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FEBRUARY 3RD, 2018 — ❝ FORGIVE ME, ELOISE. FOR EVERYTHING. ❞
The rest of January blurred by. Inched away, forgotten.
Most of it was spent taking care of her father, helping him regain his strength, and regulate his sleeping schedule.
And after so long, Tom stopped calling. He moved to texting her . . . Every now and then. In fact, she hadn't heard from him in almost two weeks . . . And it was excruciatingly painful to not have any responses to her texts she sent.
But she took it with a grain of salt. Maybe he was just . . . Busy. So super, so incredibly busy, that he just . . . Got too tired to text her back. Or meant to text her back, but . . . Forgot.
She hoped that was the reason.
One day, when Nikolai was sitting in his office, proofreading one of his books, a knock came to the door. Eloise had been in the kitchen, and she called out, "I'll get it! Don't worry dad."
She wiped her hands on her jeans, and adjusted her pajama top. It was one she'd had forever, her guilty pleasure cheetah print top. Opening the door, Eloise lost her train of thought. Lost everything, and stood there gaping. She had no words.
Nicolas Jade, her ex-fiancé, was standing on the porch, his hands nervously fiddling with each other. He was dressed in jeans, and a button-up, and was looking at her apologetically.
His brown hair wasn't as long as it had been, years ago. Now, it was much shorter, and when she looked into his hazel eyes, all she saw was sadness.
"What . . . ?" Eloise whispered, still at a loss for words. "Why?"
"I heard about Nikolai, about your father," He said, wringing his hands. "And I wanted to come by and see how the two of you were doing."
Nikolai, confused by the quietness of the foyer, and confused as to why the front door wasn't shut yet, grabbed his cane, and walked out to see what was happening. "Eloise, who's at the door?" He asked, coming up next to her.
"Oh." Was all he said. He had no idea what to say--he certainly didn't want to invite Nicolas in--but said, "Oh, uh, hello, Nicolas. What calls for this visit?"
"I heard about your hospital visit," Nicolas replied, "and I wanted to see how you two were doing. I--" He cut himself off, as if searching for what to say. "I wanted to make sure you were alright."
Nikolai looked over at Eloise, and she mirrored him. It would seem that both of them didn't know what to do. "And--Eloise--I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for everything I've done to you. You didn't deserve it--any of it."
That was the breaking point. Tears started to cloud up her eyes, and when she sniffled, Nicolas took her into his arms, and she wrapped hers around his neck. Closing her eyes, she thought, Why do his arms feel right around me?
Don't forget what his arms also did, her mind quietly reminded her.
↠↠↠↠↠
This time, being a caretaker for her father wasn't as bad.
Because for once, she had someone by her side.
And by the end of the day, she and Nicolas were laughing, like it was old times, in the kitchen as they made blueberry muffins.
"Do you remember," Nicolas started, "when I took you to go meet my parents, at their house, and you found out that my great grandpa was Charlie Chaplin, and how you practically lost your shit?"
Eloise started laughing, and she nodded. "Yes! Because your parents thought I was insane, and then they found out I was the granddaughter of Ernest Hemingway, and then they were kinda impressed."
Nicolas laughed, and then paused. "Eloise," He started, "I'm sorry. For everything. Please, forgive me. Because I was . . . Such a dick. Such an asshole. I was a horrible person."
Eloise paused as well, her hand stilling as she got the muffin tin out of the cupboard. She took a deep breath. He continued, "And I know you've moved on--you're dating Tom Hiddleston, Christ, I never would've thought--but . . . Just know I still love you. If ever given the opportunity, I'd propose and marry you in a heartbeat."
Now Eloise was speechless. She had no idea what to say. So, she silently stood up, and took the tray over to the stove, where she set it down. Nicolas came closer to her, and she silently continued, getting the muffin wrappers out of the cupboard. She silently went through the motions, until Nicolas reached out, stopping her hand.
He turned her towards him, and whispered, "Eloise, please. Say something."
She shook her head, her mouth open and gaping at him. Wrapping his arms around her, Nicolas went to kiss her, but Eloise turned her head, feeling his lips press up against her cheek, and then her neck.
"Nicolas . . . " Eloise muttered. "I'm dating someone."
"Where is Tom, then?" Nicolas whispered. "He's not here. But I am--I'm here. If I had known about this situation sooner, I would have never left your side at the hospital like he had. I would've stayed, and I would've helped you nurse Nikolai back to health. So let me take care of you, unlike your . . . Boyfriend."
Eloise started to breath heavily. She pushed him away gently, and went back to the blueberry muffins. "They're going to come out a little blue," She absentmindedly said, "but being blue never really hurt anyone."
↠↠↠↠↠
It was nearing midnight, and Nikolai was tucked into his recliner again.
Nicolas was upstairs, in the guest bedroom, and Eloise was outside, smoking a cigarette.
She wasn't sure if her father ever knew about her former addiction to smoking cigarettes, but it was a habit she had kicked in the last three months of her relationship with Nicolas, and then of course when she was nursing her father years ago.
It didn't feel like almost five years ago, she'd been engaged to Nicolas. It felt like it had been just two years before. But she'd been free from his mental abuse for years . . . And now here he was, back in her house, sleeping in her guest bedroom.
What was she going to tell Tom, when he found out?
Eloise raised the cigarette to her lips. She hadn't smoked in years. She used to smoke to get the stress of the abuse she suffered out of her system, but even then, it always lingered, never far away, just like her packs of cigarettes that she used to carry around . . .
Half an hour before, Eloise had been cleaning out some of the kitchen drawers when she came across her old ashtray. And then, her keys had been in her hand, and she suddenly was in the convenience that she used to always frequent, buying the cigarettes that she used to smoke.
After smoking one outside the gas station, she'd come home, and now was sitting in the driveway, smoking another one.
Why was she relapsing on all sorts of things tonight? And yet, it felt like everything was going wrong. It seemed like Nicolas was trying to hint for her to leave Tom, and come back to him, but Eloise knew she'd rather do anything but that.
Tom was her person. Her person. And yes, they may not be talking right now, but even then, he still promised that when he'd come back, he'd come back to truly propose to her, and give her a real ring, and they'd become officially engaged.
With her left hand, she held her cigarette, and with her right, she picked up the ring she now wore on a chain. Hardly ever did she take this off--it had become her most prized possession. Under the streetlamp that was planted at the edge of their driveway, the ring glinted.
