Ella Sullivan is an 18-year-old high school senior with a sharp wit and a penchant for sarcasm. Her life revolves around her close-knit group of friends and the love for her dog. But her world is thrown into disarray when she encounters Ms. Catherin...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
———༺✵༻——— POV Ella ———༺✵༻———
It's Sunday night, and the bar is alive with the low hum of conversation and the soft clink of glasses. I'm behind the counter, wiping down the wood for what feels like the hundredth time, but my mind isn't here. It's stuck on Catherine. Everything between us has been gnawing at me since Thursday, and I can't shake it.
The smell of whiskey and stale beer lingers in the air, mixed with the scent of cigarette smoke wafting in from outside. I glance over at Joe, who's sitting in his usual seat at the far end of the bar, nursing a bourbon on the rocks. We've had plenty of conversations over the last few months, and he's always been a good listener—straightforward, no nonsense, but with a kind of warmth that makes it easy to open up to him.
He catches my eye, giving me a knowing look. "You alright, Ella? You've been a little off tonight."
I force a smile, but I'm sure it doesn't quite reach my eyes. "Yeah, just got a lot on my mind, I guess."
Joe takes a slow sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving mine. "Something you wanna talk about? You know I'm all ears. Hell, might even be able to help."
I lean against the back counter, glancing around the bar. No one's waiting for drinks, so I let myself relax a little. "It's... complicated. Catherine and I—something's been off lately. I saw her with her ex-husband a few days ago, and it's been messing with me ever since."
Joe nods, his expression thoughtful as he sets his glass down. "That's rough. You think she's hiding something from you?"
I let out a long breath, my fingers tracing the edge of the counter. "I don't know. I want to believe she's not. I want to believe there's a good reason she didn't tell me, but it's hard not to feel... I don't know, hurt, I guess."
He leans forward a little, his voice steady. "Look, Ella, it's natural to feel hurt when someone you care about isn't being upfront with you. But before you jump to conclusions, ask yourself—do you trust her? Not just with the small stuff, but with the big things? 'Cause if you do, maybe it's not about what she's not saying, but why she's holding back."
I nod, taking in his words. It makes sense, but it doesn't make the knot in my stomach go away. "I do trust her. Or at least, I want to. I just hate that she didn't tell me. That she feels like she can't trust me."
Joe gives me a sympathetic look. "Then maybe that's your answer. Talk to her. Lay it all out. She might be waiting for the right moment, or maybe she's just scared of how you'll take it. But you're not gonna get anywhere if you're both stuck in your heads."
I'm about to respond when the door chimes, signaling another customer. I turn to see who it is, and my heart skips a beat. It's Catherine.
Her presence immediately makes my chest tighten. I feel the hurt all over again, but I mask it quickly, turning back to the counter like I haven't seen her. My mind races. What the hell is she doing here? And why now?
