We haven’t even been on an actual date; all of our alone time has consisted of hushed hookups in the work stairwell or staying late so he can bend me over his desk. We haven’t even hooked up outside of the office building besides our little getaway to Colorado. We are work friends who hook up, nothing more.
I sent him a message earlier to see if he could swing by my office and he said he’d make some time this afternoon, so I set about chewing through some emails and following up on a few phone calls. I am just about to grab a second cup of coffee when my phone chirps with a text message from my mom.
Hey, Elise, it’s Mom. Can you please call home?
My drops to my stomach. Ever since my dad’s stage-three cancer diagnosis nine months ago, I’ve been on edge when I receive a text like that. I take a deep breath and hit the dial button.
“Hey, Mom, how’s it going?”
“Just can’t get enough, can you, Taylor?” Nate says, barging into my office. My back is turned toward him, and I’m staring out the window as the reality of what my mom just told me is sinking in. I can’t help the tears that fall from my eyes and run down my cheeks.
“We’re going to have to make this quick; I have a call in thirty.” He takes his suit coat off and tosses it onto one of the chairs as he walks up behind me and unzips my skirt.
“Not right now,” I say pulling the zipper back up and stepping away from him. I hastily wipe the tears away and try not to let him see my face.
“Geez, you get your period between when you texted me this morning and now?”
“Nate, please. You can harass me all you want tomorrow but I ju—” I can’t hold back the sob that escapes my lips.
“Whoa, whoa, Elise, what’s going on?” I can see the genuine concern on his face as he steps toward me and places a hand on each shoulder. “I’m sorry, I was just giving you a hard time. Is everything ok?”
All I can do is shake my head no as I wipe the snotty, teary mess from my face. He reaches over on my desk and grabs me some tissues. “What’s going on?”
“It’s my dad.” I take in a long, shaky breath trying to get my crying under control. Nate pulls me in for a hug and runs his hand over my back softly.
“Shhh, you don’t need to explain right now. It’s okay just to let it out.” I don’t understand what’s happening, but I comply, letting go of the emotions that pour out of me in a flood. My shoulders shake as I bury my face in the crook of his neck.
I don’t know how long I stand there, but it feels like an eternity as he continues to rub my back and every so often kisses my hair. Finally, I pull myself away from him. His shirt is wet with my tears and smeared with makeup. “I’m sorry,” I say, brushing at the wet stain with my overused and crumpled tissues.
“Don’t apologize,” he says softly as he takes my face in his hands and plants a soft kiss on my lips. He grabs my hand and leads me over to the small loveseat in my office. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I stare at my hands, fiddling with the tissue. “Nine months ago, my dad was diagnosed with stage-three brain cancer. They found a small mass and removed it, but the doctor said there’s always a chance it could come back. After two rounds of chemo and radiation, he was cancer-free. Back to his old self, back to work and feeling great. My mom called me this morning…” I stop to compose myself, still in shock at the news. I glance up at the ceiling trying to will myself not to cry again.
“She said that my dad hasn’t been feeling very well for the last few weeks and he hid it from her. She noticed that he was saying weird words in place of the right ones, and he couldn’t remember where he left things. She finally managed to convince him to go back to the oncologist, and they got his MRI results back yesterday. He has two more masses on his brain, one on his lungs, and two on his liver.”
Nate reaches over and wraps an arm around me as I start to sob again. “They only gave him a few months…I don’t know what I’m going to do, Nate.”
“I’m so sorry, Elise. I—I don’t know what to say.”
I compose myself and stand, walking over to my desk to grab some water. “Thanks, Nate. I know things are carefree with us and not exactly deep, so I appreciate it, really. I think I need to tell Vince that I’ll be gone for a few days. I need to go home and be with my family.”
He stands from the couch and nods as he heads toward the door. “If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to reach out. I mean it.”
I stand, staring at the floor for a moment after he leaves. I can feel my body swaying. I step back and sit on the edge of my desk for a moment before sending a message to Vincent and heading to my apartment.
It’s almost nine when I sit down on my couch. I managed to get work stuff wrapped up and pack for my trip in the morning. I could have left tonight, but I’m in no state to be behind the wheel of a car for five-plus hours. I flip through some old photos on my phone that I took with my dad a few years ago when a soft knock on my apartment door startles me. I walk over and open it slowly to see a sullen Nate on the other side. A bottle of wine in one hand and a small overnight bag and flowers in the other.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, slightly hiding behind my door, realizing I’m in a very oversized and holy t-shirt with no pants.
“I couldn’t let you be alone tonight, Elise. Can I come in?”
I step aside and motion for him to come in. He places the bag on the floor and hands me the flowers. “Can we talk?” he asks.
“Yeah, let me put these in some water, and I could really use that wine if you don’t mind,” I say reaching, out and taking it from him. I put the flowers in a vase and pour us both a glass of wine before retreating to the couch.
“Listen,” he says while reaching out to grab my hand. “I want to be here for you. I want to go with you to see your family. I know it’s an intrusion, but I don’t feel like you should be driving that far alone.”
