Defining Moments (28 page)

I’m not even sure how long I lay there before I hear a twig snap and I jolt my body from the ground. I look around frantically, but don’t see anything or anyone. I gather up my camera, snapping a few pictures of the beautiful blooms, before grabbing my water bottle and heading back down the trail. Just as I’m about to lose sight of the field, I turn and whisper, “I’ll see you again.” I don’t know what it is about this beautiful place, but it will forever be part of my soul.

Dinner with Ben, Eli, and Claire goes well, and I cry way more than I want too. Being away from my boys is going to kill me, and Claire is my best friend. She thinks I’m kidding when I say I’ll be calling her at 3 a.m. to chat. Every time someone comes in the front door of the restaurant, my eyes jump to the door.

“He’s not coming, Ellie,” Claire says gently beside me.

“I know,” I tell her truthfully.

“Just so you know, I did invite him, thinking maybe you two could talk before you leave,” she confesses in a whisper. “He said he had plans already.”

I nod and change the subject because I feel the tears coming and barely manage to choke them down. He really is letting me go without another word.

We finish up our dinner and say our final goodbyes. I promise to text them when I get to my parents’ house so they don’t worry. The twins drop me off at the hotel and I squeeze them one last time.

Right before I turn the light off to try to sleep, my phone chimes and my heart jumps into my throat.

Justin: How could you not tell me you were moving to Italy, Ell?

And once again, I’m disappointed in myself because I’m still holding onto hope Cord will throw me a bone. This is the first time that Justin has contacted me since I threw my relationship with Cord in his face.

Me: Oh, my bad. I’M MOVING TO ITALY! :) Goodbye, Justin. Have a nice life. Or don’t. Whatever.

I chuckle to myself, turn my phone to silent, then roll over and cry myself to sleep.

I WAKE TO A BUZZING
sound and slapped my hand on top of it to kill it.

So early.

Rolling from the hotel bed, I drag myself into the shower, which I make lukewarm to help wake me up.

As I’m finishing my makeup, my phone buzzes again.

Justin: Please don’t go. We really need to talk.

I don’t respond.

Grabbing my bags and heading to the cab, my phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it. I’m done talking to Justin. I made a mistake responding to him to him last night.

Once I get to the airport, I check my bags, pay the astronomical fee, and head over to security. There is a lovely coffee shop that has the most delicious scones ever made, and I can smell them before I’m even all the way through security.

I order a yummy coffee and blueberry scone before making my way over to a nearby sofa to enjoy my breakfast before my flight. I pull out my Kindle and start reading the new murder-mystery book I just bought. I’ve decided I’m done with the romantic bullshit for now. Maybe someday I’ll believe in the beautiful love stories that always end in happily ever after, but after the beating my heart has taken from Justin and Cord, I think I’ll just keep it to myself for as long as possible.

When I hear them call my flight for pre-board, I toss my trash and head in that direction.

Here we go!

Once on the plane, I stow my carry-on, and pull my phone out to put it on airplane mode, but my heart drops into my toes when I see Cord’s name. I debate for a split second on whether I want to even look at it. My damn heart wins.

Cord: What hotel are you staying at? I have something I need to say to you before you leave.

I almost laugh. He’s had five days to talk to me. He’s had multiple opportunities, including my goodbye dinner last night, and
now
he wants to tell me something. Nope.

Me: Too late. Goodbye, Cord.

I stare at my message for a minute, for what reason I’m not sure, but when I see the bubbles start to move, I know he’s typing back, and I put my phone on airplane mode. I know the message will still be there when I take it off airplane mode, but I’ve made up my mind. I’m leaving, and he’s hurt me enough over the past five days. I’d rather not cry the whole way to Philly, and I’m not changing my mind about going.

When the wheels of the plane leave the ground, my heart somehow feels lighter. I’m doing this. The further I fly away from Colorado, the more my spirit lifts. I’m going on an adventure of a lifetime.

My parents meet me at the baggage terminal, and I almost break down when I see their faces. It’s been two years since I’ve seen them, and I’ve missed them so much.

“Eleanor!” my mother shouts.

“Hi, Mom,” I squeal as she pulls me into a bone-crushing hug.

My dad comes up beside us, patting my mother’s arm so she’ll let me go. “Hi, baby girl,” he says as he pulls me into his arms.

“Hi, Daddy,” I whisper.

“You look amazing, Eleanor! What have you been doing to yourself?” my mom questions.

“I’ve been taking better care of myself and exercising. Can you tell?” I ask proudly.

“Hell yes, we can tell. You look twenty years younger. You’re gonna need to share your secrets with me,” my mom laughs out.

We chitchat as we wait for my luggage. My dad grabs the last bag and we make our way to the parking garage.

