Time-Lapse by J.B. Heller
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The emptinessthat I’ve lived with since I walked away from Eliza settles back into my soul in her absence.
For a moment, I had a glimmer of hope. Hope that she would forgive me, or at least let me try to make amends. I should never have left her. I know that now. But it’s too little, too late. Hindsight is a bitch.
I’m leaving the restaurant when Victor calls my name. I turn around to see him walking toward me from the elevator bay. “I just wanted to talk to you before I leave, son,” he says when he reaches me.
I raise a brow. “You’re going somewhere?”
He heaves a dramatic sigh. “I’m flying out this afternoon. I have a situation in one of the other hotels to take care of. But while I’m away, I’d like you to work with my granddaughter. I believe you know her, Eliza.”
My throat goes dry. No fucking way. I stand there blinking at Victor, speechless. Does he know about our past? I’m not sure what to say, so I don’t say anything.
When it starts getting awkward, Victor breaks the silence. “Hmm, going by both your reactions, I’d say you’re going to have an interesting few days. And I look forward to hearing all about it when I return,” he says with a huge smile.
I open and close my mouth. Did he just tell me that this is a set-up? But before I can ask him what he’s playing at, he walks away, chuckling. Then, he calls over his shoulder, “Good luck, son. You’re going to need it.”
I think about what Victor said the whole elevator ride up to my floor. I’m still thinking about it when I sit in front of my laptop and pull up my files of El. Maybe being forced to work with her is my way in, my opportunity to prove myself to her.
An hour later, I’ve picked out just shy of a hundred images that I think will complement the hotel and loaded them onto a USB stick to show El. I’m about to head out of my suite when I realize I’m not sure where her office is. So, I call down to the front desk. “Hey, this is Hadley. I’m supposed to be working with Miss Quinn on something, but I’m not sure where her office is located. Can you help me out?”
“Of course. Miss Quinn’s office is on the third floor, sir. Go right when you exit the elevator, and her name is on the door,” the receptionist chirps.
“Thanks,” I say and hang up.
Sliding the USB into my pocket, I go in search of Eliza’s office.
I find it easily enough. But when I knock, there’s no answer, so I test the handle, and it opens. Poking my head in, I notice the office is empty. Shit. I don’t have her cell number, so I either wait here for her to return—and who knows when that will be—or I go convince someone to give me her number.
Option two it is.
When I step up to the reception desk, I smile at the chick sitting behind it. “Hi, I just called down, looking for Miss Quinn’s office.”
She smiles and nods. “Yes, did you find it alright, Mr. Hadley?” Her lashes flutter when she says my name, and I fight back my cringe.
Smiling widely, I tell her, “Sure did. You gave great directions.” She blushes at my compliment, and I continue, “Thing is, she’s not in her office. Think you could find her number for me?”
She pouts then shakes her head. “Sorry, I can’t. Company policy. I could give you her office line, but you already checked there, so there’s no point. If you gave me your number, I could call you if I see her.”
“Uh, no, that’s okay. I’ll, uh … have a look around for her myself. But thanks,” I say and speed-walk away from her. I honestly don’t even think it’s me she’s into but the name Hadley. When I’m just me, just a guy walking around with his camera, I’m virtually invisible again.
The gallery is on the ground floor, so I head there first. The sign displaying my name is still at the entrance, and I’m surprised to find about twenty people milling around inside. Checking my watch, I notice it’s close to eleven, but it’s a Monday morning, so I wasn’t expecting to find anyone in here.
I make my way around the room, silently observing the patrons as they take in each image. I hear a little girl of about five or six say to her mother, “Mommy, I want to take pretty pictures like this when I grow up,” and her comment brings a smile to my face.
Kids often see the beauty in the simple things that adults usually overlook. And this little girl has an eye for detail. I can tell because she’s standing on a bench seat so she can get level with the picture, and she’s really looking at it, her little eyes roaming over every inch of the photo like it’s a masterpiece.
