Chapter Four: Smoke Between Us
The fire crackled quietly, throwing soft shadows across Eli's face, making him look older sharper in all the ways that made my chest ache. He sat on the bench like he owned the night, legs spread, one hand nursing a beer, the other lazily poking at the fire with a stick.
I stood at the edge of the patio, clutching my own bottle, unsure if I belonged here anymore.
He didn't look up right away. Just said, "Didn't think you'd come back."Didn't think I would either," I replied, my voice a little too quiet.He glanced over then, his eyes darker than I remembered, unreadable. "And yet here you are."
"Yeah," I breathed, stepping closer. "Here I am."
I sat across from him, the cold metal of the chair biting through my jeans. We were only a few feet apart, but it felt like miles five years of distance, shame, and silence stretching wide between us.
"So," kelvin said after a beat, "Boston treat you well?" I nodded. "It was good. Busy. Different."
He smirked. "Sounds vague."I guess I'm out of practice with small talk."His eyes flicked to mine, holding. "Then let's not do small talk."
My breath caught. I should've known better. Kelvin was never one to tiptoe. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "Why'd you leave, Anna?"
I hesitated. He deserved the truth. But how do you explain something that broke you in ways even you couldn't name? Because I messed up, I said finally.Kelvin didn't flinch. "We both did." I shook my head. "No. You didn't. I ....
Thought I was Josh," he finished for me, the words like gravel, I winced. I did," I admitted. "But only at first. Then I didn't want to stop."
The words hung in the air between us, raw and dangerous.He sat back slowly, his expression unreadable.You know, he said, voice low, that night… for a moment, I thought everything I wanted was finally happening."
I blinked. "What do you mean?"
He met my gaze, steady and unblinking. "I wanted you, Anna. Long before that night. And maybe I thought just maybe you wanted me too." My throat tightened. "But I didn't say anything. I never said anything." Kelvin let out a quiet laugh. "Yeah, well. You weren't the only coward."
We fell into silence. The fire crackled between us like a third presence hot and alive and unpredictable.I looked at him, really looked.
His jaw was sharper, stubble dusting the skin I remembered kissing in the dark. His hoodie stretched across shoulders broader than I remembered, and his hands those hands rested loosely around the bottle, calm but capable of undoing me in a heartbeat.
I'd been dreaming about those hands for five years. You hated me after that, I said softly.
"No," he replied immediately. "I hated that you left. I hated that I didn't stop you.You didn't try. You didn't give me the chance.
We were too close now. Emotionally, physically. I could feel the heat of his body like a pull, like gravity. He stood and took a slow step toward me. I didn't move.
"You think I didn't want to chase you?" he asked. "I watched you walk away and every day I told myself you were better off. That I was just the mistake you wanted to forget.You weren't a mistake, I said, almost a whisper.
He was in front of me now. Close enough to touch.But I was second choice, he said.
"No, I said, standing too, the tension making it hard to breathe. You were the surprise I wasn't ready for. We were eye to eye now. Inches apart.
His hand lifted, hovered near my cheek like he was afraid to touch me.
"Are you ready now?" he asked, voice barely audible.
I didn't know.
But I was tired of pretending I didn't still dream about him. Tired of running.
I let my hand touch his chest, right over his heart.
It was beating fast.
So was mine.
Before I could speak, the back door creaked open. Laughter filtered out from inside. I stepped back fast, heart hammering. kelvin didn't move.
He just watched me with that look again the one that said everything we'd tried to bury wasn't dead at all.
It was just waiting for the right moment to rise.