Chapter 27
A week after Solas had left her apartment in the middle of the night Ellana still had a stomach ache. She had buried herself in work, but her mind kept replaying memories of that evening. How could she have been that foolish to rush in?
When Cassandra had called her asking if she might have the afternoon free to help her pick out paint colors for her new condo, she jumped at the chance to leave behind her writing and lesson planning for a short interval. She had woken up early, attempting to tackle her backlog, but had ended up staring at the moon photograph she had pinned up over her desk instead, playing moody music in the background.
It would be good to take a break and focus on something concrete.
Besides, Ellana much preferred picking out finishings than mulling over the merits of the Andrastian middle ages.
"I can't believe you called him ." Cassandra sighed as she held up several shades of violet with names like "blackberry cobbler," "eggplant drizzle," and "plum fantasy."
"Any of those would work for the bathroom," Ellana observed, ignoring her friend's interrogation. "What color fixtures do you have-gold or silver?"
"I'm sorry things did not work out with the doctor," Cassandra consoled, picking up a fistful of gray squares to pair with "plum fantasy."
"Oh, Cass, I feel awful." Ellana admitted, putting her hand up to her forehead, her voice trailing off "I can't believe I didn't expect him…"
Ellana paused, picking up a paint roller to have a focus for her anxiety. She ran her fingers over the fuzzy tube. She had a hard time putting to words how significant of a betrayal it had been. It was almost impossible to articulate to a non-mage. So she hadn't told Cassandra about the shared dream-or that part of the issue was that she hadn't realized it was possible, yet Solas apparently had.
"I know you're not telling me the whole story, Lala," Cassandra uttered in a quiet voice, shaking her head. "I'm not asking you too."
Ellana's hands wandered back to the paint chips. She picked up a midnight blue shade that she thought matched her melancholy. She didn't want to talk about Solas any more. It hurt.
A lot more than Ellana expected.
"I don't want to defend this doctor," Cassandra interrupted, "Only, as you said in the car ride, the whole situation seemed out of character for him-are you sure there isn't any explanation of why he wrote the review?"
She also hadn't told Cassandra about their recent text exchange. Ellana had been hopeful throughout the week that Solas might call her-or even come to her office-but she hadn't heard from him. That afternoon the two professors should have been meeting to work on the exhibition. She had checked her email several times the night before thinking he might cancel. Surely he didn't expect them to meet after what happened?
Ellana had gone to bed, determined simply not to show up. Ever responsible. However, she had relented to texting Profesor Fen'Harel that morning.
xxx-xxx-3245, 7:30 a.m.
I think that it might be best to postpone our meeting today
xxx-xxx-3454, Solas Fen-Harel 7:32 a.m.
That seems wise, Dr. Lavellan-S.
Ellana thought that would be the end of it until he texted several minutes later. She felt hopeful when she picked up the phone to see another alert from Solas. Ellana was brought back to near tears after reading the content, disappointed he would not further illuminate what motivated his actions.
xxx-xxx-3454, Solas Fen-Harel 7:41 a.m. Dagna can work with you on this project going forward if you prefer -S.
Ellana guessed that the offer was meant as a goodwill gesture, a concession to make her feel more comfortable. However, it upset her to think that Solas might not want to see her again-that he was simply done. The rejection stung.
"None that he was willing to share," Ellana replied to Cassandra absently, moving her hand over the bristles of the roller. The sensation was calming, even if it might be a little childish to find it to be so.
Ellana gazed up at her friend, who was giving her an anxious look that she had seen only once before in their decade of friendship. The last time she had received it was when she had gotten together with the "neverending ex" for the second time shortly after she moved to Minrathous for graduate school. In her defense, it was also the last time. She was at least smarter, not to repeat that mistake.
"I know you are worried that I called the 'neverending ex,' Just underneath the occasional bluster, we were always very supportive of one another."
"Yes, that was not ever the issue," Cassandra admitted. 'I'm sorry, I know that things were complicated, but-"
"Yes, we both learned that we are better friends than lovers. I don't think you have to worry about part three of the 'co-dependent saga' as you call it."
"Please- you two didn't end anything."
"We've seen other people." Ellana insisted with a roguish grin. "Some of us more than others."
