrambled plate of eggs, she picked up her own and sat at my feet. “But what does all of this make you feel?”
“Like crying,” I blurted out. “He just walked out, Elle. I was hurting and he left me.”
