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I figured my life would look more like my father’s. Hearing him talk of his travels, reading the articles he’d written before he met my mother; they molded me into a curious young woman who itched to see the world.
He fed me what I needed to flourish; the desire to create a reality for myself.
Until a drunk driver stole the sun from me.
I’m stacking piles of dusty folders on top of one another, brushing tendrils that escaped my bun from my face with the back of my hand.
My white button-down is rolled up at the elbows and my denim shorts feel suffocating.
I should’ve shown up naked. I imagine that would’ve gone over well.
My mind flashes to the closest I’d been to naked in this place.
I still remember each of his breaths as they forced their way out against the back of my neck.
The feel of a thick cock impaling?—
Don’t go there, Eloise. He’s long gone.
I feel like I’m some sort of parallel universe Cinderella, like I lost my glass slipper and my carriage turned into a pumpkin. And now I’m left barefoot and stepping in sticky shit.
I grimace as I wiggle my toes against what’s surely old tea I’d spilled one time or another and never got to cleaning.
I can just hear Sophie, muttering over my incompetence.
I never thought I’d be the one to run this place. Then again, I never thought my parents would be killed so abruptly, just as Sophie and I were entering the domain of womanhood. Being saddled with a child and a business hadn’t suited Sophie, so she left.
And I had to put away childish dreams of traveling to keep what our parents left for us alive.
Taking out a loan against the store to pay for the upkeep of the house wasn’t the best idea, it turned out. I hadn’t had the business knowledge then that I do now to know that this market is entirely too unreliable. And after sinking all of the money our parents left behind into revamping, it’s heartbreaking to see it on the brink of loss.
As a child, I dreamed of travel and love and creating my own life.
As an adult, I put those dreams aside to keep the bigger picture alive.
The bell over the door jingles, and I hear Kitty’s whimsical greeting. Dust has created a second skin over the sweat on my legs. But this back room is too cluttered to make any sense of to anyone other than me, on the rare occasion I’m not here.
Three black garbage bags crowd the office door, and I nearly fall out of the room, trying to help whomever it is that just walked in.
Strong hands have a hold of my elbows, and for a second, I’m both confused and grateful.
And then I’m breathless as I jerk up and my eyes meet familiar ones.
Ezra.
“You’re still here,” I whisper, sure that I look as shocked as I feel. And then I remember I’ve just been wrestling cobwebs and dusty files, and I quickly straighten and adjust the knot at the end of my shirt, just above my belly button. I swipe at the hair that’s fallen loose from my bun, and I take a deep breath. “Sorry. Hi. Hey.” I’m still adjusting myself as he stands there, warm green eyes watching me flail in front of him.
“I’d wondered if I dreamed you. But here you are, as mesmerizing as you were before and right where I left you.”
He’s wearing a navy suit, and I wonder how he isn’t melting in front of me. His white dress shirt is smooth and pristine and not a hair on his head is out of place.
He is sex wrapped in what looks like expensive and tailor-fitted fabric.
“I haven’t been here the entire time,” I offer. The idea of me sitting around, pining for him, isn’t one I want bouncing around in his head.
“And yet, here you are. Almost as if you were waiting for me.”
I watch his lips as they move, and I’m nearly hypnotized. But my urge to be seen as the force that I am breaks the spell.