“Okay.” I reach over and grab my glass from the table.
“Really? No fight?” he says, a small smile forming at one corner of his mouth. “Never thought I’d see the day.” He pulls me toward his chest, and I fall back against him. He stretches his long legs out on the couch, and my back is against his chest as he gently rubs small circles in my neck.
“Tell me about him,” he says as I open my phone and flip back through the photos.
10
Nate
Three months later…
It’s been three months since Elise got the news about her dad and things took a turn for the worse drastically and rapidly after our visit. You wouldn’t even know the man was sick by looking at him, which is part of what made it all so hard on her. I was selfishly a little worried that it would be uncomfortable to be there, but her family was so welcomingly and loving.
Her parents didn’t put any pressure on me to define what we were, another selfish fear I had. What would I tell her dying father? Things just fell into place. We went out to dinners and took long walks around the lake that backed up to their yard. I played fetch with the family dog while Elise made a fresh peach pie with her mother and her father just sat on a bench near the water and watched us play.
There was a sadness in the air, but it didn’t stop the family from laughing and enjoying the moments that they had left to share.
After Elise and I returned home, we just sort of fell into a pattern. I would pop into her office to share lunch, and she’d tell me how her dad was doing. We still had intimate moments here and there, mostly when Elise was feeling sad and vulnerable. I was happy to provide her with that release, that escape from the knowledge that there was nothing she could for her family.
I put my feelings on hold. I wanted to support her in any way that I could. She spent most weekends back home, so we only saw one another at the office and on the nights when she’d text me and ask me to come over. Those nights were either spent in her bed, our bodies expressing our feelings, or on her couch where I would hold her while she cried.
She had
her ups and downs; some days were better than others, but this week was the worst. Elise had left early on Tuesday and sent me a message late Tuesday night that she had driven to her parents. By Wednesday morning, I was in my car, on my way to be with her. I didn’t even think twice; I threw some clothes in a bag, jumped in my car, and sent her a quick text.
I’m on my way.
“You want some company?” I poke my head around her bedroom door and see her sitting on her bed. Her long hair is cascading down her back as she stares at the window.
A small smile spreads across her beautiful lips as she pats the bed next to her. I shut the door and make my way to take a seat.
Her dad passed away Wednesday night; it was peaceful. As peaceful as can be expected. Elise and her mother already made most of the funeral arrangements, but the last few days were spent finalizing things, and of course, attending the actual funeral and graveside services. It had been small but it felt like the entire town was there. Her parents were loved and respected in the community.
“How are you doing?” I ask, rubbing her back.
“Numb…but also at peace. I hated seeing my dad the way he was the last few months, and I know he hated it as well. My dad was always so strong and independent, one of those guys that knew how to fix everything and make anything with some wood and a few nails.” A small giggle escapes her lips as if she’s remembering a specific memory.
She sighs softly and leans her head on my shoulder. “In case I haven’t said it enough, thanks for being here for through all of this. I know things have just been weird lately, we kind of did a complete one-eighty with our relationship…friendship? I don’t know what to call it.”
I wrap one arm around her shoulder and squeeze her. “Hey, that’s what friends are for. I do have a serious question for you, though?” She cocks an eyebrow at me. “Can I please look through that yearbook I see on your shelf over there?” Before she can stop me, I bound off the bed and grab it. She tries unsuccessfully to grab it from me, but I find her portrait from junior year. I stare at it; she looks so young.
“I can see a resemblance, but man, this hardly even looks like you. What were you like in school?”
She flops back against her pillows, “You really wanna know?”
“Mmhmm,” I say as I flip through the pages.
“Well, I was a bit of a loner. I was small and quiet, didn’t say much to anyone. In fact, I bet if you went back and asked most of my classmates, they couldn’t tell you who Elise Taylor was. If they do remember me, they’d probably say, ‘Oh, that weird girl that hung out with teachers?’”
“What? You hung out with teachers?”
“I had like two friends, and one of them moved away after freshman year. The other friend was this super shy, awkward kid named Thomas Fillmore who had his own set of nerd friends that he often ditched me for.”
I close the book and lean over on my side, propping myself up on my elbow to listen to her story.
“I actually skipped eighth grade, and I was already small for my age, so imagine being small and awkward as hell in seventh grade and then going into high school. My teachers tried to get me to skip two grades, but my parents said no. They thought it would make me too socially uncomfortable, and they were right. So anyway, there I was, looking like I still belonged in sixth grade, and I’m rubbing elbows with these high school girls that already have full C-cup boobs and hips. I felt like a corn dog among filet mignon.”
I bust out laughing at her analogy, and she follows suit; it’s so good to see her laughing again.
“All that to say the only person who talked to me and saw potential in me was Miss Sanders. She was a retired attorney who took up teaching because she loved kids and didn’t have any of her own. She was my civics and government teacher, and she’s the reason I became a lawyer. She used to tell me I had the mind for it, and she helped me find my voice.”
She stares up at the ceiling, running a few fingers mindlessly through her hair. “And whatever happened to Miss Sanders?”
