Chapter Thirty-Three

Love

I had spent all night crying about it. Panicking. I laid naked in the bedroom of my tiny apartment in Birmingham, stripped bare except for tears and socks.

That night I had gone on a date with a guy from the ballet company, Erik. I'd been working for about two months, and we had been together for one. We'd been paired together for Nutcracker as the Columbine and Harlequin, we spent a lot of time together. However, that night, after I came alone home from dinner, I found myself boarding a train of thought from which I couldn't jump off.

I didn't know where it came from. It could have started when Erik tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. It picked up momentum when he told me he played baseball for a bit growing up. I felt whiplash when he spoke about how he wanted a family one day.

He wasn't asking me. We'd just started dating, but I knew the implied purpose of having dinner with him, kissing him, letting him walk me to my door, feeling his hands on my toes when I asked him to stretch my feet in rehearsal. Either we dated until it further solidified, or we broke up and I chose someone new. Then, that cycle would continue. I knew, no matter what, with every touch and kiss I'd imagine someone different.

I'd think of Tucker. Telling me I'm perfect. That he loves me. He'd marry me when we're thirty.

That's when I got panicky and took off my clothes, something I hadn't done in years. I'd gotten good at my emotion words, but these emotions spilled from compartments I didn't know existed. When I opened them, everything fell out in a waterfall of tears and heartache, stopping only when I realized I didn't flounder at the bottom of this well alone.

I loved Elijah Tucker. I would love him for the rest of my life.

I loved him when he wrapped me up on the airplane when we were fifteen and when he held my hand on our seventeenth birthday. I loved knowing he thought I was beautiful. I wanted to spend every day together like we did on that cruise, learning every spec of information about the other. I loved the way he always knew when I needed him. I loved that he spent the night in a car just to be near me. I wanted him to make love to me the way he did that first time, making the experience about me, coaxing bliss and peace from my body. I wanted a proposal that might belong to someone else one day.

I had to tell him.

My hands shook when I called him. It was a Friday night. He could have been too busy to answer.

"Ella?" he answered right away. We never called each other on the phone. We only ever sent texts when they were in a group message. "Ella, are you okay?"

I wish I had stopped crying before I called. He would think something was wrong.

"Hey," I said.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I sighed.

"Why are you calling me?" he asked.

I loved the sound of his voice. I'd never noticed it before. How could someone have such a perfect voice? It bore through my skin.

I started, "Tucker, can I tell you something?"

"You can tell me anything. Wait - hang on." It sounded like he was at a bar. A few seconds later, he said, "Okay, I'm here. What's up?"

I imagined him standing outside on a brick-paved sidewalk, under the moonlight and dripping Spanish moss. The sound of late summer crickets. Half-drink girls wobbling on heels.

I said, "I should probably tell you this in person, but I just can't wait any longer."

"Are you hurt? Is somebody sick?"

"No. Elijah, I have to tell you…" I clutched his Pine Place baseball sweatshirt. He didn't have to feel the same way. I just needed to say it. "That I love you."

Silence. Then: "What?"

"I'm in love with you."

"Is this a joke?" he snapped.

"No."

"Am I being pranked?"

"No."

"Are you drunk?"

"No."

He inhaled. "You're saying…that you love me?"

"Yes." I sniffled, wishing I could see him in the bits of silence between words.

"Why?" he demanded. "Why me?"

I rested my head against the wall. My leg stretched out and hit a shoe. "Because no one else is you." I collected my thoughts.

I said, "You're the best friend I've ever had. You care about me more than anyone in the world. I dream about you touching me and kissing me. I want to hear your voice every day. I want you to hold me and I want to hold you back. Every time I'm with anyone else, I just wish they were you. I never wish you were anyone else. I'll always feel lucky that you've cared about me for my whole life. I want to be there for you like you've always been there for me. I want to love you like you've made me feel loved."

He listens, quietly. Low and heavy, he begs, "Are you sure?"

"I didn't know it before. I didn't recognize it. But I know now. I love you so much. I'll always love you."

"Fuck, Ella." I hear him sniffle. His voice is clogged. "God, I love you. You know I love you."

"For real?"

"It's always been real. It's never been a game to me. I'm so fucking in love with you that I thought I would spend the rest of my life miserable, wanting you."

I couldn't fight the giddy smile that broadened my face. I whimpered, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I tried, Ell. I really tried. I wanted you to see, but I didn't want to do the wrong thing and lose you completely. Johnny kept saying I would mess everything up if I made a move on you. I didn't think you could ever love me like I love you."

"I do," I murmured. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

The ache in my heart didn't lessen. It got deeper. "I want to see you."

"I need to see you."

"I can come to Savannah."

"I'll be in Pine Place tomorrow -"

"Perfect," I said. "I can go home. I'll meet you at my house."

Tucker groaned. "Fuck, Ella…is this really happening?"

I covered my tears in his sweatshirt. "Yeah. I love you."

"I love you."

"I can't stop saying it," I giggled.

"Don't ever fucking stop."

"I love you, Eli."

He laughed. "Tell me something else. Anything. Just keep talking."