In Search of a Love Story (Love Story Book One )

by Rachel Schurig

  The idea of having a drawn-out conversation about the way I was feeling made me feel tired all over again. “No, thanks. It’s really nice of you, but I just want to lie here for a while more.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked, clearly skeptical.

  “Yeah,” I said, already moving to lie back down. “I just need some more sleep.”

  * * *

  I woke up again a few more times throughout the afternoon, even managing to get up to use the bathroom once or twice. I called Greg, as promised, around five. The brief conversation left me so exhausted that I promptly fell back asleep, not getting up again until the following morning, when Ryan pounded on my door and demanded I take a shower before he called protective services.

  “This look,” he said, pointing at me, “is not attractive on you. You’ve been in bed for like, thirty-six hours. You’re starting to smell.”

  I sighed, and sat up. “Fine,” I said. “You’re probably right.”

  “Good girl.” He sounded relieved. “I’ll go start the shower.”

  I did feel better after my shower. The sun was shining outside, and Ashley had thrown open most of the windows to let some air in. As I pulled my wet hair up into a ponytail, I actually felt awake and rested.

  “She lives,” Chris said when I entered the living room.

  “Nice to see you too,” I said, plopping down onto the couch. “So what’d I miss during my mini-hibernation?”

  “Not much,” Chris said. “Ash has just been trying to convince us that you’re making a huge mistake breaking up with Greg.”

  I squirmed a little, not sure where I myself fell on that issue.

  “Of course, I told her she’s insane,” he continued. I looked at him in surprise. “Oh, come on, Emily. That guy was totally wrong for you.”

  “You think so?”

  “Of course,” Chris said dismissively. “He didn’t get you at all. The way you’ve been dressing and the shit you’ve been doing—I mean, wine tastings? Shopping sprees? I was worried I was dealing with an invasion of the body snatchers situation here.”

  I had to laugh at that, but Ashley sighed. “He seemed so perfect though,” she said wistfully.

  “Yeah, if it’s perfect to treat someone like crap.” Chris sounded annoyed now, and I saw him throw her an angry look.

  “He hardly treated her like crap,” she argued, clearly not having noticed his irritation. “I don’t call romantic weekends away and expensive shopping sprees treating someone like crap.”

  “You know what, I’m gonna take off,” Chris said, standing suddenly.

  “What?” Ashley looked up at him in bewilderment. “What are you talking about?”

  “I don’t need to sit here and listen to you make it any more clear how lacking you find me as a boyfriend.”

  Ashley stared at him for a minute, then burst into laughter. It was the wrong reaction.

  “Oh, sure, laugh. Laugh at the stupid guy who can’t make you happy no matter what he does. That’s just great, Ash.”

  She stopped immediately. “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “Ever since you guys started this damn research project, all I’ve heard is romance this and romance that. Could you be any more obvious that you’re disappointed in our relationship? Maybe it would be better for you if I just stepped aside and left you to find that great romance of your life.”

  I caught Ryan’s eye across the room. His mouth was wide open in shock. I wondered briefly if we should leave them alone, but found I couldn’t really tear myself away from the fight.

  “Chris, this is ridiculous!” Ashley cried, the exasperation clear in her voice. “You are the great romance of my life. How can you not see that?”

  “Sure,” Chris sneered. “Which is why you spend so much of your time mooning about the guys in those movies you always watch. How am I supposed to compete with that?”

  “You don’t have to!” She looked close to tears now. “Because there is no competition, don’t you get it?”

  He looked like he wanted to argue, but Ashley jumped up from the couch, holding up her hands to stop him. Her face was ablaze in color, transforming her normally sweet features with harsh passion.

  “I think we have the perfect love story,” she went on. “I loved you for years. Years! Every guy I went out with couldn’t compare with you, no matter how much I tried to convince myself that they did. You’ve always been the one for me. And finding out that you felt the same way? I don’t know any movie that could top that.” Ashley was crying now, impatiently brushing the tears from her eyes. “If you don’t see things like that, if it’s not the same for you, then maybe I shouldn’t be with you anymore.”

  Chris was silent for a moment, staring at her. “Do you mean that?” he finally said. “Do you really feel that way about me?”

  “Of course I do, you stupid idiot!” she cried.

  Chris burst into laughter, then rushed forward, gathering her in his arms and kissing her head. “Stop crying, you silly girl. I love you too.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked, her voice muffled against his chest, still somewhat bitter. “Are you sure I’m not too silly and sentimental for you?”

  “You’re perfect for me,” he said, tipping her chin up so she was looking at him. “You’re perfect. And I love you.”

  Her face, finally, broke into a smile, then she was kissing him. I looked at Ryan, sure I would see him making a disgusted face, so I was shocked to see his eyes looking a little moist.

  “They really are perfect for each other,” he said quietly. “I never realized it.”

  “You sap,” I said, hitting him on the shoulder. Across the room, Ashley and Chris were still kissing, completely oblivious to us. “Come on, crybaby,” I said, grabbing Ryan’s hand. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll buy you breakfast.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  I don’t know how I managed to get through the next morning at work. In spite of all the sleep I had gotten on Saturday, I still felt wiped out, like I was recovering from a violent illness. When my lunch break finally came, I retreated to the office in relief. I had barely sat down when Elliot appeared at the door.

