15. Ellie

Ellie

I had to get out.

After two days of sitting in my apartment, working until late, then sitting in the darkness until I grew tired enough to sleep. I tried to not think of either Grey or Colton and ordered myself to get over the hurt. Colton said what he did for the express purpose of hurting me.

Well, he succeeded.

Now I realized I let him have power over me by letting the hurt carry on. No longer. I took my power back by reminding myself that he can only hurt me if I let him.

Sick of my own walls, I donned my coat, a wool scarf, and walked out of my apartment. There was a café with free Wi-Fi only a few blocks down from my building. As the storm a few days ago had more snarl than bite, the sidewalks were mostly clear. What remained reflected back the sunlight and hurt my eyes.

At that time of day, late morning, the café had only a few patrons. The warmth and the scent of coffee greeted me as I stepped in, wiping my boots on the mat inside the door. The barista took my order of a plain coffee and a cherry Danish with a smile. As I waited for my second breakfast, I glanced around the place.

Unwittingly, I met the gaze of a middle-aged, good looking guy with gray in his hair, bright blue eyes, and a short-cropped goatee. He offered a quick dip of his chin and a small smile.

I looked away.

Seated at a table where I could watch traffic, I sipped my hot coffee. Not quite hungry, I nibbled on the Danish and wondered why I'd ordered it in the first place. Still, the carbs might help my desolate mood. Or give me a mental boost for my afternoon's work.

"May I join you?" someone asked.

I glanced up to find the cute dude standing near my table. "I'm not looking to get picked up."

He smiled, and sat opposite me, blocking my view of the street. "I'm not looking to pick you up. Name's Frank."

I looked at his outstretched hand, thinking of telling him to fuck off. But there was something in his kind gaze, his sweet smile, that lifted my hand without my permission and took it. "Ellie."

"Nice to meet you, Ellie. How are you this fine morning?"

"Okay."

He tsked. "I don't think so. If you don't mind me saying, you appear mighty down. That's why I came over."

"Do you always approach depressed strangers?"

"Nope. You're a special case, Ellie. I don't know why. I felt the sudden urge to help."

I shrugged. "I don't think you can."

"I'm a good listener."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay, then you listen, and I'll talk." Frank grinned. "I've had my share of heartbreaks. Love bites, doesn't it? One day, you're on top of the world, happy with that special someone, and then― bam! Done and gone. You're alone, crying on your friend's shoulder."

"I don't have any friends."

Frank's brows rose. "C'mon. A beautiful gal like you without friends? How can that be?"

"Friends suck. They're almost as bad as boyfriends."

"Talk to me, Ellie. What happened?"

I needed to talk. I guessed a stranger might be as good as anyone to unload to. Frank seemed genuinely kind, interested, compassionate. While it felt strange to share my story with him, there was something about him that made me feel comfortable, even only knowing him for five minutes.

I sipped my coffee and began. "You're right. Love bites. My boyfriend of nearly two years cheated on me with my friend. We were camping when it finally came out, I left in the middle of the night. Started walking."

"In this cold? You could have died."

"I know. I got picked up by my boyfriend's dad. We, um, got together."

Frank whistled, smiling. "You go, girl."

I snorted. "He's old enough to be my father. But I may be falling in love with him. Is that a bad thing?"

"Don't be silly. Take real love where you can get it. So, what happened to him?"

I shrugged, drinking my coffee, and ignoring my Danish. "He landed in the hospital after getting hurt playing against Toronto."

"Playing against Toronto?" Frank's eyes narrowed. "Just who is this dude?"

"Grey Aldine. He plays for the Vermont Vipers."

All but choking, Frank laughed, his eyes dancing. "Now that is one hunk of man. I'd do him in a heartbeat."

I blinked.

Frank laughed again. "I'm gay, sweetie."

His humor and openness brought a smile to my face.

"You're one lucky girl. So what happened? Because if you don't grab him, I'll certainly try."

"Well, I went to see him, but we sort of agreed to part ways. Our age difference, you know. Then my ex showed up." I shut my teeth, looking at my coffee. "He said some things that really hurt. I'm not over him, not all the way. I walked out, away from them both. Now I'm depressed and angry and hurt and have no idea what I should do."

"First things first," Frank said, "are you going to eat that?"

"No." I pushed my Danish toward him.

He munched and spoke with his mouth full. "Okay, girl, first you must look out for yourself. You are most important. Get yourself together, do what you need to do. Don't hold these negative emotions inside. Let them out. Scream, exercise, talk to someone."

"I don't have anyone to talk to."

"You do now." He took another bite, crumbs coating his lips. "Negativity drags you down. Do things that make you happy. Stay in touch with your inner self. Don't be afraid to look at yourself in the mirror."

"How do you know all this?"

He smiled. "You see this gray hair? It came from living. In living, you learn, you gain insights. You're young, Ellie, far too young to become a cynical, jaded woman. And I can see that you're too sweet and kind to not find a good dude to love you."

I looked away. "You don't know me. I might be a terrible, awful human being who sets kittens on fire."

