Time-Lapse

by Heller, JB

  I slide my hands along her forearms until I’m entwining my fingers with hers. “What do you say, El? Will you give me a chance to win you back?” My heart is in my throat, waiting for her answer.

  She sniffles. “I’m your past, Hux, and you’ve got an amazing future ahead of you.” She shakes her head slightly, and her hair tumbles over one of her delicate shoulders, then she pulls her hands away from mine. “You need to move forward, and so do I. I can’t keep living in the past.”

  Then, she stands up from the table, pulls in a deep breath, and says, “I’m sorry, but you broke me once. I can’t let you do it again. I have to protect myself.” Then, she walks away, leaving me shattered and alone.

  Always fucking alone.

  I’m walking away from him, and it should feel liberating. Shouldn’t it? I’ve just closed the door on a past that has haunted me for the last five years. I should feel validated—relieved, even—but I don’t.

  Each step I take that leads me farther away from him hurts more than the last. Why does it hurt so bad? I don’t understand. I’m doing the right thing, aren’t I? I’m doing what I should have done all those years ago, when he warned me what would happen. I’m putting the distance between us now that I didn’t then.

  When I reach the threshold of the restaurant, I turn back to see him, and he’s sitting hunched over the table with his hands fisted in his messy hair. My heart aches. He just opened up to me, and I walked away from him.

  I never thought the day would come when I would see him and he would want me back. In fact, I never thought I’d see him ever again. Yet, here I am, and I’m the one walking away.

  The tears I fought so hard to contain in front of him spill over, and I make my way to the elevator bank with my head hanging low. I let my hair fall around my face, hiding my tattered emotions from onlookers.

  When I reach my office, the door is slightly ajar. I push it open and see Grandfather standing by the window. I quickly wipe my tear-stained cheeks before he sees, but he catches my reflection in the tinted glass and turns to face me as I’m scrubbing my face.

  “Want to talk about it, sweetheart? I’ve got years of experience to call on for advice.”

  I step in fully and close the door behind me. I try to smile, but I can’t muster one up—not even a fake one. I sigh. “Not today, Grandfather. This one’s all kinds of complicated. Is there something you needed from me?”

  He takes a seat on my couch before looking out the window. “Come sit with me,” he instructs, and I do. “I want you to work with this Hadley fellow. You know what I like, and while I’m yet to see anything of his that I don’t like … well, I just want you to keep an eye on it for me. Okay?”

  Flopping back on the couch, I’m too emotionally spent to even try and act like this doesn’t bother me. “Is that completely necessary? You can’t keep tabs on him yourself?”

  He raises a brow. “You’re normally more than happy to take on extra responsibilities. What is it about this that has you balking?” he asks with narrowed eyes.

  “I don’t like him,” I say flatly.

  Grandfather scoffs. “Since when has that been a problem for you? I’m sure you’ll put him in his place if he steps out of line. You’re the best ball-buster I’ve got,” he says with a wink.

  While I would normally take that as a compliment, I really don’t want to think about Hux, or his balls, in any capacity. I groan. “I don’t think he’ll step out of line, I just don’t enjoy his company. I’d rather not have to work closely with him if I can help it.”

  Right when I think he’s about to let me off the hook, he says, “So that wasn’t the two of you I saw walking across the lobby last night, soaked to the bone? And that wasn’t him having breakfast with you this morning in the restaurant?” he asks, raising a speculative brow.

  My chest deflates. Damn it. “Do you have to notice everything?” I grumble.

  And he smiles. “This is my hotel, sweetheart, and you are my granddaughter. I take a special interest in both of those things. Now, you can either tell me what is going on, or you can take the task I’m giving you.”

  Crossing my arms, I mumble, “I’ll keep an eye on him, okay?”

  Grandfather pats my thigh. “Good girl. I’ll be going out of town for a few days. I have a mess to clean up in one of the other branches.” He stands and bends at the waist before placing a kiss on my forehead. “This will be a good thing,” he murmurs then strides out of my office, nodding to himself, and closes the door behind him.