“She died about six years ago. I always kept in touch with her; she actually flew out to my graduations from Dartmouth and Georgetown. I went to her funeral and spoke at it. I was shocked to see how many students came back for it; she touched so many lives.”
She continues telling me stories about her life growing up, and I’m amazed at the woman before me. She so strong and driven and has such love and passion for the people in her life. I can’t help but hope I’m one of them. I watch her eyes crinkle as she laughs hysterically, telling me another story, and I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach. I’m in love with this woman. Head-over-heels, knock-you-on-your-ass, once-in-a-lifetime kind of love.
That night, we made love in her childhood bedroom. Instead of feeling naughty and taboo, it felt amazing, like we were connecting on a new level. I was seeing her in a new light, a way I’d never looked at anyone, and I felt like she was doing the same.
I roll to my side and watch her sleep, small puffs of air escaping her lips with each exhale. I lean in and press a soft kiss to her forehead and take a moment to savor this memory. “I love you, Elise Taylor,” I whisper against her forehead. I know now isn’t the time to talk about our future or where things are going, and I’m okay with that, but I plan to soon.
The next morning, I head back home, giving Elise a few days to be with her mom alone. Just as I’m about to leave, her mom pulls me to the side. “Nate, I wanted to thank you for coming. Not just for all of us, but for Elise. She’s…she’s an independent child, but she needs love too, and I’m so thankful she has you.” She pulls me in for a tight hug and then walks away. Guess I’m not the only one who can see things are changing.
11
Elise
“So what exactly are we shopping for again?” Tessa asks as she riffles through a rack of clothes.
“My office Christmas party is on Saturday, and I need a dress that says eat your heart out Nate Baldwin.”
“What? I thought things were going well between you two? What happened now?”
“They are, they’re good…they’re stagnant. Honestly, I don’t know where we stand. Ever since my dad’s funeral a few months ago, he’s been a little off. We still hang out and hookup, but it’s like he’s handling me with kid gloves. He’s been way too nice, and it’s starting to freak me out. It seemed like things were heating up and going in a really good direction, then he hit the brakes and jumped out of the damn car.”
Tessa laughs, “God, girl, you need to pick a lane with this poor man. Odds are you guys just need to have that adult conversation we all dread: where is this going? What are we? Ya know, all that shit that ends up being the death of relationships. Does anyone at work know about you guys?”
“No, I don’t think so. I’m not sure if we are actively hiding it but we just naturally haven’t been openly affectionate in the office.”
“I don’t envy you; it’s never fun sorting out the dynamics of a relationship. The are we, aren’t we game.”
“Ugh, I know. Love is so overrated. Disney needs to make a movie about that concept.” I let my shoulders hang heavy.
“Love? Did you just say LOVE?” Tessa’s eyebrows are raised as she practically shouts the last word.
“I just mean like in general. I didn’t say I was in love. The general concept—you know what? Whatever. How are things going with you and Genevieve the dancer?”
“Why do you always have to say her name like that? She’s not pretentious. They’re going well; we are taking it very slow, and we’re both happy about it.”
I drag her to about seven more stores until I find the perfect dress: a long cream dress that’s covered in beads and rhinestones with a very low back and a boat neck. As soon as I try it on Tessa actually gasps. I spin around in the floor-length mirror of the store. “You look like you’re straight out of The Great Gatsby.”
The dress highlights my curves and I can just imagine the lights of the ballroom bouncing off of it.
Our party is in the grand ballroom of the flagship hotel location. “This dress will have him eating out of my hand for sure.”
I step out of the Uber and make my way through the entrance of the hotel. They went all out for our party; there’s a red carpet and a photo area. The men are all dressed in designer tuxes and the women in gorgeous gowns. There are white-gloved waiters walking around with champagne flutes and trays of delicious-looking hors d'oeuvres.
I glance around the large ballroom looking for Nate. We hadn’t discussed coming together tonight; in fact, we hadn’t talked about the part at all. I assumed as one of the executives, it’s mandatory he shows up, but I can’t know for sure.
I grab a glass of champagne and try to snag a bacon-wrapped shrimp, snaking my way through the crowd. I spot Vincent, who waves me over with a tall model-looking blonde on his arm.
“Wow, you look fantastic!” she compliments my dress; her breathy, high pitched voice suits her perfectly.
“Thank you, you do as well. Hi, I’m Elise.” I introduce myself, noticing Vincent hasn’t made the effort.
“I’m Chloe. Nice to meet you.” I make small talk with her and Vincent, but I’m not actually listening. Instead I continue to scan the room for Nate, offering up a head nod and short phrases now and then to sound interested.
I’m just finishing up my second glass of champagne when I see Nate walk in. He looks like a god damn Disney prince; I swear there’s a ring of light around him as he smiles and waves to a few people in the room. He’s wearing a black tux with a perfectly tied bowtie; he flashes that perfect smile to someone that approaches him and runs his hand through his gorgeously tousled hair. I smile as I set my empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter and start to make way over to him but stop dead in my tracks. Who the FUCK is that?
Hate That I Love You (Castille Hotel Series Book 0) Page 6