While we’re driving to my childhood home, I take my phone off airplane mode and text the boys and Claire to let them know I’ve arrived in Philly and am with my parents. I promise to call them over the next few days while I’m here. I know Cord responded to my last text, but I refuse to open it.

MY THREE DAYS
in Philly are busy. I spend as much time as I can with my parents and do a little shopping and sightseeing. The morning of my flight to Rome, I call all the boys and chat with each of them to make sure they are all doing okay. They’re excited for me, but I can tell they are nervous. Next I call Claire, who fills me in on the breakup and get-back-together cycle that she and Tyler have been on for the past week. When it’s time for me to go, I tell her I’ll probably email everyone more than texting until I figure out the cost of international texting on my plan. I guess I should’ve thought about that before now.

My parents dropped me at the airport a couple of hours early, so I have enough time to grab a quick bite to eat before my nine-hour flight. I purposefully booked an overnight flight so I can attempt to sleep through most of it. I brought Melatonin to help out with that.

Once we are boarded and pulling away from the terminal, I put my phone on airplane mode and bring up my text messages from Cord over the past few days. I’d promised myself throughout my stay in Philly, as the text notifications came in from Cord, that I would not open them until I was on the plane and leaving. I’d kept my promise. The moment the wheels leave the ground, I’ll see what he has to say.

Cord: What do you mean too late?

Cord: Ellie?

Cord: Too late as in you’re already gone, or too late as in too late for us to fix this?

Cord: I won’t do this over text message, Ellie. I need to talk to you face-to-face.

Cord: Please.

Cord: Why aren’t my messages being delivered? Is your phone off?

That was the day I left Colorado. The next few texts don’t come until the following day.

Cord: So you’re already gone. Got it. Can I at least call you? I don’t want things to end this way.

My blood starts to boil and I’m glad I’m on this plane and unable to respond because I am so pissed and I know I’ll say something I’ll regret. He had five days. FIVE DAMN DAYS to talk to me, and he waited until I was on the plane to leave to figure out he needed to tell me something.

Cord: Eli said you’re staying with your parents in Philly for a few days. Please call me when you can. I need to talk to you before you leave for Italy, E.

Oh, now I’m back to “E” huh?

Next day.

Cord: Damn it, Ellie. I just need five minutes of your time. Can’t you even give me that?

Cord: This will be the last time I ask, Ellie. Please.

This morning.

Cord: Okay. I’m sorry. Goodbye, Eleanor.

And this is exactly why I wanted to wait until I was in the air before I read these. Because my heart and soul are screaming at me to run to him. They are telling me I need to let him explain and to give up this pipe dream about touring Italy while learning to cook amazing Italian food. I know my heart wants me to go back, but my brain is taking over.

My entire life I’ve done exactly what everyone else wanted me to do, what everyone else expected me to do. I married the man who fathered my children. I stayed home and raised them basically on my own. I took care of a huge house and looked after a grown man who didn’t love me for more than twenty years. I went back to school to do something I love. And now . . . now I’m leaving the opportunity to be loved by an amazing man to prove to myself I can live on my own; that I can be happy with my own company and no one else’s. I need to learn to love myself again, before I can ever be ready to give my heart away for the last time.

Maybe, just maybe, when I finish this internship, I’ll have found what I’m looking for, and maybe Cord will still want to take that leap with me.

WHEN WE LAND IN
Rome, I’m actually surprised how much I slept. It’s 6:30 a.m. Tuesday here, which means it’s 10:30 p.m. Monday in Colorado.

I take my phone off airplane mode and text the boys and Claire in a group message.

Me: I’M IN ROME! :) I will email you guys when I get settled at my hotel.

And they all respond within seconds, proving to me they’ve been waiting for this text.

Destry: Love you, Mama.

Ben: Holy hell, finally! I’ve been a nervous wreck. <3

Claire: Find me a hot Italian man for when I come visit.

Eli: Ewwww . . . Claire made it creepy. Love you, Ma.

I laugh, stow my phone, and debark the plane. Although I slept almost the entire flight, I’m exhausted.

The shuttle from the hotel is waiting with a sign that reads: “Mrs. Eleanor Harper.”

As I approach him, his smile widens and he speaks with a heavy accent. “Mrs. Harper?”

“Ms., but yes, I am Ms. Harper. Please call me Ellie. Are you my ride to the hotel?” I ask, praying he speaks English.

“Yes. I take you,” he responds as he takes the carry-on from my hands.

“Perfect,” I reply, turning to the carousel to get my bags.

“No, please. I get. You stay,” he tells me, pointing to an empty seat, where he has deposited my carry-on. I explain what my bags look like and then thankfully take the seat, watching as the young man waits to retrieve my bags. As he stands near the carousel, waiting, I snap a picture of him and send it to Claire, which goes to the whole group from earlier apparently.