"Please." Frank snorted. "I'm a better judge of character than that."

"Maybe I'm a chameleon, like Ted Bundy."

"Nah. He had dead eyes. Yours are bright, filled with life."

Frank's kindness and humor took its toll on me. I couldn't help it.

I smiled, then chuckled. "They do, huh?"

"Yes, they do. Take my advice: Go see your hunky hockey man. Follow the trail that leads you to happiness."

"Maybe."

I drained my coffee. "Your turn. Tell me about you."

Frank and I drank two more cups of coffee, talking as easily as though we'd known one another for years. Perhaps his being gay helped with that. One: I had no worry he had nefarious purposes behind approaching me. Two: I suspected the stories of gay men being more sensitive were true.

"I've been alone for about a year now," he told me. "My boyfriend fell in love with someone else, too. I quit trying to find anyone else after that. At the moment, I'm happy living alone, doing as I please."

"What do you do for work?"

"Oh, I'm retired. I'd built up quite the portfolio of investments, now I live off the interest. I don't travel much. I do a bit of skiing, fishing in the summer, help out at the soup kitchens. I volunteer at nursing homes, read to hospitalized kids."

"No wonder you recognized my depression," I remarked.

"It was really easy to see."

"Your boyfriend must be an idiot to have let you go," I said.

"Same as yours." Frank grinned. "Their loss, right?"

"Exactly."

Taking a pen from his jacket, Frank wrote on a napkin. "This is my number. Call me anytime you need to talk. Okay?"

I accepted the napkin with reluctance. "I don't want to be a pain."

"You're not. I should run. Now, stand up and give me a hug."

Hugging Frank was like the last straw. I melted, my tears streaming down my cheeks. Finding such kindness after floating on a sea of grief and hurt dropped my defenses in an instant. His arms felt as strong and comforting as Grey's, and that made my tears fall faster.

Frank tilted my chin up to meet his gaze. "Call me, Ellie. Anytime."

"I will. Thank you."

***

My newfound friendship with Frank was what helped me get through the next painful and difficult weeks. We talked on the phone. We met at the café. We confided in one another. When the weather cleared enough, we met in parks and walked, holding hands, and we mostly talked. Other times, we held hands, and said nothing at all.

"You're like the big brother I never had," I told him once.

"You're like my baby sister." Frank chuckled. "I do have one. She's married with kids and lives in Maine."

"Why don't you find another guy to love?" I asked him during another walk in the park.

"I'm in no hurry," Frank replied. "I need to find myself, I guess. Just as I suggested you do."

"Seems like you have yourself together."

"Not enough to have a relationship."

Over those weeks, I healed to some extent. Any thoughts of Colton brought anger, hate, grief. Those emotions weren't there because I was over him. Frank helped me to realize they were there because I wasn't over him. Only when I could think of Colton with indifference could I say I had moved on.

Grey was yet another matter.

Thoughts of him brought a longing, a yearning to see him again, to just talk to him the way I talked with Frank. To cuddle against his strong chest, to listen to his breathing as he slept. To make sweet, sweet love to him, and hear his voice in the darkness.

"Do you talk to him?" Frank asked me after a month of our friendship.

"A couple of texts," I replied. "Just to say hi, how are you."

"You both still believe the age difference matters?"

"He could lose his career, Frank. Dating, or sleeping with, a twenty-two-year-old could cause a scandal that might end him. I don't want that. I can't be responsible."

"I think society today can handle it," Frank said. "There are worse things Grey can do to irritate people. Falling in love with a young woman isn't one of them."

"His son's ex?" I inquired dryly. "That's a stretch."

"Only if the fans know you're the son's ex." Frank eyed me sidelong.

"Too many of his teammates already do."

***

Feeling happy for the first time in quite a while, I hummed as I worked. My clients were pleased with me, and their payments came in as regularly as, well, my periods were. I gained another account, referred to me by a previous client, and had more work than I knew what to do with. My bank account grew slowly, and I paid my rent on time.

Need to start paying Grey back.

When I texted him for his address so I might start sending him monthly checks, he offered it.

Then he added I didn't have to start yet. Take your time. It's good.

Thinking fond thoughts of him, I headed for my kitchen to refresh my coffee cup. As I poured, I wondered how he was doing, if he had healed from that fight during the Toronto game. The news spoke highly of him, the Vipers being in the upcoming playoffs, speculation as to whether he'd soon retire.

If he retires, maybe we can see one another again, I thought.

My cup in hand, I started toward my computer with the plan to resume work. I passed the calendar I hung on the wall and gave it a cursory glance. After passing it, I halted, shock and dread sweeping through my veins.

I went back, my mouth suddenly so dry my coffee failed to wet it.

I'd marked my periods over the next several months. The red checkmarks informed me of when my flow would start. I'd always been regular.

Always.

"Oh, God."

I paged back through the calendar, realization dawning. "Oh, God."

In my grief and rage, I hadn't noticed my period hadn't come for the last two months.