  Well, there goes my plan to stay away from Hux.

  And for some strange reason, my lips quirk at the thought.

  Okay, maybe the reason isn’t so strange. I don’t want to stay away from him. I know that. I’ve never wanted to. Not back then. And not now. But I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it if it ends the same way this time.

  He asked me to give him a chance, and I said no.

  He told me he wanted to make it up to me, and I walked away.

  I don’t know what to do. My head and my heart are at war. One wants me to wrap my arms around him and never let him go, but the other wants me to run away and protect myself from being hurt again.

  I’ve never felt so conflicted. I didn’t even have to think about it when we were younger. I just dove in headfirst with no reservations. I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything. He made me happy. He showed me how to be myself—for that, I’ll forever be grateful. But the hurt and the pain that followed his departure still threaten to cancel out the good that having him in my life did in the first place.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The emptiness that I’ve lived with since I walked away from Eliza settles back into my soul in her absence.

  For a moment, I had a glimmer of hope. Hope that she would forgive me, or at least let me try to make amends. I should never have left her. I know that now. But it’s too little, too late. Hindsight is a bitch.

  I’m leaving the restaurant when Victor calls my name. I turn around to see him walking toward me from the elevator bay. “I just wanted to talk to you before I leave, son,” he says when he reaches me.

  I raise a brow. “You’re going somewhere?”

  He heaves a dramatic sigh. “I’m flying out this afternoon. I have a situation in one of the other hotels to take care of. But while I’m away, I’d like you to work with my granddaughter. I believe you know her, Eliza.”

  My throat goes dry. No fucking way. I stand there blinking at Victor, speechless. Does he know about our past? I’m not sure what to say, so I don’t say anything.

  When it starts getting awkward, Victor breaks the silence. “Hmm, going by both your reactions, I’d say you’re going to have an interesting few days. And I look forward to hearing all about it when I return,” he says with a huge smile.

  I open and close my mouth. Did he just tell me that this is a set-up? But before I can ask him what he’s playing at, he walks away, chuckling. Then, he calls over his shoulder, “Good luck, son. You’re going to need it.”

  I think about what Victor said the whole elevator ride up to my floor. I’m still thinking about it when I sit in front of my laptop and pull up my files of El. Maybe being forced to work with her is my way in, my opportunity to prove myself to her.

  An hour later, I’ve picked out just shy of a hundred images that I think will complement the hotel and loaded them onto a USB stick to show El. I’m about to head out of my suite when I realize I’m not sure where her office is. So, I call down to the front desk. “Hey, this is Hadley. I’m supposed to be working with Miss Quinn on something, but I’m not sure where her office is located. Can you help me out?”

  “Of course. Miss Quinn’s office is on the third floor, sir. Go right when you exit the elevator, and her name is on the door,” the receptionist chirps.

  “Thanks,” I say and hang up.

  Sliding the USB into my pocket, I go in search of Eliza’s office.

  I find it easily enough. But when I
knock, there’s no answer, so I test the handle, and it opens. Poking my head in, I notice the office is empty. Shit. I don’t have her cell number, so I either wait here for her to return—and who knows when that will be—or I go convince someone to give me her number.

  Option two it is.

  When I step up to the reception desk, I smile at the chick sitting behind it. “Hi, I just called down, looking for Miss Quinn’s office.”

  She smiles and nods. “Yes, did you find it alright, Mr. Hadley?” Her lashes flutter when she says my name, and I fight back my cringe.

  Smiling widely, I tell her, “Sure did. You gave great directions.” She blushes at my compliment, and I continue, “Thing is, she’s not in her office. Think you could find her number for me?”

  She pouts then shakes her head. “Sorry, I can’t. Company policy. I could give you her office line, but you already checked there, so there’s no point. If you gave me your number, I could call you if I see her.”

