“Young lady, are you all right? Do you need an ambulance?”
Elle looked down at her disheveled appearance, realizing that a bathrobe and bare feet was not the appropriate dress for the Bellagio Hotel lobby.
“No, I . . .” she began, taking in the onlookers around her. “My boyf—I mean, my husband seems to have left. I need to know if he checked out.”
The crease above Geraldine’s nose deepened as she listened to Elle’s request. “Room number, dear?”
“307,” Elle answered. “The reservation should be under Saladino.”
“Oh, yes.” Geraldine studied the screen and sighed. “He checked out about an hour ago. The room is paid through Tuesday. So, you’re free to stay until then, dear.”
“He’s gone?” Her voice cracked as tears formed in her already sore, red eyes. Her lungs tightened and her hands trembled.
This can’t be happening, she thought, her mind racing. How could he leave me like this?
“Did he get another room?”
“I can check, just one moment.” Geraldine tapped at her keyboard, scrunched her nose, and shook her head. “No, I’m afraid not. We have only one reservation under that name, and it’s for the room you’re staying in.”
“Right,” Elle muttered, her fingers tapping the desk at a frantic pace. “Thank you for your help.”
Mortified and forlorn, Elle pulled her robe tight to her chest and walked past the elevators to the stairwell. Slowly, she made her way up the stairs, her mind blank and defeated. When she reached her room, she stripped herself down and entered the shower, turning the water as hot as she could handle. She stood in the scorching hot stream and sobbed, her hands pressed against the glass of the shower. She knew he wouldn’t return. She knew it was over.
Her skin was red and splotchy when she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. Her sopping wet hair dripped down her back as she curled up in a ball on the bed. When she grew cold, she spotted his bathrobe draped over a chair. She wrapped the soft terry cloth around her shaky body and inhaled the residue of his cologne. She sobbed while watching the door, hoping he’d walk through it, until finally she drifted into a dreamless sleep.
The next morning, alone and defeated, Elle boarded the plane to Chicago, staring at the empty seat for the duration of the flight. Her eyes were bone dry, unable to cry anymore.
When she arrived at O’Hare Airport, she climbed into a cab, directing the driver to Troy’s apartment. She had to see him.
She climbed the stairs of his building, leaned her luggage against the wall, and knocked on the door. She held her breath as the sound of footsteps approaching grew louder. She could see his feet through the crack of light at the bottom of the door. Just as she pondered what to say, those feet moved out of sight, and once again Elle could hear footsteps.
He was walking away.
Elle pounded on the door. “Troy! Troy, please open the door.”
Silence.
Tears sprang from her eyes as she pounded relentlessly against the harsh wood, but no one answered. Embarrassed and exhausted, Elle slid to sit on the floor, her head tapping against the wood.
“Troy, I’m sorry. Please don’t do this.”
After an hour of sitting in Troy’s dirty hallway, Elle pulled herself to her feet and gripped her luggage, dragging it down the stairs and into a cab.
Later that week, Elle arrived home after an exhausting day at work to find an unmarked envelope lying in the entryway.
A certificate of annulment signed by Troy.
It was over. She got what she thought she wanted.
But all she wanted was to go back. To go back to the woman who lay in a heap on the bathroom floor. She’d tell that woman to snap out of it, to embrace her new life with her new husband. To embrace the possibilities of their life as a married couple. She’d tell that miserable, terrified girl to grow up, to appreciate what she had before it was gone.
But she couldn’t go back.
And now, just like Troy’s, her heart was ripped to shreds. And she’d never be the same.
Whoa.”
Whitney leaned forward in her chair and clutched a Twizzler with both hands. She stared at Elle in disbelief and Elle wanted to hide her head in shame from her best friend. She couldn’t imagine what Whitney must have been thinking about her behavior in Vegas.
“I tried, Whit. I tried to get him back.”
Whitney sat up straight and wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. “You did?”
Elle nodded and tears formed in her eyes all over again. “After I went to his place, I sent him e-mails, left voice mail messages, wrote letters, and taped notes to his door. It never mattered. He changed his phone number, his e-mail address, everything. There was nothing I could do.”
“It was too late.” Whitney’s voice was a sharp whisper.
“He was done.” She’d hear the shuffling of feet, and someone would stand, look through the peephole, and then walk away. And her heart broke more and more each time until finally she couldn’t even bear the thought of crossing the threshold of his building.
“So you filed the annulment papers?”
Elle sniffed, then wiped her eyes and nose with a tissue. “I had to, Whit. I had this idea the first time I went there. I was going to bring them with me, tear them up, beg his forgiveness. But he didn’t answer the door. And eventually, I stopped putting them in my purse whenever I went there. There was no use.”
“Oh, honey.” Whitney placed her hand over her heart and tilted her head. “My heart is breaking. I can’t believe you held on to this for ten years.”
Elle was quiet for a moment. “Wouldn’t you?”
Whitney closed her eyes and nodded. “Yeah, I guess I would. But I still don’t understand. Why didn’t you tell him you needed more time? Why did you walk down that aisle?”
“I’ve thought about this for years. Literally years. The honest answer is, I didn’t want to disappoint him. The year we dated, I’m not kidding, was blissful. Perfect. If I’d said no that morning, everything would have changed. I loved him, Whit. I always wanted him.”
“But not enough.”
Elle cringed. “I guess not.”
“But now he’s back.”
“Yeah, he’s back and my life’s in a tailspin. I have no idea what to do.”
“Do you still have feelings for him?”
“I don’t think I ever stopped having feelings for him.”
“So maybe this is your chance. People come into our lives for a reason. Maybe this is your second chance at happiness, Ellie.”
“I don’t know. Part of me wants to think so, but I just—”
“Is it Luke? Is that the problem?”
Elle thought about the handsome actor, the one who calmed her but challenged her as well. The one who made her knees buckle and her toes tingle. Of course, he was a factor in her hesitation.
“Yeah. I mean, we’re not exclusive, but the thought of him being with Gina . . . or anyone else really, it makes me want to punch something. Hard.” A knot formed in Elle’s belly just at the thought of Gina and Luke together.
“So tell him. Tell him you want to be monogamous.”
“I don’t know . . .” Her voice trailed off as she stared down at her desk.