with combed hair, a clean face, and a relaxed demeanor. She was determined to see this through—to push her feelings of regret to the side and enjoy her birthday with Troy.
You love him. He can’t see you this way. You’ll break his heart.
Troy was sitting on the edge of the bed in a white cotton t-shirt and boxer shorts. His elbows dug into his thighs and his hands joined together, his knuckles squeezed tightly, making his skin turn a ghastly shade of white. He jumped to his feet as she left the sanctuary of the bathroom.
“Baby, what’s going on?”
“My stomach,” she lied. “I think it was the champagne. I’m okay now.”
She placed a kiss on his cheek, her hands tucked into the robe, still trembling. He smoothed her hair down, pressing his lips to hers.
“You had me so worried.”
“I’m fine, I promise.”
“I, uh, I’m guessing you’re not hungry?” His eyes were cautious, his shoulders stiff.
“I could eat,” she said with a shrug. Another lie. She wanted nothing to do with food, but was determined to function normally. They had two days left in Las Vegas before leaving Tuesday morning. She had two days to adjust to her new status as a married woman. Two days to push the nagging anguish from her mind and body.
She managed to keep up the facade for one full day. Until it all came tumbling down the following morning. Once again, she found herself crumpled in a ball on the bathroom floor, clutching her abdomen. Only this time, she had forgotten to lock the door behind her.
Troy barreled into the bathroom after his first knock went unanswered. Elle jumped to her knees as he crashed into the room. His face was red, his eyes wide.
“Enough is enough. What the hell is going on with you? Are you sick? You have to tell me.”
The guilt Elle had felt for the past twenty-four hours multiplied in that brief moment. Knowing Troy, he was probably terrified she had some terminal illness or secret disease she’d managed to hide. If only it was something so innocent, so benign. If that were her reality, he would still love her at the end of the conversation. But she knew, despite her every desire to remain with him as an unmarried couple, that Troy was an all-or-nothing man. He’d given her opportunities to say no, to ask for more time, and she hadn’t taken them.
He’d never forgive her for this.
“I . . . I’m just thinking. I can’t stop thinking.”
Troy’s look of concern changed in an instant. It was now a look of suspicion.
“About what?”
Elle’s forehead wrinkled as she held back tears. Her nose scrunched and her lips pursed tightly together. She had no idea what to say.
“About what, Eleanor?”
Eleanor. He never called her Eleanor. Panic rose once again in her chest.
She closed her eyes tight and answered. “Us. About us.”
“I don’t understand. I thought—” He paused, his mouth agape, his hands on his hips. “I thought you wanted this. I thought we were happy, that you were happy.”
“I was.”
“Was? Then what the hell changed?”
“Please don’t yell at me.” Elle walked past him, heading for the bedroom. She needed more air, needed to breathe.
“Don’t walk away from this!” Troy followed behind her. “Eleanor!”
“I—I’m sorry. You told me I could have more time. I should have taken it. I should have thought things through. But you were so . . . so . . .”
“I didn’t pressure you,” he said, his voice low, his features sunken, defeated.
“I know that.” Elle wrapped her arms around her abdomen, clutching hard, attempting to comfort herself.
“I thought you wanted me, wanted this. I can’t believe how stupid I am.” Troy walked to the corner, pressing his fists against the wall, his head lowered.
“I do want you.”
“Stop it. Stop it right now.”
“I’m sorry, I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Anything.”
“How can you possibly do that? The thought of being my wife is making you sick—physically sick. Do you know how humiliating that is?” Troy’s scarlet cheeks deepened as rage consumed his features. Elle dug her fingernails into her skin as she watched his anger grow.
“I didn’t know . . . I didn’t know I’d feel this way. I was trying! Trying to pull it together . . . for you.”
“For me? How considerate of you.”
Elle walked to Troy, placing her hand on the side of his face. He flinched at her touch. “I mean it. I love you, Troy. I do.”