Page 47 of When Forever Falls Apart

“If it’s any consolation,” he replies, a gentle smile spreading across his face, “you’re not an ugly vomiter.”

A soft chuckle bubbles up from me. “You know what? That does make me happy. The silver lining, I guess.” I turn back around, finally closing the door with a soft click behind me.

The bathroom is no larger than Eva’s pantry, barely offering enough space to stretch my arms. Everything inside is orderly, and it only dawns on me now that I never asked Elliot why on earth he is living on a boat.

I reach into the shower, twist the faucet, and follow Elliot’s instructions to let the water run until it warms up. As the seconds pass, I glance at my reflection in the mirror to see dark circles around my eyes. I look like a raccoon.

When I finally step under the cascading stream, every warm drop feels like pure bliss against my skin. I immerse myself in the rising steam, savoring the warmth despite it being summer and stiflingly hot outside.

There’s nothing like a hot shower to wash your trauma away.

My muscles begin to surrender, unraveling the tension with each soothing splash.

After washing my hair, I wring it out with urgency, then swiftly wrap the spare towel around myself. Realizing my dress is just beyond the door, I instinctively peek out and call for Elliot, only for him to appear with my freshly cleaned dress.

He stands before me, and my heart races as his gaze drifts toward the towel that barely clings to my body. I quickly glance down to make sure I’m covered before lifting my eyes to meet his.

“Um, I just need my dress,” I murmur.

Elliot shakes his head slightly, as if shaking off a daydream. “Yes, of course.” He extends his hand to pass it to me. The moment my fingers brush against his, my eyes are drawn to the veins in his hand, pronounced and throbbing as he tightens his grip. I swallow with great difficulty and my legs suddenly become weak, as if they don’t want to hold me up anymore.

One slip of this towel, and Elliot will see me completely naked.

I grip the towel tighter, my heart fluttering as my imagination races ahead. Elliot rubs the back of his neck, a nervous gesture that only draws my attention further to him.

This is getting awkward and real fast.

“Sooo…” I drag, with silence following. “I should probably get changed.”

“Yes, you should.”

I nod, though my feet are anchored to the spot. My eyes deliberately gaze around the room, savoring the details of Elliot’s bedroom. The space is small, with a low-lying ceiling, just the bed and a table beside it. There’s a lamp on the table, and a paperback with a bookmark resting in it. It appears to be a thriller of some sort. Of course, it’s not the romance genre since Elliot would probably never read something with smut.

Though it would be hot if he did.

My eyes wander back to Elliot. His magnetic presence draws me in like a moth to a flame. I suck in a deep breath, slightly loosening my grip on the towel.

“Elliot?” I breathe his name, barely above a whisper.

“Yes?”

“I’m not in love with Myles anymore,” I confess, my voice trembling slightly with the weight of my words. “It still hurts, though.”

Elliot’s expression shifts, his lips parting just a fraction as he loses himself momentarily in deep thought. “Madelina, you don’t have to justify yourself to me.”

“Last night, you asked me if I’m still in love with him.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“I’m not… I’m not that woman,” I stammer, trying to think of a way to get my words out right. “The one who doesn’t care about someone else’s feelings. It was either sink or swim. I swam for as long as I could, until I found myself drowning without a lifejacket.”

I clutch my towel tighter when a sudden warmth spreads over me. Elliot sits on the edge of the bed as I continue, “It was terrifying to have no control. I felt like I was trapped. Everyone around me planned my life based on what they wanted. No one listened to me, or anything I had to say, like I was some damn puppet in their play.”

“I understand, I really do,” he replies. The depth of his empathy echoes in his gaze.

I gently bite my lip. “You do?”

He nods slightly, and in that moment of shared silence, I sense Nicole is lingering in his thoughts. Perhaps we’re going through the same thing. Scared and willing to run away to protect ourselves.