He chased after her, placing his hand flat against the door to keep her from opening it. “Stay, Ella. Please, don’t go.” Lowering his voice again, he said, “Please.”
Her shoulders slumped and her forehead landed against the door.
Gavin put his arms around her from behind. “Come here.”
She turned into his embrace, and he gathered her in close, the top of her head fitting perfectly beneath his chin. And just that simply, everything felt better than it had in years.
“If you’re screwing with me, Guthrie, I’ll kill you with my own hands, and I’m more than capable of that after growing up with seven brothers.”
The low rumble of laughter caught him off guard. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had cause to laugh. “Duly noted.” Tightening his hold on her, which seemed to be in direct relation to the fragile hold he had on his sanity, Gavin ran his lips over her smooth dark hair, which always had a shine to it. That was something he found endlessly fascinating. “I’m not screwing with you, Ella.”
“Then what is this?” she asked tentatively. He could hardly blame her for that. He’d given her more than enough reason to be tentative where he was concerned.
“This is me admitting that I need you, that I’m tired of fighting whatever this is that’s been happening between us for years now, that—”
She drew back to look up at him. “Gavin?”
“What?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
CHAPTER 3
Grief is in two parts. The first is loss.
The second is the remaking of life.
—Anne Roiphe
Gavin did exactly as he was told, capturing her mouth in a deep passionate kiss that had her clinging to him, trying to get closer, until he abruptly pulled away. “What about the guy you’re seeing?”
Ella had to think about that for a second, and then she began to laugh. “The guys I’m seeing are named Ben and Jerry.”
“There’re two of them?”
“How much did you drink tonight? Hello? Ben and Jerry? Ringing any bells?”
“Ice cream,” he said on a deep sigh of relief.
“Thank God. I thought you’d finally managed to pickle your brain with all the beer you’ve been drinking.”
“You said you were on a date . . .”
“With my sofa and a pint of Cherry Garcia. It’s become somewhat of a Saturday night routine lately.”
“I thought you were seeing someone else.”
“Is that why everything suddenly changed for you?” she asked, trying to break free of his hold.
“No. God, no. I was jealous as hell, but this is about you and me and no one else.”
“You were jealous? Really?”
“Insanely.”
They stared at each other for a long, charged moment.
“Just because I’ve pushed you away doesn’t mean I haven’t wanted to pull you closer, El.”
“If you’re messing with me, I swear . . .”
“I’m not messing with you. I’m exhausted, Ella.” He took her by the hand and led her to the sofa, where he sat next to her, turning to face her. “I’m . . . I can’t do this anymore.”
“Do what?” she asked hesitantly. Part of her didn’t want to know what it was he couldn’t do anymore. It couldn’t be her. He hadn’t exactly . . . done . . . her. Stop it, Ella. Let the man talk.
Raising his free hand to his head, he ran his fingers through his hair repeatedly while he seemed to be looking for the words he needed. “This,” he finally said after a long period of silence. “Half a life spent living mostly in the past, only sort of in the present, devoid of hope and drowning in grief. I can’t bear it another minute. None of it is going to bring Caleb back.”
Blinking back tears, Ella reached for him.
He leaned toward her, dropped his head and, for the first time, allowed her to shoulder some of his burden.
Ella ran her fingers through his hair, hoping to offer whatever comfort she could. Selfishly, she’d wanted to run her fingers through that hair for years and wasn’t about to miss the opportunity. If only she could think of something she could say that would help him. But the only words that came to mind were self-serving. And then it occurred to her . . . Maybe by serving herself, she could serve him, too. “You’re not alone, Gavin. You don’t have to do this alone.”
“I worry about taking you down with me.”
“I’m a lot stronger than you think.”
“I know that. I’ve always known that.”
“So what now?”
“I guess we take it a day at a time and see what happens.”
“I don’t know if I can do that.” As the words left her mouth, Ella wanted to take them back. Here he was offering what she’d always wanted, and she was about to tell him it wasn’t enough? Was she insane?
“What do you mean?”
She took a deep breath, determined to fight for what she really wanted from him. “I can’t go day by day and see what happens. I can’t take that kind of risk. Not with you.”
“I don’t have much more than that to offer.”
“Yes, you do, Gavin! You have so much more inside you, and it’s trying to get out. You just said half a life isn’t working anymore. So either you go all in or you don’t. But I’m not willing to settle for half of you—one foot in, one foot out. That doesn’t work for me.”
With his elbows on his knees, he stared off at a point over her shoulder, seeming to think about what she’d said.
“The last time,” she said tentatively, “after you were in the fight and I came here to check on you . . .”
“What about it?”
“It was weeks before I could take a deep breath that didn’t hurt.”
“Ella . . .”
“I didn’t tell you that to make you feel bad. I told you so you’d understand why I can’t do this halfway. I just can’t take that chance.”
“I’m afraid I’ll let you down in some way.”
“You’re a man,” she said teasingly. “Of course you will.”
He offered a small smile. “You know what I mean.”
“Maybe this isn’t the right time.” A ripple of pain attacked her entire body as she said those words, but she couldn’t afford to be stupid or too hopeful where he was concerned. Despite the steps forward they’d taken earlier, he was still waffling.
“May I say something that might be extremely unfair in light of the mixed signals I’ve sent you for far too long?” he asked.
“Um, okay. I guess.” While part of her wanted to put her hands over her ears so she couldn’t hear something that couldn’t be unheard, she was far too curious to do that.
“I told you that since Homer died and Hannah got remarried, I’ve been spiraling back in time to when Caleb first died. I’ve felt almost as bad as I did then, except for the rare occasions when you’re close by. That’s the only time the spinning stops.”
Ella had no idea how to reply to that. It was, perhaps, the most important thing he’d ever said to her. She swallowed hard as she acknowledged what it had taken him to admit such a thing to her.
“I need you, Ella. I’m no longer capable of pushing you away, not when I feel so much better when you’re here. I feel like a selfish bastard for dragging you into my nightmare, but I can’t fight it anymore.”
Maybe she was insane or at least downright crazy, but there was no way she could walk away from him after hearing him say those words in that pleading tone.