8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Elias

Thirteen Years Old

"And then Jarman went behind the goalie and got the puck before it hit the net! It was awesome," I exclaimed, practically bursting with excitement as I babbled out the entire game at the dinner table. The Jarmans were all smiling at me, but my sisters rolled their eyes.

"Sounds like fun, son. Now, how about you let others speak at the table?" my dad interjected; his tone gentle but firm.

I laughed, feeling a tad embarrassed. "Oops, sorry."

"It's fine, really,” Anne chimed in my defense. “It sounds like a very exciting game."

I felt a reassuring squeeze on my knee and glanced at Shane, who glared at my dad across the table. He didn't like it when people tried to shut me down. It happened a lot, but I didn't mind. Because in the end, I knew I could always count on Shane to listen to anything I had to say.

Present

"I like this," Jenna remarked, running her fingers through my newly cropped hair. I tried to muster a genuine smile, hoping she wouldn't see through the facade. My hair was now shorter on the sides, leaving just enough on top for her to run her hands through. I missed my unruly mop, but my dad’s approval was enough to make me do it. In the week since I had returned home, I had taken several steps towards adulthood—I had sorted out new suits, arranged for weekly dry cleaning, and made a true effort to step up at my job.

"Thank you. I felt it was time for a change. Would you like to go out tonight after work? Maybe for a nice dinner?" I suggested, hoping to spend more time with her.

Her pretty face contorted into a guilty smile. "I actually have plans. I'm going out with some colleagues to an art exhibition."

"Tomorrow then?" I replied, trying to hide my disappointment.

"Yeah, maybe." She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before hopping off my lap, leaving me alone in the apartment once again.

As I sat there, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was missing something yet again. Ignoring the nagging doubt, I simply resolved to make more plans. There wasn’t any sense in dwelling.

I strode into the office that morning, ignoring the wide-eyed looks that followed me as I smoothed down my perfectly tailored suit. Georgia greeted me with an appreciative stare, lip quirking at the sight of me, and the pathological people pleaser in me preened like a cat soaking up the sun on the sidewalk.

"Mr. Michaels would like to see you," she announced, and I nodded in acknowledgment.

I headed to my father's door, the memory of our conversation from last Friday still raw in my mind. I knocked, pushing aside the unease churning in my stomach—I couldn't handle any more disappointment.

"Come in, Elias."

Taking a seat across from him, I studied his expression, relieved to find the warm smile that mirrored the ones he used to give me when he talked about working together.

"Well, despite the rocky start, son, your work the past couple of days has been commendable. Gamechangers wants you to run with your idea,” he announced, his words sinking in slowly. “Which means you're getting the promotion. Georgia will show you to your office and introduce you to your new assistant."

I was in a state of shock. I could barely function enough to mutter a thank-you. My father stood and shook my hand before opening the door for Georgia. I moved on autopilot, following her down the hall to an eager assistant and a lavish office, already filled with my belongings from my previous intern desk.

From my new vantage point, I could see the interns in the bullpen, their gazes fixed on me as if I had just stole the last donut in the break room.

I sighed, brushing off their glares. My assistant, Megan, greeted me with a bubbly personality. She was a curvy girl with fiery red hair and big hot pink glasses, giving off a cool vibe.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Michaels? Any errands, coffee? You name it, I'm here," she offered eagerly.

"Eli is fine," I muttered absentmindedly, my mind already drifting to the mountain of work awaiting me. My original plan of organizing a date would have to be put on hold. Unless…

"You look stylish. My girlfriend is a size zero, about five foot five. I wanted to surprise her with a date. She likes anything artsy. Can you plan some outfit choices for her that I can choose from? Then, can you see what's happening tomorrow and get us tickets? Oh, coffee would be great. Get one for yourself too." I rattled off my order and her my card.

Megan's face lit up with excitement. "Of course, Mr.—Eli," she replied eagerly, shuffling her way out the door.

Once she was gone, I buried myself in the mountain of work piled on my desk, losing track of time in the process. Only when the sun began to set did I realize how long I had been sitting there. I decided to call it a night and checked out of my office, finding the workplace eerily quiet except for a few dedicated souls burning the midnight oil. Megan sat at her desk, looking up as I approached.

"Oh, hi Eli!” she called. “You've been busy today. I organized your calendar based on the notes you gave me. I have five dresses for you to choose from and two tickets to a contemporary art exhibition tomorrow."

She gestured to where the dresses were hanging in clear garment bags and I ran my fingers over them admiring their beauty. "Thanks, Meg. I'll take them all. Can you also schedule Saturday night dates for us?" I requested.

She beamed. "Of course!"

With that settled, I grabbed the tickets and the perfect dress for tomorrow night before heading home, grateful for Megan's efficiency and enthusiasm.

"Honey, I'm home!" I called out cheerfully as I stepped through the front door, the sound of the lock clicking behind me. To my disappointment, there was no reply—Jenna was out for the night. I cursed under my breath, my excitement deflating as I remembered her plans.

With a heavy sigh, I trudged into the kitchen and dropped the garment bag, a bouquet of flowers, and the tickets onto the counter. My eyes then landed on a Tupperware bowl on the counter with a note from Jenna attached to it.

Sorry I couldn't go on a date tonight, but I made dinner, so you don't need to order in. Love, Jenna. Xx

I lifted the lid of the container, the smell of tuna wafting out. I wrinkled my nose in distaste. Tuna? It reminded me of cat food. But the gesture was sweet. Maybe I should consider getting a cat, I mused, imagining a furry friend happily gobbling up what I didn’t want. However, the thought quickly dissipated as I remembered the strict no-pet policy outlined in the apartment complex's booklet.

The next morning the bed shifted, a fleeting moment of half-consciousness played tricks on my mind, conjuring up visions of honey brown eyes hovering in the haze of sleep. But then, the sweet scent of flowers invaded my senses, accompanied by Jenna’s melodic voice whispering in my ear .

"Thank you for the dress, it's gorgeous. I can't wait to go out tonight! You really are the best boyfriend," she murmured, her words like a soothing melody in the early morning darkness.

My hand found hers, pulling her close to me and reveling in the warmth of her body beside mine. Her praise brought a fleeting sense of contentment, a momentary reprieve from the gnawing emptiness that lingered in the depths of my heart. Yet, I pushed aside those thoughts, choosing instead to focus on the comfort of her presence.

In that moment, as I held her close, I ignored the hollow ache within me, finding solace in the simple fact that I wasn’t alone. And in that, I found all the reassurance I needed.