  “Hey,” he said, smiling. “Just wanted to see if you were still sore from your afternoon of kayaking.”

  I looked up at his friendly, familiar face, and suddenly found that I was crying.

  “Emily!” he cried in alarm. “What’s the matter?”

  “I’m sorry,” I gasped, burying my face in my hands. “Don’t look at me Elliot, please.”

  “That’s silly,” he said, coming over to sit next to me. Without a word he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me into his chest. It felt nice there. Cozy and warm. I felt my tears abating almost instantly.

  “Sorry,” I said again, my voice stronger now as I pulled away. “I don’t know what my problem is.”

  He reached over and grabbed a Kleenex from the box on the desk. I blew my nose and tossed the tissue into the garbage can, taking the moment’s distraction to try and get a hold of myself.

  “Better?” Elliot asked. I nodded. “Good. So what the hell is the matter?”

  I laughed weakly, then sighed. “God. I don’t even know.”

  “Missing Brooke? It must have been hard when she left.”

  “Actually, Brooke and I got in a pretty big fight,” I admitted.

  “I’m sorry. Want to talk about it?”

  I was silent for a moment. Part of me wanted to forget that any of it had ever happened. I was still angry with Brooke, angrier than I had ever been with her in all of our years of friendship. Regardless of my current confused status with Greg, I couldn’t believe that she’d had the gall to question my relationship. She barely knew him! She certainly had no right to assume she knew how I felt.

  But at the same time…My confrontation with Greg on Friday night was chasing around and around in my head, along with all the resulting doubt. What I really wanted was someone I could talk to.

  I
looked up at Elliot, at his kind and open face. If there was anyone in my life who would listen, really listen, to me, it might just be him.

  “Things are kind of weird with Greg,” I said. I watched his face closely, but didn’t see a response, so I continued. “I guess we kind of broke up. I’m wondering if…well, Brooke called me out on a lot of stuff there, and it’s kind of got me messed up in my head.”

  “What kind of stuff?”

  “She thinks I’m not myself when I’m with him,” I said, feeling a tingle of shame run down my spine. “She thinks I’m trying to be someone different so I’ll fit in with him and his scene better.”

  “She’s known you a long time, hasn’t she?” Elliot asked. I nodded. “Do you think she knows you well enough to make a judgment like that?” I didn’t respond. “I know she has your best interests at heart,” he went on. “She loves you very much, that’s obvious. But the truth is, no one knows what happens in a relationship unless they’re the one in it, you know?”

  “True,” I said softly.

  “From the outside, we can’t really tell how the two people work together, how they feel. So no matter how well she might know you, her opinion is just that—an opinion.”

  I didn’t say anything for a long time, mulling over his words. He had a point. But at the same time, the little pit of discomfort in my belly hadn’t dissipated in the slightest. Finally, Elliot said, “Do you think she’s right? Because you’re the only one who can really say.”

  “She is,” I whispered, horrified to find another tear slipping down my cheek. I did not want to cry in front of Elliot again, so I hurriedly wiped it away. “I just feel so much pressure when I’m with him,” I said.

  “What kind of pressure?”

  “Pressure to be what he wants, I guess. Pressure to fit in, to get it right.”

  “Emily,” Elliot said firmly, and I looked up into his face. “You don’t need to be anything for anybody. You only need to be you. If he wants more than that, he’s wrong. Way wrong.”

  “That’s the problem though,” I said, feeling the frustration well up inside of me again. “I don’t even know who that is anymore—who I am. I feel like I’ve been changing myself to adapt to what’s going on around me for so long I can’t even tell what’s real anymore.”

  “Changing like how?”

  “Like, when my mom died. I knew my dad wasn’t up for all the girly stuff from a teenager, so I just opted out. I went for sports and fishing and all the things he could relate to. I mean, I enjoyed that stuff. But how do I know how much of it was really me and how much of it was just for him?”

  I took a deep breath. “And then there was this whole mess with Ashley and Ryan.”

  “The romance research project?” he asked, a slight smile playing at his lips.

  “Yeah,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I mean, what was that? I was freaking out because of what happened with Dylan, thinking there was something seriously wrong with me because of it. So I let them convince me I was making all these mistakes with men and the only way to change was to go along with what they thought I should be.”

  “And that’s when you met Greg.”

  I looked at him, surprised. In my mind, the two things had been so separate. There was the silliness with Ashley and Ryan and those two disastrous dates. And then there was Greg, the answer to all my problems. Had he only been an extension of what was wrong in the first place?

  I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees and burying my head in my hands. “I’m such an idiot,” I sighed. “Seriously. Who on earth thinks that their problems will be solved because they watch a couple of silly romantic movies with their friends?”

  Elliot chuckled softly beside me.

  “You’re laughing at me,” I said, raising my head to give him a rueful smile. “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you.”