"And then spent the next three summers together. You might not have been a couple-but you might well as have-"
"I was writing my dissertation, the rent was free, and I stayed in my own cabin on the artist commune. I seem to recall you also visiting us, having a wonderful time. As you know, from first-hand observation, the bulk of those summers were platonic."
Although some weren't. Ellana suppressed the memories of nights spent under the open sky love-making as the surrounding sea of grass moved like a thousand ribbons in the wind. Cassandra was a tad overwrought, her former lover, and she had accepted their differences long ago. Their relationship had died-not in an explosion as the prosecutor liked to think-but rather like a dwindling bonfire.
The recent silence between her and the "neverending ex" had less to do with any animosity, rather more to do with a lack of time and changing life circumstances.
A potpourri of different knobs and hardware next to the paint chips captured Ellana's attention. Cassandra's disapproving sigh distracted Ellana from picking up a fire-glazed knob that she thought might look nice on her dresser.
"I don't mean to scold you. I want you to be happy, my friend. I've been worried about you-the attack, the heartbreak."
Ellana reached out and squeezed her friend's arm, who waved her away. She was appreciative of her friend's advice even if she felt that Cassandra was a little overbearing. She didn't have many friends as close or as steady. For the next few minutes, they sorted through several books of paint chips, landing on a blend of violets and creams that Ellana recommended would "catch the light nicely throughout the day."
Turning to the overloaded aisles for additional supplies, Ellana took up their conversation again.
"I hope you can be just as understanding when I tell you he's coming next week and staying through the end of the semester."
That had been an offer freely given; her ex was willing to make the ride, and stay with her simply because she needed a friend. What if the two of them could figure things out?
Why then did Solas' face keep flashing in the black of her mind?
"Oh, Ellana," Cassandra responded. She was stressfully stuffing the shopping cart with several boxes of paintbrushes and pans, packing it full of many more supplies than she needed to paint a two-bedroom, one-and-a-half bath condo. It was clear that Ellana was vexing her.
"You are usually so rational," Cassandra continued, shaking her head, "Always following the rules, and then you do something like this."
"He told me you've talked to him several times over messenger." Ellana pointed out. She intended it to be more of a justification as to why Cassandra should be supportive of the plan, rather than an accusation that she was a bit of a hypocrite to condemn Ellana spending time with her ex.
"He and Gaylen are friends."
"Yes, and how many times have you two broken up and gotten back together! Now you are finally in the same place, moving in together-" Ellana argued. It was a little unfair given the circumstances of Cassandra, and Gaylen's break ups were usually due to managing long distance and two high profile careers in the law.
"Yes, well. Whatever this co-dependent mess we are walking into is, at least Gaylen will be happy to see him. The two can-do whatever it is that they do when-what do they do?"
"Go joyriding on the motorcycle?" Ellana laughed. "Gaylen likes anything that makes him feel cool. And well, as you've said time and time again,' neverending-ex' is a bit of a dreamy bad boy."
Cassandra's long term partner, a public defender, was just as square as the Nevarran woman. However, he did fancy himself a bit of a rogue.
"Ugh," Cassandra exclaimed, issuing another disgusted sigh. "They better wear helmets this time."
"Cass," Ellana declared in a high-pitch voice, her eyes widening.
"Yes," Cassandra shook her head, beginning to push the cart towards the check out aisle, waving for Ellana to follow "You are about to ask me something impossible. I know that look."
"Can you not make it weird this time-or cross-examine him like he's a criminal. Its-"
"I am a prosecutor, Ellana," Cassandra responded dryly, slamming several paintbrushes on the conveyor, her announcement causing the teenage cashier to raise their eyebrows in alarm, unsure if the comment was meant for him, or a threat. Her voice remained terse the entire time she ordered the paints mixed for pick-up later that week.
The two women has fully loaded everything into the car and gotten in when Cassandra despondently laid her head against the steering wheel before turning the car on.
"Who am I to question the will of the Maker?" the prosecutor lamented.
"That's not a disproportionate response," Ellana replied sarcastically, popping her sunglasses on, smoothing her hair back, and applying a layer of her usual matte coral lipstick.
Ellana was done with feelings for the afternoon.
If not for the rest of the year.