  “Uh, no, that’s okay. I’ll, uh … have a look around for her myself. But thanks,” I say and speed-walk away from her. I honestly don’t even think it’s me she’s into but the name Hadley. When I’m just me, just a guy walking around with his camera, I’m virtually invisible again.

  The gallery is on the ground floor, so I head there first. The sign displaying my name is still at the entrance, and I’m surprised to find about twenty people milling around inside. Checking my watch, I notice it’s close to eleven, but it’s a Monday morning, so I wasn’t expecting to find anyone in here.

  I make my way around the room, silently observing the patrons as they take in each image. I hear a little girl of about five or six say to her mother, “Mommy, I want to take pretty pictures like this when I grow up,” and her comment brings a smile to my face.

  Kids often see the beauty in the simple things that adults usually overlook. And this little girl has an eye for detail. I can tell because she’s standing on a bench seat so she can get level with the picture, and she’s really looking at it, her little eyes roaming over every inch of the photo like it’s a masterpiece.

  Continuing around the outer edge, I spot her. El’s sitting on a timber bench in front of The One, The Only. She’s looking up at it, and I wish I couldn’t read her so well. My chest tightens as I watch her, the different emotions that slowly pour out of her as she gazes at the very first picture I ever took of her.

  I see it all: her pain, her regret, her anguish, her confusion. And I can’t keep my distance any longer.

  Striding over to her, I take the spot next to her and look at the picture with her. “That’s the first picture I ever took of you,” I murmur.

  Without looking at me, she responds, “I know.”

  “It’s always been my favorite,” I tell her. “It’s our story, you know? You, surrounded by light, energy, openness, and love. And me on the outside, looking in, wishing I was worthy of the light that surrounds you. But never quite reaching my goal.”

  From the corner of my eye, I catch her swiping away a stray tear. So, I turn to face her. “I always knew I was never good enough. It weighed on me constantly. You were this perfect, unattainable angel, and I was—am—nothing more than a destructive force that eviscerates everything in my path.”

  Her eyes meet mine, and she shakes her head gently as a sad smile lifts her lips. “No, Hux, you didn’t hurt me until you left me. This picture?” She gestures to it. “It is our story, but not the way you described it. It’s me, alone, until you stepped into my life and filled it with light like I’d never seen before. I had a good life before you. I did. But you accepted all of me, quirks and all. No one outside my family had ever done that for me before.”

  She closes her eyes and tilts her head down, releasing a deep breath. “Your fear is what makes you destructive.” Reaching over, she takes my hand. “You are not your fear. You never were. But you let it rule you then, and you still do. Nothing will change until you learn to let it go.”

  Her words penetrate me heart and soul, but I can’t make sense of them. “It’s not fear, El. It’s fact. You know what I did to my parents. Look at what I did to you. It’s just what I do, what I am.”

  Shaking her head again, she pulls her hand away from mine, and I miss the contact immediately. “So, when you asked me this morning to give you a chance to win me back, you did that knowing you’d hurt me again?”

  I scratch my neck. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

  She tilts her head. “So what did you mean? Because one minute you’re asking me to give you a chance, and the next you’re telling me you’re a destructive force that is only capable of hurting people. If that’s true, why would I give you another chance to hurt me? Why would I put myself in that position again willingly?”

  Her words are like a bucket of cold water. She’s right. What was I thinking? I shift until I’m leaning my elbows on my knees and gripping my skull in my hands. Fuck! I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to get everything straight in my head.

  I have no idea how much time has passed when I feel her hand on my shoulder. The warmth of her touch seeps into my damaged heart, and I breathe a sigh of contentment. That one little point of contact has such a powerful impact on me. How can I walk away from it again? I’m not even sure how I fucking did it the first time.

  When Hux opens his eyes, they’re tortured. He’s so conflicted about who he is, and he always has been. I never—not for even a moment—thought him unworthy of my love. But he always did. I know his father did a number on him, and that’s where it all stems from, but he needs to move past it if he’s going to have any kind of happiness in his life. Be it with me or someone else.

