They were quiet for a moment while I tried to figure out what the hell that meant, trying “normal?” Why couldn’t Bliss try normal? From what I remembered she was very normal.
“It’s only been four years,” the guy responded. “She’s gonna need more time than that. That’s like a day to a mother, B. To her you’re still an infant. In many ways you’ve just been born.”
Again, Bliss sighed. “I know.”
Four years since what? What happened? I felt guilty for eavesdropping, but now I was curious. I wondered if Octavia knew what they were talking about. Not that I would ask her. It wasn’t my business. I shouldn’t have listened in.
I bumped into a broom backing away from the door. It hit a dustpan and both went to the floor with a crash. I winced and froze.
“What was that?” Eli asked.
“Octavia’s fiancé,” she replied. “Guess he must’ve dropped something.”
She didn’t call me by name or tell him anymore. Instead she started in on painting. The color her new bedroom would be in the apartment the two were sharing. She had a different bedroom than his? It made me question who he was. Were they intimate? Why the hell was I fixated on this?
I started to walk away and stop being nosey when she said his name out loud. Bliss said “Eli” and I knew who he was. She’d told me about “Eli” seven years ago. He wasn’t her boyfriend. He was her closest friend. I had been jealous until she explained it. They were much closer than any relationship I’d ever had with a girl in my life. Even Lila Kate. I soon learned that they were exactly what she said and Bliss York hadn’t been lying.
Just friends.
And they still were.
I left them to their conversation and went out the back door to my truck. I needed something to eat. An escape. To get the hell away from Bliss. I’d think it through then put it behind me.
I pressed Octavia’s number on my phone. Talking to her would remind me of the life I now lived. And why it fit me. Why Octavia fit me perfectly. And why Bliss York never would. That’s what I was telling myself. I didn’t know the woman Bliss York had become. I didn’t know anything about her at all.
“Hey, make it fast,” she said. “I’m getting off the plane in Milan. The buyer that took me to Rome convinced me I had to come here. Don’t have much time to talk.”
Octavia, she was all business. Straight and to the point. She wasn’t dramatic or needy. That was what every man needed. I’d seen enough drama from my sisters and even my mother at times. My dad had the patience of a saint. As for me, I didn’t. Drama and women were more than I could handle. Octavia didn’t inspire drama. She was too busy making her life appear perfect. I fit into her role and she fit into mine. It worked.
Bliss York
MOST GUYS WHO had their own place would live in filth. Not that I’d ever seen another guy’s apartment. But I did have three brothers and knew what their bedrooms looked like. When momma had enough she would threaten them, often within an inch of their lives, then they quickly put their rooms in order.
Eli wasn’t like that. He was clean, tidy and neat. He had a place for everything. I was a little worried that I wouldn’t be able to keep things as clean as he wanted them. I wasn’t as tidy as he was. I never mentioned it because Eli would lie and tell me it’s okay, that my comfort was most important. Which we would both know was not true. Even a small mess would drive him nuts.
I watched him put the last box in my new bedroom. The smile on his face matched mine. It had taken longer than we’d both planned but we were here now getting started. Living on our own like we’d always planned. Eli moved out when he began college and got a job to support himself. I often wondered when I could join him. When our brothers and sisters were driving us nuts we’d planned this very thing. Being roommates and living on our own.
I had just beaten cancer when he left. It was too soon for me. I knew I couldn’t leave my parents. Not yet, they were too raw, from everything we’d been through as a family. I stayed at home with them for four long years.
This was my late start. The beginning of living on my own. I couldn’t wait to dig in and do this.
“I’ve got a bottle of Pinot Gris in the fridge. You want a glass? I think we should celebrate.”
I loved Pinot Gris. He knew that. Just like he knew everything about me. “Yes! That would be perfect.”
He looked around my room. “When I rented this place I had you in mind. This has always been your room.”
That made my eyes sting with tears. Eli wasn’t one to hide his emotions. He was honest and direct about them. I loved that. But then I loved Eli. I have since we were kids. I just wasn’t in love with him. There was a difference and I recognized it, at a younger age than most. Over the years I’ve often wondered if he understood that difference. There were moments when he looked at me with something more than friendly adoration. I’d convince myself I made it up. At least I hoped I made it up. Wanting MORE would ruin everything.
A knock on the door saved me from having to appropriately respond. Whatever that may be. I still wasn’t sure how to reply to something so heartfelt. I wasn’t as sensitive as Eli. What I’d been through had hardened me.
Eli turned and headed for the door. I scanned my new room one more time before I followed. Glancing over his shoulder at me he smirked. “I’d apologize about this, but I think they’re being here has more to do with you than me.”