  “I’m not laughing at you,” Elliot said quickly. “I swear I’m not. I’m just thinking how strange it is that we can both look at the same person and see something completely different.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Em, when I look at you, I don’t see someone who’s fake, or someone who’s trying too hard. I don’t see a girl who can’t fall in love or be loved back. I see someone who is loyal beyond belief to her family and friends. Someone who genuinely cares for her patients. A girl who wants to get out and experience everything she can in life.”

  His voice had gotten lower as he talked, so that I had to lean forward slightly to hear him as he finished. “None of that makes you weak or a mess. It makes you someone really, really cool.”

  His words sent warmth deep inside me, drowning out the sick feeling I’d been struggling with ever since the party. Somehow, I felt better, much better than I had in a really long time.

  And somehow, in that moment, I felt more sure of myself, of who I was, than I had been in years.

  The sound of my ringing phone startled me. I glanced down at the screen and felt a jolt of surprise. Brooke. My anger resurfaced and for a minute I considered ignoring it. But something, some unknown sense of premonition, stopped me.

  Looking back, I guess it’s silly to think I could have known what was coming. But still, a small knot of fear had lodged itself in my stomach before I even heard the sound of her voice.

  “Em,” she said, and the fear immediately grew by a degree. Something had happened, something was wrong. I knew it.

  “It’s your dad. He had a heart attack.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  The next half hour passed in a blur of panic. It was clear to Elliot that I was in no shape to drive. Without asking, he took my keys and ushered me out to my car, barking a quick explanation to Michael as we passed.

  As we sped across town to my apartment, I couldn’t make my mind focus. I knew I needed to be thinking of what had to be done next. Packing, getting gas, finding Ashley to let her know what was going on. But each time I tried to focus on one of those necessitates, the panic in my chest would take over, forcing coherent thought from my mind.

  Please, I thought to myself. Don’t let him die. Please, please, please.

  When we reached my apartment, I looked down to unbuckle my seatbelt and saw that my left hand was firmly in the grip of Elliot’s. Funny, I hadn’t even noticed him taking it.

  He followed me as I rushed inside, calling out to Ashley as I went. It took me a minute to realize that it was the middle of a weekday and Ash would surely be at work.

  “Emily,” Elliot said behind me, his voice firm and steady. I spun to face him, and he grasped me by the shoulders.

  “You need to focus,” he said. “I know it’s the most impossible thing in the world right now, but you need to try and calm down.”

  It was funny. Looking into his familiar brown eyes, so steady on mine, calm suddenly didn’t feel quite so impossible. I took a deep breath, then another. Elliot smiled.

  “Better. Okay, what do you need to do? Pack?”

  I nodded. “I should get a few things.”

  “Will you be okay by yourself for a minute?” he asked. “I could go put gas in the car.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Emily,” he said, holding up his hand. “It’s fine.”

  I merely nodded. He squeezed my shoulders briefly, then turned to go. I watched him for a minute, feeling suddenly unfocused without him there. You have to get to Dad, I told myself firmly.

  I headed to the bedroom, finding my gym bag at the foot of the bed. I emptied it out onto the floor, then opened the top drawer of my dresser, trying to keep my head clear. It wouldn’t serve much purpose if I ended up in Alpena with a suitcase full of T-shirts and no socks.

  I managed to get my bag packed, even remembering to grab my toothbrush and my favorite facial cleanser. There was still no sign of Elliot, so I sat down on the couch, figuring I may as well call Ashley now. I was relieved when her voice mail picked up immediately—she must have had her phone off at work. It was going to be hard enoug
h to tell her what was happening, let alone have to hear her reaction.

  “Ash, it’s me,” I said, my voice sounding strange in my ears, too calm, almost fake. “My dad…my dad had a heart attack this morning. I have to head up to Alpena, right away.” I took a deep breath. “I’m not sure…” Now the emotion was starting to creep into my voice. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be, but I’ll call you when I know more.”

  I ended the call, feeling my heart start to race again. While I had been packing, while I had a task, I had been able to block out the horrible panic, the reality of what was happening. Brooke had said he was in surgery. Apparently the heart attack had been massive. The doctors hadn’t been able to say how much damage there was. I closed my eyes. My dad, alone, five hours away. In a hospital. Hurt, afraid. Maybe dying.

  “Please,” I whispered aloud, burying my head in my hands. “Please.”

  “Emily?”

  I looked up to see Elliot standing there in the doorway, my keys in his hand. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yeah,” I said, standing. I felt awkward that he had probably heard me talking to myself, but Elliot didn’t seem thrown. “Thank you for your help,” I said, picking up my duffle bag from the floor. “I’ll drop you back at the store on my way.”

  “I’m not going back to the store,” he said, coming over to take the bag from me. “I already called and let them know.”

  “What—?”

  “I’m going with you,” he replied. “You’re in no shape to drive.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” I said quickly. “Really.”

  “Don’t be silly,” he said. “You have what, a five hour drive ahead of you? You could use the company.”

  I just stared at him. I felt like I should argue, tell him I would be okay. But the truth was, the thought of him being there made me feel better somehow, calmer. I wanted him to come with me.

  “Come on,” he said, placing his hand on my lower back and gently pushing me toward the door. “I have coffee and snacks in the car. We should get going.”

  “Okay,” I agreed. “Let’s go.”