wanted.
“You ready to head back?” he asks. “We need to meet the director.”
This is going to be impossible. Collecting her things and getting rid of anything we don’t want . . . I don’t know how I’m going to do it.
“I guess—” I start to say but a woman shrieking stops me.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” A jogger who is no longer running starts to yell. She stares at Eli with her jaw hanging open. “You’re! You’re Eli Walsh! Like, I love you. I’m your biggest fan!”
“Well, thank you.” He flashes a smile and drops his arm.
This is the first time we’ve had this happen. I watch as the woman starts to prattle on about how amazing he is and how hot he is in person. A knot in my stomach starts to coil. I know he’s hot, and I get that he’s famous, but when we’re together, it’s so easy to forget.
“You have no idea, I’ve loved you forever. I know you’re from here, and I kept waiting to meet you! And now you’re here!” She screeches, and I barely contain my flinch.
Eli reaches his hand back, twisting his fingers in mine. “It was great to meet you, but I need to be going,” he smoothly explains.
“Can you take our picture?” she asks me.
The last thing I want to do is be a photographer, but I have to remember this is part of who he is. To me, he’s Ellington, the guy who watched awful comedy movies with me the last two days. He carefully picked each one to ensure nothing would trigger me breaking down again. He made sure I ate, slept, and functioned. He’s the man who held me together when I was breaking apart. I don’t share that man with these women, but Eli is a superstar. He doesn’t belong to just me.
“Oh, sure.” I grab her phone, and he shoots me an apologetic look.
The woman gushes some more, touches his arm, and doesn’t even glance at me again. I take the photo and watch her hug him once more. She runs off, glancing back at him a few more times. What is wrong with these people? I know that I did that with Eli, but I was drunk and at a concert where I never thought he’d actually hear me. If I had been sober and in a normal setting, I would have waved or smiled, but telling him I loved him? No. That’s ridiculous.
I love him. She doesn’t even know him.
He walks toward me, and I can’t get a grip on the emotions I’m feeling. “Hey,” he says tucking his thumb under my chin. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” This is what his life is filled with, he shouldn’t have to apologize for that.
“I brought you here because I wanted us to get some air, I forget that this can happen.”
“How do you forget that?”
Regret flickers across his face. He reaches behind his neck, gripping it as he looks back at me. “When we’re together, it’s like I’m not that guy. You make me forget all of the shit that comes with singing and acting. I feel . . . normal.”
“I was caught off guard, that’s all. I’m pretty sure if this happened a week ago I wouldn’t be acting crazy.”
“You are not acting crazy, baby. Not even a little.”
I don’t trust whatever I’m thinking right now. It’s a hint of jealousy mixed with a lot of grief. Not exactly the cocktail for sound decision making. I’m definitely filing this instance in my memory bank to recall later. I need to reconcile loving someone who I have to share. I’m not sure I know how to do that.
Chapter 21
Heather
Today was the memorial.
It was the final formal event of my sister’s life. Kristin and Nicole took care of the flowers and handled all the arrangements. Stephanie knew exactly what she wanted and laid it all out years ago. She had prepaid for the funeral home, memorial location, and casket, claiming that she knew I’d pick some ugly wood design and be too distraught to care. I thought she was being silly, but it turns out she was right.
I’m a mess and far worse than I thought I would be.
I figured because we knew it was coming, I would’ve been at peace. There’s nothing peaceful about this.
When we got to Breezy Beaches the other day, I couldn’t do it. As soon as Eli parked the car, I lost it.