Sometimes, she daydreamed of an alternate reality. In it, she arrived at the National Airport. She took her time leaving the plane, but her stomach was rioting with anticipation of who was waiting for her when she walked out of the terminal. She passed the restroom and decided to stop to touch up her makeup. In an effort to calm her nerves, she took a couple of deep breaths. Then, she headed to the baggage claim, where everyone was waiting for the plane to disembark. She spotted him leaning against a pillar. Without heeding anyone or anything, she flew across the baggage claim lobby and launched herself into his arms. He caught her and spun her around, like that iconic picture of the two of them from the awards ceremony this summer. But because she was just a normal girl, her lips latched on to his. They would fulfill that promise from the summer, the unspoken one between them, the stuff of dreams for the masses.
“Ele?”
Ele snapped back to the present. “Sorry. No, definitely not commercial.” Traveling was another pro for her life.
“Do you feel ready? I mean, I know why you are there, and I don’t want to rush you, but it’s not really the same around here without you. And I’m actually tired of the woefully sad looks Jamie throws my way whenever we run into each other.”
Ele grinned. “Yes, I suppose I have to deal with Jamie when I get back. Among other things. But to answer your question, I think I’m ready. I’m not sure I’ll really know until I know. I have tools. That’s what my therapist calls it. But it’s almost like being an addict. You can think you are recovered, but you really don’t know until there’s a pint in front of you and you are able to resist. Or perhaps that’s too simple an explanation for both addicts and anxiety disorders.”
“Is it all right if I give you a week?”
“Yes. That’s plenty sufficient.”
They spoke about details for her departure and for the gala before wrapping up.
Ele was left to wonder about the inciting incident with Tristan. She hadn’t wanted to hear it from Millie. The judgment had already seeped into Millie’s tone and words. But now that Ele was alone in her tiny garden, the curiosity was overwhelming.
She turned around and strode into her office space. Without giving any thought to her actions, she Googled T-Dav—something she hadn’t done since they’d spoken on the phone all those weeks ago. She’d been expecting game stats, images of him on the pitch. He’d had a great game the day before, so when a link for a photo shoot was the first to populate the page, she pursed her lips. With one hand rubbing her thigh, she clicked the link with her other one.
At first, she thought it was the picture of Tristan and her, the fantasy one where he whimsically spun her around. The snapshot of her summer. She’d spent stupid hours captioning it. Summer lovin’—not very original or hip. Pure romance—because it was. Look, Mom, I won—because he had just won. I love this girl—her personal favorite. She studied him in a blissful haze. One hand was clasped around her back while the other stayed buried in her hair. The heat of his hand made her hot, and the tug of her hair made her want to drop to the ground with him looming all around her.
Blinking away the sudden burst of lust, she began to notice the differences. The woman in the photo was a brunette. And his hands weren’t quite right. While the provocative image conjured up just the right amount of sweet and sexy, it missed the mark on re-creating a moment so incredibly spontaneous and natural.
She shouldn’t be mad and hurt. But she was totally mad and hurt.
Those feelings shadowed her while she waited to hear from Tristan. To occupy her mind, she began to pack up her clothes. She had a week, but there were things she’d brought with her still hanging forlornly in the closet, clothes from a life separate from the one she’d been experiencing here. She’d expected the queen to insist she attend to some duty while abroad, but for some reason, Ele had been left alone. Musing over her reception when she returned home, she almost missed the call.
“Hello?” She still didn’t know how to handle the situation with Tristan, but the remoteness of her greeting was apparent.
“E,” he practically gushed.
His perennial joviality was both a blessing and a curse. He didn’t seem to take to the world like other people. She would call him a total optimist, but the descriptor didn’t quite hit the mark. He saw obstacles and problems; he just refused to let them faze him. He was the perfect foil for a girl who struggled to see the end because she got caught up in the treacherous middle.
“You good?”
It was never how are you with Tristan. He refused to allow her the opportunity to use the word fine.
“Been better.” She toyed with a pen on the desk, still not quite sure how to launch in
to her concerns. She was complete rubbish at relationships. As a person whose every need was met before putting voice to it, she was used to expressing her displeasure with a scowl, a look, or a direct cut.
“Have the summons come then?”
“Yes,” she said distractedly.
The quiet from his side of the line was unexpected. Her homecoming was one of those things they didn’t discuss. A line they didn’t cross. He probed for her thoughts and opinions on everything, except her real life. Or maybe she avoided mentioning what waited for her because there were battles she would have to fight, and she wasn’t sure she was ready.
Tristan cleared his throat after the silence lingered a bit too long. Silences were few for them. “We need to talk about something,” he began.
“Oh?”
Before Millie’s call, Ele might have wondered if he was finally going to broach the subject of what was going to happen when she came back—if they would be together, be friends. What would they be? She knew what she wanted them to be, and she sensed he was patiently waiting for her decision.
“It’s not a big issue. Well, maybe it is. I’m not sure. It felt like it when it happened, and now, I don’t really know.”
Ele was charmed. Tristan Davenport was actually rambling. She couldn’t think of an experience in this life to rattle him, but something obviously had. And damn if she didn’t find herself smiling, her anger fading away.
Ele dropped into the desk chair. “Go on.”