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“You deserve every single bit of it,” I say, looking directly at Ellise. “Both of you.”
Ellise doesn’t say anything out loud. She doesn’t need to.
She holds my stare with that glossy intensity she’s been carrying around for weeks. I recognise it because I have been carrying the same unspoken weight, and I’m rapidly running out of reasons to keep it hidden.
Yes, I think, looking at her. I know. Me too, Bow-Peep.
The drive back to Manhattan is wrapped in the kind of silence I’ve come to understand completely differently over the last few months.
There used to be one kind of quiet between me and Ellise. The armed kind. It was volatile and defensive, the silence of someone trying their absolute best not to react to my presence and the stubborn urge to force a reaction out of her to get her attention.
This is not that silence.
This is the rare kind that exists between two people who have stopped fighting, who have grown comfortable enough in each other’s presence to simply sit in silence.
As I concentrate on the rain-slicked highway, her fingers trace light patterns over the denim covering my knee.
Without breaking my gaze on the road, I turn my hand palm-up. Her fingers instantly lace through mine.
“What are you thinking about, Bow-Peep?” I ask softly, after miles of quiet. “You’ve been dead silent for ages.”
She looks out of the passenger window, taking a breath as if carefully weighing her words.
“Nothing specific, really,” she begins. “I’m just… I’m so happy, Julian. Tonight was everything to me. Being in that space and being there with you. Thank you for organising everything.”
“It was a great night,” I agree, squeezing her hand. “I loved seeing you come alive in the shop. You looked completely in your element.”
She falls quiet again for a moment.
“I didn’t realise until tonight how much of myself I had left behind in Mystic. How much I have missed it.” She pauses. “And I realised something else, too.”
I glance sideways at her. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“I don’t want this thing between us to end when the Spring Showcase is over,” she admits softly, her blue eyes staring straight ahead. “I’m done pretending this is just about a duet or a temporary arrangement. I want more out of this, Julian.”
My heart slams heavily against my ribs, but I stay silent, hanging onto every single word she says.
“I’m not even sure when it changed for me,” she continues, a small huff escaping her. “Maybe it was in those endless practice sessions, when I started seeing the real you. My mom clearly adores you, too.”
The air leaves my lungs in a staggering exhale.
Tell her.
Bloody tell her how you feel.
“Ellise,” I whisper, trying to stay focused on the road. “You have no idea how hard this is for me to say out loud. I’ve never done anything like this before, and it scares the shit out of me.” I pull her hand up towards my lips and kiss the inside of her wrist. “I’ve spent my entire life building walls, keeping everyone at distance, making sure nobody ever got close enough to see the mess inside.”
“Julian—”
“No, let me say it,” I continue. “I don’t know how to do the whole emotional confession thing properly, but I know that being around you, being with you is the only time since my mum passed that I’ve felt entirely sane. You’re the first thing I think about in the morning, and you’re the only thing I want at night… I’m just a little obsessed with you, Bow-Peep.”
Ellise lets out a faint laugh, leaning across to put her forehead on my shoulder. “I know. I feel it every time you look at me. You don’t ever have to hide anything from me, Julian. I'm here. And for the record? I’m completely obsessed with you, too,” she whispers.
38
Julian
Carmela is still awake. I know it before we have even reached the front door. The light in the kitchen is on, casting a warm light onto the street, and I know she will have waited up to see how the evening turned out. She wouldn’t have been able to help herself.
