home with Mac and I just got a cab and here I am.” Her words came out in rambles, and she had no idea if he even understood half of what she said. She took a large sip of water and waited for Troy to respond. After several seconds, he finally did.
“Ah, I see.”
Troy took a large step back and his fingers pawed at the stubble on his chin. Even through her drunken haze, Elle knew what that meant. He was irritated with her. If only her brain would slow down enough for her to remember what she had just blurted out like a drunken maniac.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on between us, if anything at all. And I know this is going to sound harsh, but I don’t mean it that way—”
“What do you mean? What way?” Elle interrupted.
“I’m not interested in being your second choice or your drunken booty call. I don’t want you coming here after fights with your boyfriend who’s not really your boyfriend. If you come here, do it because there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. Because you want me. And then, maybe there’ll be something for us to figure out.”
He placed the martini glass on the bar, far out of her reach, and walked in the other direction. Tears formed in Elle’s eyes as rejection collected in her gut. Troy’s rejection was the worst kind of rejection. She’d felt it before and the familiar sting was creeping through her body, pouring through her nervous system and paralyzing her heart.
“So that’s it? I put myself out there, and that’s all you have to say?”
“I’m not playing games with you. Not anymore. If this is your idea of putting yourself out there, then we don’t stand a chance anyway.” He hung his head and pursed his lips, rubbing the skin of his neck with his hand. “I’ll call you a cab. Go home, sleep it off. Hopefully you’ll have some clarity in the morning.”
“You’ll never forgive me, will you? This is all just . . . pointless, isn’t it?”
Troy’s chest rose and fell and Elle noticed moisture collecting in his eyes. “I don’t know. I really don’t. But this isn’t the answer and I think you know that.”
She nodded, tears streaming down her burning cheeks. “I’ll never forgive me either. I wish I could go back . . . every single day, I wish.”
Troy pulled her into his arms. Elle clutched the fabric of his polo shirt, sobbing into the tightly woven cotton. He smoothed her hair down to the tips, again and again until her breathing slowed, until her sobs lessened.
“C’mon, Rigby. I’ll take you home.”
When Elle awoke, the ceiling was spinning out of control. Her forehead and temples pounded in agony and the back of her mouth was as dry as bone. Ever so slowly, she eased herself to a seated position and recognized the clothes on her body as the ones she wore to the bar with Whitney. Her memory was fuzzy, but the note on her nightstand cleared up any uncertainty in her brain.
E–
I slept on the couch to make sure you’re okay.
Come down when you’re ready for coffee.
–T
Troy brought her home the night before. She vaguely remembered their interaction at his restaurant, and was hazy on the specifics of their conversation. She could only hope she didn’t embarrass herself terribly. There was only one way to find out.
After stopping in her bathroom to down two ibuprofen and a large glass of water, Elle washed her face, brushed her teeth, changed into fresh clothes, and walked downstairs. When she reached the bottom of the staircase, she could smell coffee brewing and could hear the familiar tunes of the Beatles.
This, despite her hangover, was how Elle had always imagined waking up with Troy. Coffee and the Beatles. She couldn’t think of a better way to start the day. She took a deep breath before walking into her kitchen.
Troy was seated at the table, coffee cup in hand. He eyed Elle with caution as she approached the gurgling coffeepot. She reached into the cabinet, retrieved a mug, and poured herself a steaming cup.
“I hope it’s okay I’m still here.”
“Of course.” Elle joined Troy at the table. She raised the mug to her mouth, the aroma of the beverage tickling her nose and stirring the hunger of her empty belly. “Thanks for bringing me home. And putting me to bed.”
“Sure. I was worried you’d pass out in a cab. Plus, I just wanted to