She doesn’t speak or react in any way. We’re in the same car, but somehow I feel like we’re miles apart.
“Can we start over?” I ask suddenly.
“I thought the honeymoon was the new beginning.” She crosses her arms. “Elliot, this isn’t some…computer game. We can’t just ‘start over’ every time we don’t like the way things are going.”
I swallow. She’s right, and I can’t think of anything to say.
Just…don’t be too stubborn and turn her tender feelings for you into pain. Because the next stage will be indifference.
I can’t be too late. My wife isn’t indifferent.
But I can’t help but feel that she’s slipping away, grain by grain like sand clenched in my fist.
* * *
Annabelle
By the time Elliot and I finally make it to the penthouse in L.A., I’m exhausted. The flight was short, but still felt grueling. My shoulders have been almost touching my pendant earrings ever since we boarded, and the tightness has spread to my skull and mid- and lower back. The pain hurts worse than the injuries from last night. I’d like to think it’s the trip making me tense, but I know better.
It’s the prospect of facing Nonny.
She’s at the dining table, working on her homework. When she spots us, she manages a smile for Elliot, but nothing for me. “Welcome home.”
“Don’t be cold,” Elliot says. “Your sister just took a tum—”
I put a hand on his arm and shake my head. I don’t want Nonny to know about the fall and worry her unnecessarily. I also don’t want her being nice to me because I had an incident. I want her to be nice to me because that’s what she wants.
Her lips flatten and she gathers her things. “I think I’ll go back to my room. Let me know when it’s time for dinner.”
Watching her leave, I let out a rough sigh. I know why she’s doing this. She’s been avoiding me, treating me like some kind of leper. If she were like any other spoiled teenager I’d have some clue as to what to do, but she isn’t. She’s always been so perfect, so sweet-tempered. I have no idea how to deal with her attitude or refusal to listen and understand things from my perspective.
A frown creases Elliot’s forehead. “This is unacceptable,” he says quietly.
I agree, but say nothing.
“How long are you going to let her do this?”
“I don’t know, but please don’t try to talk to her on my behalf.”
That stops him. “You want me to stay out of it?”
“Yes.” To soften my curt answer, I add, “She’s my sister, my responsibility.”
“She’s my sister-in-law.”
“But she’s not mad at you.” And her sister-in-law status is temporary, but she’ll be my sister forever.
Elliot runs a finger softly along my cheek. “One day you’ll learn that it’s okay to let me help.”
I merely smile. It’s never wise to depend on people. I’ve learned my lesson, first in Lincoln City and then with Mr. Grayson. Not even Nonny knows everything, and she’s my sister, the one person who’s always been by my side.
Thankfully my phone buzzes, pulling my attention away from gloomy thoughts. I check and see a text from Traci.
Are you still interested in that junior assistant job I told you about? And are you free tomorrow at ten a.m.?
I type Yes and yes and hit send.
The assistant went into the hospital for some kind of problem, and her doc ordered bed rest. So they’re doing interviews tomorrow to fill in the vacancy ASAP. Dress professionally. Bring a résumé.