Love Always, Ella

Chapter Twenty-Five

Patrick

I bought flowers. Not just any flowers, a whole three-dozen of them. It came out of the money that my dad paid me after I helped my mom garden last week, but that is the least of my concerns. My main concern is getting my head bitten off by her grandfather for even stepping foot here only two days after the accident, but after doing some thinking I just thought that this would be the mature thing to do. This is my fault after all, and the loss of Ella still makes my heart feel like it's bleeding inside of my chest every second of the day. I don't know when that'll go away.

On the way over here I have recited my apology over and over again to say it exactly how I planned, but when my finger hits the doorbell every sentence I came up with leaves my mind. I'm standing on the porch with nothing but the flowers crowded in my hands as a woman I've never seen before opens up the door. She looks at me for a quick second, a couple of dark brown strands of hair falling right in front of her eye. When I look into them it's like Ella is staring right at me again, and that's when it hits me that this must be her mother.

"U-Um..." I stutter, trying to recollect my words. "Hi. I'm, uh, I'm just..."

I stand here like an idiot with the flowers before she gently reaches over and grasps one of the bouquets in her hands. She looks like she hasn't slept in about four days, but then again I probably look the same. The wrinkles on her face stand out more than usual I'm assuming, and her eyes have a hint of red in them from all of the crying. I guess I didn't expect to run into her mom here for the first time, and I'm sure what she's heard of me hasn't been good. I highly doubt I should tell her who I am. I'll just leave the flowers and go.

"Wait." She calls out when I reach the bottom step. "May I ask who you are?"

God, I wish she didn't want to know. I turn around and walk back up to her, despite every being in my body telling me not to, and try everything I can not to cry right now. I've been a blubbering mess since it happened, and being around her mom for the first time when she wasn't with me to introduce us hurt that much more. This is not how I wanted this to happen.

"My name's Patrick." I almost whisper, extending my hand out clumsily towards her. "Connelly."

"I had a feeling it was you. I'm Ella's mother. Would you like to come inside?"

No. I can't go inside. If I go in there and her grandparents are in the living room they'll lose it on me, and then I'll lose it all over again myself. Not to mention all of the memories in her room we had together. When I came over for dinner, or the time I picked her up for our first date, or our long night out on the beach. All of them are slamming into my head at once and I can't get them out. She isn't inside waiting for me.

"Ms. Carson, as intriguing as that sounds I just don't think it's the best-"

"They aren't home." She tells me. "They're at the shack and won't be back for at least another hour. Please, can I talk to you?"

Her eyes are begging me to come inside. I don't know why she's alone at a time like this, but when a couple of tears start to fall down her cheeks I nod my head and hold my breath as I re-enter the doorway I had with Ella before.

It feels different. It doesn't feel like some homey cottage, or a place filled with love. Right now as I look around at all of the family pictures on the wall and see different ones of Ella as a little girl on Halloween dressed up as a witch, or another one of her on Christmas with her mom and Santa, it just feels empty and lonely. It feels like this home is missing a piece of itself. That piece of itself is Ella.

Her mother returns with a couple of vases to put all of the flowers in as I sit down onto the couch and fiddle with the watch that's around my wrist. I'm so beyond nervous right now, and between everything that's happened I feel like I might throw up too. It's too soon to be in here. Way too soon.