36. Ella

CHAPTER 36

ELLA

It's 7:05pm and there's a knock on my door. Well, at least he's shown up tonight . I've actually been home since 5pm, but I didn't want him here for dinner. I'm still too upset over Sunday night to have him over for a meal. I get up from the couch and walk over to the door. I lift my chin and straighten my spine, trying to make myself appear indifferent. I open the door and there he is, still in his work attire, looking a little dishevelled. He's not leaning on the doorframe this time, and he doesn't greet me with a bright smile like normal. Something tells me this is going to be a difficult conversation.

"Hey."

"Hey. Can I come in?"

"Yeah."I step aside for him to walk in and close the door behind him, taking a moment to settle myself before turning and facing him. He's staring at me with something that looks very much like guilt in his eyes. I hold his stare for a while before he takes two steps forward and draws me into his arms. He crushes me into him and it's with instinct that I wrap my arms around his waist. I don't know how long we stand there not saying anything, and just holding each other. Eventually, I'm the one to break the hug. I step back and I don't look at him as I walk over to the couch and sit, wrapping myself in my blanket.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" I ask .

He walks over and sits next to me on the couch. He looks like he's about to take my hand, but he hesitates and decides not to. He clears his throat.

"First, I want to say sorry again for the other night. If I had known that you'd gone to all that effort for me, I never would have cancelled on you."

"It's fine. I should have told you what I had planned."

"No, it's not fine, and don't try and blame yourself just because you didn't tell me your plan. I was an arsehole, it's as simple as that. And for me to just assume I could come over later in the night to fuck, after everything you'd done for me? I'm so sorry."

I'm about to say it's fine, but I hold my tongue. He upset me, and so he should know exactly how he made me feel.

"You're right, it's not fine. We hadn't seen each other properly in three weeks, and you ditched me. If you had called earlier, it might have been fine, but I felt like an afterthought. And when you said you could still come over later in the night, it made me feel cheap. Like… I was only worth your time if you got to fuck me."

He looks as though I've just shattered him with my words."Ella, that's not how it is at all."

"That may be so," I say, "but it's how you made me feel in the moment, regardless of it not being your intention."

"It wasn't. I never want to make you feel as though I'm only with you for the sex. That's not how I feel about you. You're my friend, first and foremost. You know I think the world of you. But you're right, and I don't want to invalidate your feelings by trying to tell you that you shouldn't feel that way. I can't tell you how sorry I am. Truly."

"I know."

We're quiet for a moment, and when I look at him, he's staring at the floor. He looks defeated.

"That's not all you wanted to talk about, is it?" I ask tentatively.

"No, it's not." He pauses. "I wanted to talk about us."

"Okay. What about us?"

"When we first started this, we promised each other it would be a strictly physical relationship—friends with benefits, if you will. That obviously changed, we both admit that."

"Yeah," I whisper. I don't know where this is going, but my gut is telling me it's not good.

"This all happened before Dad retired. I thought I could do it all, you know? Establish myself in the new role and make my family proud; work hard to make Jimmies the best damn pub around. I also wanted to make you happy and see if we could turn this ‘friendship' we have into something more. I thought once I got the job I could do it." His throat bobs.

"But?"

"But I can't. And I've had to think about where I really need to put my focus right now." He looks at me with unshed tears in his eyes.

"And I'm not that focus." I say.

"I can't give you the love and attention you deserve, Ell. I've been waiting for years to take over Jimmies, and it's finally happened. It's my dream. And then you came along at a time where I was faced with all of this extra responsibility and this extra pressure to achieve something great. You deserve someone who can make you their priority. Someone who won't ditch you because they worked too late and can commit to you wholeheartedly. I can't give you that right now. Look at what's happened already, I've barely had time to talk to you or see you, and the first opportunity I have, I bail. I've already hurt you; I can't do it again."

A few tears slide down his cheek and I resist the urge to swipe them away. It's not my job to comfort him, not when my own heart is breaking.

"I understand," I murmur. I can't find any other words to say. I suspected this was coming—I knew, deep down, this would be ending.

"I just really need to focus on the business right now, I can't afford any distractions."

My head snaps up at that.

"Distractions." I repeat. "I'm sorry… are you insinuating that what I am to you is a distraction?" I can feel my anger bubbling to the surface.

"No, I didn't mean it like that—" he backtracks.

"Yes, you did. Trying to give me attention is distracting you from your work. Awesome. It's nice to know that while I'm over here being supportive, encouraging and caring for you more than I have anyone else, you simply see me as a distraction." Tears well in my eyes and fuck, I wish they would go away. I can't cry right now. Words are bubbling to the surface, and I can feel myself losing control.

"Ell, please."

"I love you!" I tell him, tears escaping. "That's probably the worst thing for you to hear right now, but I fucking love you Xavier."

He's gone completely still. He looks at me like a broken man, torn between one dream and another.

"You love me," he whispers.

I nod. "Yes. I love you. I tried so hard not to fall, I promised you that I wouldn't. I promised myself, because I knew that falling for a man who couldn't love me back was destined to end in disaster."

"Ella… look at me." I shake my head. "Look at me." He places his hand on my cheek and turns my head so he's looking me in the eye."I wish I could give you what you want. You know how much you mean to me." He's openly crying now.

"But not enough." I whisper.

He drops his hand and his face crumples, and my heart shatters along with it. "I can't do it all. I can't lead you on and keep you waiting around for me to sort my shit out. It's not fair. You deserve so much more and it's selfish of me to keep you around, just because I'm desperate to hold on to you."

I turn away from him then.

"I wish things could be different. I wish we'd met in like six months' time and the business had settled, and the timing was perfect." He mumbles.

"The timing is perfect for me." I state.

"I know."

"So… what? We just completely cut contact. No communication at all, never seeing each other again?" I ask.

"I… I don't know." He ponders. "At first, no contact is probably the best. "

We sit in silence for a few minutes more and I can't handle it anymore.

"I need to be alone right now, Xavier. Can you go? Please?" I beg.

"Yeah. Of course." He gets up off of the couch, slowly, like this conversation has aged him 30 years. I get up and follow him to the door on shaking legs, my body on the brink of an emotional breakdown.

We get to the door, and he turns to me and pulls me into his arms again, gently this time. I hold on to him because this might just be the last time I do. I inhale his scent, committing it to memory because I never want to forget how comforting the smell of him is. I look up at him, both of us still crying. I memorise every inch of his face. When I can't take anymore, when my heart starts hurting too much, I pull away, wiping the tears from my cheeks.

"Goodbye, Xavier," I whisper.

"Goodbye, Ella. I'm sorry." He doesn't bother to wipe the tears from his face as he turns and walks out the door.

A small sob escapes my lips as I close the door behind him before he can turn around for a final look, not knowing if my heart could handle it. I throw myself back down on the couch and cry, and cry, and cry. Finally, I call Millie.

"Hey, Ell!" she answers.

"Millie…" I sob.

"Oh, fuck. I'll be there in 20 minutes."