  And the thought of someone else making him happy? It’s a stab to my fragile heart. I need to let go of my indecision. I can’t keep running hot then cold with him. For both our sakes, I need to decide. Do I want to be with him again? Or am I going to let him walk away forever? That thought twists the blade protruding from my heart. There’s no way I can let him go this time.

  But we need to fix what’s been broken before we can move forward.

  My hand slides across his broad back, and I find myself leaning my head on his shoulder, but he speaks before I can.

  “You told me once …” His voice is deep and husky. “You said you would never reject me, even though everyone else had.” He pulls in a breath. “You said you never would.”

  I nod against his shoulder. “I know. And I meant it. I’m not rejecting you. I’m telling you, you need help. You need to find your self-worth, Hux. Or this will never work.”

  “I don’t know how to do that,” he says in a hoarse whisper.

  “We’ll figure it out,” I tell him. Because we have to.

  It’s not that I can’t imagine a future without him. It’s that I don’t want to.

  Chapter Thirty

  We spent the rest of yesterday afternoon in El’s office, going through the photos I’d collated on the USB stick for her. It was easy and comfortable. Being around her was natural.

  I didn’t feel the need to push her for a commitment or anything more than what she’d said in the gallery. She was giving me a chance, and I wasn’t going to screw it up.

  The only problem is, I don’t know how to change my outlook. How do you stop seeing yourself a certain way when it’s all you’ve ever known? It’s not fuckin’ easy. I’ve been trying to shake my demons for years, but they’re so deeply ingrained in me, I don’t think I can.

  I’ve just finished putting in an order for about thirty prints with my online printer, and now I’m working on framing concepts that will fit with the hotel. I want the pieces to stand out, but I also want them to fit in.

  El is booked back-to-back today with several events she’s overseeing over the next few weeks. She does everything, from the gallery to weddings. Her workload is ridiculous, and I don’t know how she gets through it all.

  When I asked her about lunch, she told me she was working through and was having hers d
elivered, so she wouldn’t be able to see me at all today. I’m not going to lie; I was disappointed. But I have a plan.

  I just have to keep myself busy until dinnertime. Then, being the romantic bastard that I am, I’m going to drag her out of her office and make her eat with me.

  In an effort to keep my mind on the job, I pull up good old Google on my laptop and start fooling around with different concepts for the lobby. The frame that The One, The Only is currently in isn’t going to work when it’s moved out. But then it hits me. I know exactly how I’m going to display it, and the print in the gallery isn’t going to be nearly big enough.

  I quickly shoot Bee an email, asking her to organize four fifteen-by-ten-foot prints of The One, The Only. She’ll probably think I’ve gone crazy, but she’ll do it. She’s never let me down.

  Arranging standard print sizes is easy and something I can do with a few clicks on my laptop, but I feel better about having Bee sort the larger projects. She goes through all the finer details with the printers to make sure I’m getting quality prints.

  By the time that’s all done, it’s almost six, and I haven’t heard from El all day. The nervous teenage boy in me is freaking out that she’s changed her mind, but the rational part of my brain tells him to chill the fuck out.

  I shower quickly and throw on an old band tee, a pair of black shorts, and my Converse. I look in the mirror before leaving the main bedroom, run my hand through my wet hair a few times until it looks like it’s slightly tamed, then head for the door.

  When I arrive at El’s office, the door is open but only just, like someone went to shut it but it didn’t quite click closed. I reach forward to knock, but I hear a male voice speak up, and I freeze.

  “You’re not seriously considering this, Liza. Have you forgotten what happened last time he left? I sure as hell haven’t. I’m the one who nearly failed my college midterms because I was so worried about the sudden depression you’d fallen into. And what? He comes back, says he’s sorry, and you throw yourself at him again?”