He Said Waiting Is Romantic But Not For Me Chapter 09

He Said Waiting Is Romantic But Not For Me Chapter 09

“ELISE!” 

He screamed after me, his voice tearing. 

Passersby stopped and stared at the Eastern man kneeling in the rain. “Please–give me one more chance. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Anything!” 

I stopped. Turned around. 

Looked at him kneeling there in the muddy water, dignity thrown away, begging. 

Too late. Way too late. 

I walked back to him, looked down from above. 

Do you remember the bruise on my wrist?” 

“Cole. 

His whole body stiffened. He looked up, eyes wild. “Yes. You said the plane diverted.” 

“That flight hit severe weather.” 

I used the calmest voice I had to describe the worst 

memory. 

“The plane dropped out of the sky at thirty thousand feet. Multiple times. The oxygen masks dropped. The cabin was full of people crying.” 

Cole stopped breathing. His eyes went huge. 

“I thought I was going to die.” 

I looked at him. No warmth. 

“I called you. Twice. With shaking hands. I wanted to hear your voice. I wanted to tell you I might not make it back.” 

“But your phone was off.” 

Cole’s body started shaking violently. He seemed to collapse inward, sinking into the puddle. 

“And when I landed–drenched in cold sweat, shaking- 

and saw your post?” 

“You were holding up baby’s breath, waiting for some 

other woman to land.” 

“And you wrote that waiting is romantic.” 

“Cole–the Elise who loved you? She died in that storm at 

thirty thousand feet. Gone.” 

I finished. 

The last knot of resentment in my chest dissolved into the 

cold London rain. 

Cole sat there like a man on death row, mouth open, no 

sound coming out. 

Tears and snot running together. Utterly destroyed. 

He finally understood what I’d been carrying that night. The desperation of someone who had almost died. 

And he’d been worrying about a scratch on Tessa’s knee. 

“Don’t come looking for me again. Don’t make me take away the last bit of decency I’m giving you.” 

I turned and walked into the coffee shop without looking 

back. 

Through the glass door, I saw Cole lying facedown in the muddy street. 

He was crying like a broken thing, ripped apart. 

I bought a hot latte and held it in both hands. 

The warmth spread through the cup, into my palms. 

The person outside had nothing to do with me anymore.