Page 19 of Elijah
“Yeah,” I huffed. “I certainly laid that one on a plate for you, didn’t I?”
Elijah let out a breath and shook his head. “You’re never going to listen to me, are you?”
“It’s hard to listen to lies, Elijah.” I sucked in my lips and prayed that I didn’t start to cry, because even after five years I still wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over my broken marriage.
“All I wanted was for you to listen, Amy. Listen and then make up your mind, but you couldn’t even afford me that luxury, could you?”
We stared at each other and it was evident that at least we had the sense not to speak for fear of saying something that could never be forgiven. Finally, Elijah scrubbed his large hand down his face and did a half-turn toward the back door.
“One thing you should know,” he said, his voice strained. “I fucking loved you and the thought that you would think I could hurt you like that, well that’s what gutted me the most.”
He then stormed out, slamming the door so hard the cups in the sink rattled, and I’ve never wanted anything more than to be able to turn back time and do things differently.
