Page 6 of Yearning For Her

Willow snatched up her champagne and gulped it down, not even tasting it this time.

Eli groaned and sat back in his chair, scrubbing a hand over his face. “This didn’t go the way I hoped.”

She glared at him and refilled her glass. “Ya think?”

“Please, Will, let’s just have a nice dinner and talk. We’ll work it out. You and Marissa will come around to this.”

“There is nothing to work out.” Willow rose to her feet and thrust her glass forward. Champagne splashed over Eli’s face.

Eli sputtered, scooting his chair back loudly as he spread his arms. Champagne dripped down his face and hair. “Willow! What the fuck?”

A hush fell over the restaurant, but Willow didn’t care. She’d cause as much of as scene as she damn well pleased. “You’re a self-centered, manipulative asshole, and we’re through.”

She spun and strode away, shoulders back and head held high, ignoring the hushed whispers, the judgmental stares, the pitying looks, and the burn behind her eyes as she held in her tears.

At least until she stepped out of the restaurant.

Two

All Willow’s fury came crashing down, leaving her only with shame, resentment, and worst of all, heartache. She’d begun the evening with such high hopes, with such boundless excitement, and it had all been shattered in a matter of minutes.

She didn’t want to cry. Eli didn’t deserve her tears. He didn’t deserve a single damned thing more from her, especially not after all he’d taken, but here she was, walking along the busy boulevard with tears welling in her eyes.

Willow sniffled and wiped beneath her eyes with the back of her hand, keeping her head bowed so her hair hid her face. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this. Didn’t want anyone to see her falling apart.

She didn’t have the words to describe the storm of emotions ravaging her, but her heart hurt.

She turned the corner and continued forward, putting as much distance between herself and Eden as possible. Her hurried steps brought her onto a footbridge spanning the river. Once she reached the middle, where the arched bridge was at its highest, she stopped, folded her arms atop the railing, and looked down. Dark water flowed below, flickering with reflections from nearby streetlights and buildings. The night breeze swept around her, fluttering her skirt and hair, and making the tears on her cheeks cold as ice.

Willow drew in a deep, shuddering breath.

“Stupid, selfish prick,” she muttered.

Those words only brought more tears. She couldn’t resummon her anger, couldn’t use it to shield herself. Willow drew her lips in and bit down on them to contain the sob threatening to escape her.

Before Eli, she’d been struggling through the hellscape that was the dating world. She’d had a few disastrous dates during which she’d been told that she hadn’t looked so fat in her profile pictures. She’d had one where the man had berated their waiter for bringing the wrong drink before turning to Willow, slipping on a smile, and continuing their conversation as though nothing had happened.

She’d encountered so many men who’d had no qualms about putting a woman down and making her feel ashamed of herself, her appearance, her preferences. So many men who’d talked down to her or treated her like she was dumb. And many of those men had considered themselves nice guys.

Still, there’d been relationships that survived the first date. Some had fallen apart within two or three weeks. A few had lasted for several months and had become, at least to Willow, somewhat serious. But her boyfriends’ true colors always emerged eventually.

The last date she’d gone on, months before she’d met Eli, had nearly broken her. At the man’s suggestion, she’d agreed to split the bill beforehand. She had no problem with that. It was totally reasonable, especially on a first date. But the man had given her the strangest, most judgmental look after she’d ordered a prime rib for herself. When she asked about it, he’d claimed nothing was wrong—in a snippy tone that suggested everything was wrong. She’d pressed him, and he’d ultimately launched into a rant about how unappealing it would be to watch her eat a dripping steak, how unladylike it was of her, how she should’ve ordered something daintier, something more feminine.

Something less fattening.

The date had ended before their food arrived.

She’d nearly given up hope then. At the tender age of twenty-three, she’d nearly decided her romantic life was over, that it was never meant to be. She’d been so, so tired. So hurt. But that pain had driven her to find herself, to learn to love herself, to embrace her body and her personality. Her whole life had begun to change as she altered her mindset.

That was when she’d found Eli. He’d seemed so different than all the others. Good-looking, charming, always saying the right things. He’d never once made her feel bad because of her weight. They’d had fun together. And sometimes, he’d been so kind, so thoughtful. She’d fallen for him.

She knew now that he'd only seemed so great because her past experiences had set the bar very, very low. She'd convinced herself that all the little things that felt wrong were normal, that it was just her.

But the signs had been there. The red flags. She could recognize some now, despite the rawness of her pain.

Those moments of thoughtfulness from him had been few and far between, and they’d only been memorable because of the long stretches of nothingness between them.

She’d spent so much time and energy being available for Eli whenever he needed her, keeping him happy, helping him relax after stressful workdays. When had he ever done the same for her? All their plans had always revolved around him, and any scheduling conflicts had always been resolved by Willow canceling whatever she’d had going on.

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