The Red Flag

Part LXXI - "What would become of us?"

My heart pounded against my rib cage. All the energy I had left my body the moment I tried finding the best words. I needed to pick out the most proper words to explain my situation as best as I could. However, my head was still caught in the fog from Elijah's previous remark. I didn't realize it was going to be this strenuous.

I spoke out above a loud whisper. "Elijah."

My god. Maybe I should've been sitting down for this. Just saying his name alone merely sent me into a meltdown.

"I. . . What you're feeling. . . is well. . ." The words fumbled out. "Christ, this is so complicated."

He reached out to lift my chin up. His sad eyes were shrouded from the caring expression that had melted away.

"What I'm feeling is not complicated."

"Yes it is," I responded. "I don't want you jumping to any kind of conclusion about us until I've told you everything about me."

"What is it?" He asked. "What haven't you told me?"

I took a deep breath. The air barely reached my lungs before I parted my lips.

"This is it. No turning back. Tell him the truth, Amelia," I said to myself. "No more hiding. No more shifty coverups. Just tell him the truth."

From where I stood, pressed up against the wall, I led us over to the bed. We both sat on the edge next to each other. I fold my hands in my lap.

"Remember when I told you about my blackouts?"

That night seemed so long ago. It was hard to believe that it was only last week. Less than seven days- when I confided in him about my past trauma.

"Yes." His voice was gravel.

"Well, you see, I deal with something far more complex and. . . well straight up menacing."

I pinched the bridge of my nose in irritation. Damnit. And here I thought telling him about what happened to my family was difficult. Why was this so damn hard to explain? Maybe I just needed to come out and say it. Rip the band-aid off and bare the pain all at once.

"I. . . I have a-"

Ring. Ring.

Ring. Ring.

I felt Elijah's whole body still around me. Neither one of us moved as the phone rang. It was his, yet he made no attempt to answer it. A similar look of distaste covered his face. The same look I saw back at his beach house when we were sitting on the patio. Could this be the same person that had called him back then as well?

"You should answer it," I offered. "It could be important. What if it's a patient?"

A low growl rumbled in his chest. After the third or fourth ring, he dug for his phone in his back pocket. He answered the call with a harshness that caused me to wince.

"What?" He snapped.

I wasn't able to make out the voice on the other end. All I saw was the stern expression on his face growing deeper by the second. He pulled the phone away for a brief moment.

"I'm sorry, I need to take this." Elijah moved back towards the door. "I'll be in the room across the hall."

As I watched him leave the room, I wasn't sure if anger was what I was feeling or relief. The one time I managed to gather up the courage to tell him the truth- my ugly truth, he gets pulled away by work. But like I said, part of me was secretly relieved that his phone went off. Talk about being saved by the bell.

I flopped back against the bed in a huff. This day would never escape my memory. All the while, my mind was swarming with everything Elijah told me from earlier today to the last ten minutes of our conversation.

I couldn't believe that Elijah told me he loves me. What I found to be even crazier was that there wasn't a single shred of doubt in his voice when he said it. I stared up at the bare ceiling pondering the idea of ever living a normal life.

Did Elijah and I actually have a chance at making our relationship long term? Granted our relationship wasn't exactly ideal from the start. I mean really, a secretary falling for her boss? How more cliche could this be? On the contrary, it wasn't as though I was going to be Elijah's secretary for long anyway. Sooner or later he would have to accept the fact that my position was only temporary and that Charlotte would come back from her maternity leave.

If I remember correctly, he had mentioned something about never being involved with the same person for more than two weeks. How long have we been together? Maybe five? Six days maximum? It felt so much longer than mere days.

Being around him made me feel hopeful. That I might actually have a chance at a decent future with someone. With each date we would grow closer than before. And, at some given point in time I would feel comfortable about moving into his place.

We'd wake up each morning and both go off to work until heading back home and spending the rest of the night together. All I really desired was to be just another normal couple.

But even still. I wasn't able to get those words out of my head. Two weeks. My muscles started to tense. It was unsettling to think of what could possibly happen to us once we've reached the two-week mark. Would we be able to make it through? Or would I find myself amongst the other women who were cut off by him?