We Both Reborn And I Let Go This Time Chapter 11

We Both Reborn And I Let Go This Time Chapter 11

Years slipped by, and before I knew it, times had changed.

Independent boutiques were opening everywhere, and running your own business no longer made people look at you sideways. The people who got in early were the ones getting ahead, and I was one of them.

My clothing shop had grown over those two years. I went from one sewing machine to three, from working alone to training three girls to sew, from taking orders to sourcing my own fabrics and designing my own

patterns.

Arthur helped me apply for a business license. He went to the bank four times, secured a loan, rented a small workshop in Eastwood, and hung a sign above the door that read “Eleanor’s.”

On opening day, he took the afternoon off to help me haul equipment, mount the sign, and greet every person who walked through the door. His uniform was dusty and his collar was dark with sweat, but he smiled more

that afternoon than I’d ever seen.

“What are you so happy about?” I asked.

“You’re happy,” he said. “That’s enough.”

He was still like that. Never a lot of words, but every one of them landed soft.

The workshop did better than I’d imagined. The shirts and dresses I designed looked sharp and were priced right, and they sold out the week they hit the shelves.

When I ran the numbers at the end of the first year, the profit after expenses was more money than I’d ever

held in my life.

I couldn’t believe the number.

Something I never would’ve dared to dream about had happened, just like that.

Arthur handed me the bankbook and said, “Your money. You handle it.”

I didn’t argue. I took it and locked it in the cabinet.

Just when things were getting better than ever, Raymond showed up again.

He’d lost more weight, and he looked older than the last time I’d seen him. He was barely in his thirties, but the hair at his temples had already gone gray.

He stood at the workshop door in a worn-out jacket, a paper bag hanging from one hand.

“Eleanor,” he said.

I stood in the doorway. I didn’t go out.

I stood in the doorway. I didn’t go out.

“What are you here for?”

“Just wanted to see you.” His voice was quiet. “I heard you opened a workshop. Heard it’s doing well.”

“It is.”

“That’s good.”

Silence settled between us.

He set the paper bag on the ground. “Brought you something. Maple fudge. I heard you liked it.”

I didn’t take it.

“Raymond,” I said. “What do you really want?”

He was quiet for a long time. When he spoke, his voice was rough.

“I don’t want anything. I just… wanted to see you.”

“You’ve seen me. You can go.”

“Eleanor…”

“I still remember the message you sent me. ‘Let me and Clara have what we were supposed to.” My voice

was steady. “I gave you that. Clara’s divorced. You’re free. What more could you possibly want?”

“I…”

“You want me back,” I said, finishing the sentence for him. “Don’t you?”

He didn’t deny it.

“It’s too late,” I said. “Raymond, it’s too late.”

I turned and walked back into the workshop. The bag of maple fudge stayed where he’d left it.

Arthur found out later. He didn’t say anything about it, but that night at dinner he served me an extra portion.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know,” he said.

“Then what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing He set down his fork and looked me in the eye. “I’m just wondering what I did in some past life to

deserve you.”

I smiled.

“Well,” I said, “you’d better keep wondering. For the rest of your life.”

-The End-