Chapter 11

11

ELODIE

" A nd who were you with last night, young lady?"

Mam is in the kitchen when I walk in, a devious and knowing twinkle in her eye. Ignoring the question, I walk over to the stove and lift the lid on the pot, inhaling deeply, the groan passing my lips almost pornographic.

"This smells absolutely amazing," I say. "Do you even know how long it's been since I've had your homemade spaghetti sauce?"

"Oh, it's been quite a while. I think I made it for you two or three visits ago," she replies. "But don't think you're going to get out of answering my question that easily, young lady."

"Mam, are you sure you should be up and around like this?"

"Doc Collier told me to limit my time taking strenuous walks," she replies. "He never said I couldn't bustle around the kitchen. This is about the least strenuous thing I can do."

I laugh. "All right, fair enough. And I'm very much looking forward to dinner tonight."

"Oh, so you're planning on being here?" Mams asks mischievously. "And here I thought you might be out gallivanting around with your new mystery fella."

"Okay, first of all, you and Dr. Collier both need to stop saying the word gallivanting. My God, this isn't the nineteenth century anymore."

"It was such a simpler time back then," she says wistfully, making me laugh again. "So, come on. Out with it. Who is this mysterious gentleman caller?"

"Oh my God, can you stop with the Victorian-era vocabulary?"

She makes me laugh so hard, my cheeks and my sides hurt. I honestly don't remember the last time I laughed this hard back in LA, and I've missed this. Mam always knows how to make me laugh.

"Okay fine. I'll try to use terminology you might be more familiar with," she teases. "So, are you going to tell me who your booty call is?"

She has me laughing so hard, I almost can't breathe.

"That's not any better at all, Mam."

"Then tell me what I want to know, and I'll stop torturing you."

I honestly don't know why I'm so hesitant to tell her about Dr. Collier. Mam isn't going to judge me. She never does. But maybe I'm afraid that telling somebody about it will make things between Ethan and me real. And when things get real, people get hurt. Or maybe I just enjoy having this naughty little secret all to myself. I don't know. All I do know is that I'm not quite ready to share this bit of information.

"Okay, okay. I can see you're not comfortable sharing just yet, so I'll give you a little space," Mam says. "But I do expect to hear about this mystery man at some point."

"I promise I'll give you all the details when I'm ready."

"I'll hold you to that."

My phone chirps with an incoming call. Excited that it might be Ethan, I pull it out of my pocket and my heart instantly drops into my stomach.

"I need to take this, Mam."

"Is everything all right, dear?"

"Yeah. All good," I reply weakly.

I walk briskly out of the kitchen, step out into the backyard, and move well away from the back door before connecting the Facetime call. I should have ignored the call. But I know if I did, he would have kept calling back until I answered. It's probably better just to bite the bullet and get this over with.

"What do you want?" I ask when Ben's face appears on my screen.

"I wanted to talk to you."

"I've got nothing to say to you."

"Baby, don't say that. We had a fight. But we can get past?—"

"Ben, what part of ‘we're done' did you not understand?"

I walk over to the small park bench-type table Mam has set up underneath the tall tree and sit down. The wide, thick boughs cast plenty of shade, which always made summertime dinners here especially nice. Plus, it's far enough from the back door that Mam isn't likely going to overhear me. It shouldn't matter, but I don't want her to hear this.

"Elodie, look, I'm sorry. I was out of line, and I didn't take your feelings into consideration. I was just frustrated because we'd both been looking forward to the show for?—"

"No, Ben. You were looking forward to the show. I didn't really give a damn about it," I snap. "That's the way things have always been. Our relationship has always been about you and what you wanted. You've never thought about what I want."

"That's not true, Elodie."

"It is true and I'm tired of it. I'm not going to deal with it anymore."

On the screen, I can see Ben growing frustrated. He frowns and his expression tightens. He wants to yell at me. He wants to badger and berate me just like he always does. He wants to bully me into submission like he always does. But he's doing his best to keep himself in check. For the first time, I'm not afraid of him. I'm not intimidated. I'm not on the verge of giving in to him. I know I don't have to betray myself by letting Ben have his way like I've done every single day for the last year.

I don't know, maybe it's simply because we're on opposite sides of the country giving me this sense of courage. Maybe it's because I'm not standing in front of him, looking into his eyes that I'm not wilting. It might be the fact that I'm here in Emerson, and it imbues me with a strength that's not natural to me. Honestly, I know I'm different. I don't know what it is, but for some reason, I'm stronger. And more than anything, I know I don't need to appease Ben or sacrifice my wants and needs for his approval.

I honestly don't understand where this is coming from. It pains me to say, but I've always been something of a doormat. I've always had a bad habit of giving in and betraying myself to keep other people happy. And I've got a long history of picking the wrong guys to be with. Guys who think love is telling me what to do and getting upset when I have the temerity to think for myself. Although it kills me to admit, I've spent my life being weak. Standing up for myself has never been part of my DNA. Something's changed in me, though. I don't understand it, don't know what's sparked this change in me, but I like it.

"Come home, Elodie," Ben says. "Let's work this out."

"There's nothing to work out. We're over."

"I love you, sweetheart. We can get past this."

"Ben, I don't know how I can be any clearer with you. We are done. I don't ever want to see you again. Do you understand?"

His lips curl back in a sneer, and his eyes narrow to slits. When I first answered the call, he was as close to conciliatory and repentant as I'd ever seen him. But now that I'm not giving him what he wants, the mask slips, and the true Ben Jennings shines through. He hasn't changed. He's simply changed his tactics.

"We're not done, Elodie. We're not done until I say we're done."

I shake my head. "No. We're done because I say we're done."

"Elodie, get your ass on the next flight home. We are going to work this out and?—"

I disconnect the call and let out a breath of relief. The pressure that had been building in my chest since the moment I saw him calling dissipates, and I can actually breathe. A sense of satisfaction settles down over me as I walk back toward the house. I'm strong.

I'm free.