That Thing Between Eli and Gwen

“What’s your middle name? After all, thanks to my mom, you know mine.”


It seemed like a boring question, but I told him. “It’s Aurora. Guinevere Aurora Poe. And your last question?”

“Will you go on a date with me tonight, Guinevere Aurora Poe?”

“Yes.”

“Pick you up at the arts and crafts corner?” He smiled.

Rolling my eyes at him, I waved before heading out. I walked back down the grayish-blue hall while stretching my arms, preparing for the work ahead of me. Then she came out in front of me at the end of the hall. “Hannah.” I nodded, trying to walk around her.

She called out to me. “You should stop now.”

“What?” I turned to her.

She put her hands in her scrub pockets, walking forward. “Whatever is going on with you and Eli, you should stop before you fall in love with him and he actually hurts you. Eli doesn’t fall in love.”

“I’m sorry, what’s going on between me and Eli isn’t any of your business—”

“I cheated because he didn’t love me.” She cut me off.

I wanted to slap her across the face, but she just kept going.

“Eli is a planner. He sets goals and has this whole layout in his mind of the way his life should be. I wanted to get married at the end of the year, but Eli wanted to get married by his 31st birthday. Why? Because his father did. He dated me because I checked all the boxes for what he wanted in a woman. There was no passion in anything we did; it was all just logical for him. I wanted passion. I wanted to be loved the way you see in movies. So I cheated. And—”

“How’s that passion working out for you?” I asked. “Maybe you forgot who you're talking to, but I really don’t give a shit, Hannah. If you don’t feel loved, you leave before you are in a white dress, walking toward someone. You want me to feel pity—”

“No. Like I said, I just wanted to let you know, because I hurt you already. You should be with someone who can love you, who’s not messing around—”

“Stop talking to me!” I snapped at her. “I don’t want to hear your words of “wisdom”; you aren’t my sister, or my friend. You are the last person in the world I would ever take relationship advice from. Mind. Your. Own. Goddamn. Business. Hannah!” Walking away from her, I went straight to my corner, closing the curtain behind me. Why couldn’t they just leave us alone? Why must we be as miserable as them?





Chapter Seventeen


The Official First Date



Eli


“Have you thought about where you’re going to take her?” Ian asked me as I changed. “She seems like a down-to-earth type of girl to me. I’m not sure taking her to the opera will be her type of thing.”

“Ian—”

“Plus, she’s been working all day, I’m sure she would feel out of place… Oh no, you aren’t going to do an Edward Lewis and take her shopping and let her buy anything her heart desires, right? It might seem nice in movies, but she might take it to mean you dislike her current style.”

Closing my locker, I looked at him. “Who the hell is Edward Lewis?”

“Pretty Woman? How have you never seen that movie?”

“How often do you remember the characters' names when you watch a movie?” I asked, placing my watch on my wrist.

“That’s beside the point right now. Have you thought this out? First dates are important.” He was starting to get on my nerves.

“Not really. Other than asking her out, I haven’t thought it through too much. I don’t overthink with Guinevere, I just do, and it feels amazing. So go get yourself a date, my friend, and leave me alone,” I told him, grabbing my bag.

He grinned like he was high, and with his silverish-pink hair, it wasn’t a hard sell. “You called me your friend. It’s like she’s melting your frozen heart—”

“Goodbye Ian,” I said, already out the door. I wasn’t sure why he was so happy I was going on a date. He hadn’t been that excited when I’d gone out with Hannah. I had taken her to the opera and she had loved it, but Guinevere wasn’t Hannah, and I didn’t want her to be.

“Eli.”

This is what I get for even thinking about her. Sighing, I turned around to see her standing there, still in oversized scrubs and a sweater. “Yes?”

“Can we talk?”

“Sorry, I have a date,” I said, turning toward the exit.

“Seriously Eli, four and a half months ago, you were about to make me your wife. Please, give me five minutes!”

I stopped, clenching my coat. Facing her again, I walked right up to her. “But the thing is, you aren’t my wife. You aren’t my anything. I gave you two years, Hannah. I gave you a ring. I don’t want to waste giving you any more of my time.”

“If you had given me your heart, you wouldn’t be able to go on a date. Not with some other woman, not yet.”

Wow. I huffed to myself. She really was that selfish. “So what you're telling me is I should be suffering? I should be a wreck, right? Because then at least you could see how badly I was in love with you?”

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