Page 59 of Unspoken Words
“I know. I just … I just need some space right now. I’ve got mid-year exams coming up, and I need to focus.”
He ran his hand through his disheveled hair. “And you can’t focus when I’m around?”
“I can’t focus when you’re jealous. I can’t focus when you’re mad, or when you snap, and I can’t focus when you touch me … when you say you love me without saying it.”
He closed the distance between us and clasped my face, the pads of his thumbs gently wiping away my tears. “Ellie, you know you mean the world to me.”
“And that’s why we need this break. Your future rests on how well you do this year, Connor, so you need to love your study more than you love me. You need to focus.Ineed to focus.”
His damp, pleading eyes searched mine. “Does this have anything to do with Tristan or Lilah? Because I told you, Lilah means nothing to me.”
“No,” I sobbed, trying desperately to see through the wall of tears now flooding my eyes. “It’s to do with us, and only us. We need this break.”
He wiped away more tears. “I disagree, but, fine, if space is what you need to get through this year, then I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you anything you want and need.” He closed his eyes and kissed my forehead, his lips lingering with desperation I felt to my very core. I wanted to throw my arms around him and anchor his body to my own. I wanted to tell him I’d changed my mind and to never leave me like that again. But I knew you had to be set free to find your way home. I just hoped I was Connor’s home, like he was mine.
Moving away, he made for the door, turned the handle, and pulled it open. “This is not ‘a break’, Ellie,” he said without looking back. “It’s a breather, so breathe.”
The door closed behind him, and I gasped for the air he’d once again stolen from me. And, for once, it was my words that went unspoken.
Chapter Sixteen
Ellie
For the months that followed, I buried my head in schoolwork and kept away from Connor as much as I possibly could. I didn’t know what was worse, seeing him or not seeing him, and even when I didn’t see him, I did—every night, when I closed my eyes. He was there in my darkness, and I missed him.
But we needed to focus on ourselves and our study, not on each other, which was why, despite my brother’s awful driving skills, I’d bribed Chris with daily Milo milkshakes to drive me to and from school to avoid taking the bus. All I knew was that Connor distracted every waking and non-waking moment of my life when I allowed him to, and with both of our best interests in mind, I couldn’t allow that to happen anymore.
Ideally, for my plan of schooling-first-relationship-later to work effectively, I would’ve opted to go Connor-Cold-Turkey, but a month after our ‘breather’ started, he turned eighteen, and I wouldn’t have missed celebrating that milestone with him for the world. In fact, I’d celebrated just a little too much and made love to him, and oh my God it had been amazing. Just thinking of how my body fizzled like dynamite as we frantically tore at each other’s clothing in his bedroom after dinner. How he’d picked me up and gently laid me on his bed, his hands feverish on my skin, his lips delicate yet hungry on my mouth, his eyes full of unspoken words that we both knew, if said, would slice our hearts to shreds. So we hadn’t spoken a word as he’d rocked into me and I dug my fingernails into his back. We hadn’t spoken when his tears fell to mine as we reached our climax. We hadn’t spoken while we redressed and I kissed him goodbye. And we haven’t spoken since, which was why I felt dead inside.
I was sure he hated me for putting us both through this. God knows I hated myself for that very reason. But I had to, because he wouldn’t have.
“You need to eat something, sweetie,” Mum said as she stood at the kitchen bench, her apron tied around her slender waist, a roast beef sizzling in the oven for Sunday dinner.
I swirled my spoon in the bowl of tomato soup she’d made for lunch. “I’m not hungry.”
“You didn’t eat breakfast, and you let Chris steal your banana. Eloise, you’d float away with the wind if it blew hard enough.”
She was right. I’d lost too much weight recently and not purposely. Food was no longer appetising, study was time consuming, and every other second was spent trying not to focus on how much I missed my boyfriend. It was all excruciating.
“Have you spoken to him lately?” She looked up from chopping a carrot, her eyes sad but kind.
“No.”
“Don’t you think you should?”
“No.”
“Eloise—”
“Mum, pleeeease. I’m doing this for a reason.”
“I know that, honey, but perhaps you’re not doing it the best way.”
I stabbed at the bowl, the chink of metal hitting porcelain loud and obtrusive. “It’s the only way.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Did I tell you he was going to apply for a course in Darwin just because I was?”