Continuing around the outer edge, I spot her. El’s sitting on a timber bench in front of The One, The Only. She’s looking up at it, and I wish I couldn’t read her so well. My chest tightens as I watch her, the different emotions that slowly pour out of her as she gazes at the very first picture I ever took of her.
I see it all: her pain, her regret, her anguish, her confusion. And I can’t keep my distance any longer.
Striding over to her, I take the spot next to her and look at the picture with her. “That’s the first picture I ever took of you,” I murmur.
Without looking at me, she responds, “I know.”
“It’s always been my favorite,” I tell her. “It’s our story, you know? You, surrounded by light, energy, openness, and love. And me on the outside, looking in, wishing I was worthy of the light that surrounds you. But never quite reaching my goal.”
From the corner of my eye, I catch her swiping away a stray tear. So, I turn to face her. “I always knew I was never good enough. It weighed on me constantly. You were this perfect, unattainable angel, and I was—am—nothing more than a destructive force that eviscerates everything in my path.”
Her eyes meet mine, and she shakes her head gently as a sad smile lifts her lips. “No, Hux, you didn’t hurt me until you left me. This picture?” She gestures to it. “It is our story, but not the way you described it. It’s me, alone, until you stepped into my life and filled it with light like I’d never seen before. I had a good life before you. I did. But you accepted all of me, quirks and all. No one outside my family had ever done that for me before.”
She closes her eyes and tilts her head down, releasing a deep breath. “Your fear is what makes you destructive.” Reaching over, she takes my hand. “You are not your fear. You never were. But you let it rule you then, and you still do. Nothing will change until you learn to let it go.”
Her words penetrate me heart and soul, but I can’t make sense of them. “It’s not fear, El. It’s fact. You know what I did to my parents. Look at what I did to you. It’s just what I do, what I am.”
Shaking her head again, she pulls her hand away from mine, and I miss the contact immediately. “So, when you asked me this morning to give you a chance to win me back, you did that knowing you’d hurt me again?”
I scratch my neck. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
She tilts her head. “So what did you mean? Because one minute you’re asking me to give you a chance, and the next you’re telling me you’re a destructive force that is only capable of hurting people. If that’s true, why would I give you another chance to hurt me? Why would I put myself in that position again willingly?”
Her words are like a bucket of cold water. She’s right. What was I thinking? I shift until I’m leaning my elbows on my knees and gripping my skull in my hands. Fuck! I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to get everything straight in my head.
I have no idea how much time has passed when I feel her hand on my shoulder. The warmth of her touch seeps into my damaged heart, and I breathe a sigh of contentment. That one little point of contact has such a powerful impact on me. How can I walk away from it again? I’m not even sure how I fucking did it the first time.
When Hux opens his eyes,they’re tortured. He’s so conflicted about who he is, and he always has been. I never—not for even a moment—thought him unworthy of my love. But he always did. I know his father did a number on him, and that’s where it all stems from, but he needs to move past it if he’s going to have any kind of happiness in his life. Be it with me or someone else.
And the thought of someone else making him happy? It’s a stab to my fragile heart. I need to let go of my indecision. I can’t keep running hot then cold with him. For both our sakes, I need to decide. Do I want to be with him again? Or am I going to let him walk away forever? That thought twists the blade protruding from my heart. There’s no way I can let him go this time.
But we need to fix what’s been broken before we can move forward.
My hand slides across his broad back, and I find myself leaning my head on his shoulder, but he speaks before I can.
“You told me once …” His voice is deep and husky. “You said you would never reject me, even though everyone else had.” He pulls in a breath. “You said you never would.”
I nod against his shoulder. “I know. And I meant it. I’m not rejecting you. I’m telling you, you need help. You need to find your self-worth, Hux. Or this will never work.”
“I don’t know how to do that,” he says in a hoarse whisper.
“We’ll figure it out,” I tell him. Because we have to.
It’s not that I can’t imagine a future without him. It’s that I don’t want to.
