Chapter 8: Drown One's Sorrows

Summary: Elli struggles between right and wrong as she and Rick share a drink at the inn. This is the second of three updates this month. (July 2022)

Elli charged down the steep lamplit streets, her boots pounding out a rapid rhythm that her heartbeat and thoughts raced past. On the breaths that rushed out of her, she muttered the words she hadn't had the chance to hurl at Trent.

He had broken their unspoken rule by dredging up her family. Those nightly talks they shared had been one of the only parts of her day where she didn't feel like she was drowning. Strawberries and coffee and red magic flowers? Who cares about unimportant little things like that? And that's what made them so nice to talk about—like she didn't have anything more pressing in her life. Like her life was normal.

Her boot stomped on her long skirt, jerking Elli toward the cobblestones. A spike of adrenaline shot her upright, but it couldn't steady her—her legs were too weak to withstand the force of all that drove her down.

She was used to villagers judging her for how she cared for Stu, but never for how she cared for her grandma.

But…do they?

The breath rushed out of her burning lungs, and Elli dropped her hands to her knees to grasp at the shortest ones.

If they didn't, wasn't it just because they didn't know how bad a job she was doing? But Trent knew, and the truth of that stabbed at something right at the core of her. She gripped her knees until they hurt.

How could I let this happen?

She couldn't stand tall again but stumbled forward with hunched shoulders, wanting to be alone, wanting to be comforted, wanting. All her want left her sapped and sluggish by the time she reached the inn.

It had been a social hub since Mineral Town's inception, but Elli hadn't visited since she had treated a drunken tourist last Sheep Festival. The man had toppled down the stairs, and Doug had insisted on an evaluation. Being too drunk to brace for impact, the tourist had been bruised but otherwise fine. Yet Elli braced against the door handle now. Light and sounds of people filtered through the inn's windows while she stood locked in place. If only she were still angry, maybe then she'd have the strength to let go, jump in, and join them.

Her stomach lurched at the thought. The inn? Really? This is where you go after everything Trent said? Not to take care of your family? You are selfish.

Her anger with herself was the final push that made her pull.

With so few townspeople, Elli expected the inn's dining room to be sparsely seated. She wasn't wrong. The tables stood abandoned, minutes away from the owners decking them with flipped chairs like grave markers. The bar, however, burst with life.

Regulars lounged under the yellow lights, and Ann weaved through their conversations with arms full of full drinks, then empty glasses.

As Elli drifted through the deserted dining room, Duke's full-throated laugh overpowered the sound of her soft steps. He regaled the room from the center of the bar, a highball glass and cigar loosely held in one hand. Its sweet odor gradually overcame the lingering scent of dinners already shared. Though Elli couldn't make out his voice, Duke talked with his hands, and a swirl of dense blue smoke announced he neared the end of his joke.

Rick sat beside him, his back to Elli and a stout in his hand. Elli watched how the back of his shirt stretched over his shoulders as he chuckled in anticipation of the punchline. He had changed out of the dirty summer flannel he had held her against earlier that day.

Duke leaned in, and the group jumped back with a roar of laughter. Just the sound of it had something resembling a laugh rising in Elli's tight throat. Duke grinned and returned his cigar to his mouth, celebrating another successful performance. Rick pulled his glasses off to wipe the tears away, and when he put them back on, his eyes went wide behind them—he had spotted her.

"Wha—? What're you doing here?" He beamed, jumped out of his seat, and waved her to the group. "C'mere!"

Elli warmed under the bar lights as the others called out a loud greeting. She said hello through a weak smile.

"What're you doing here?" Rick repeated.

She forced her smile wider. "I don't know. I want to have some fun."

"Do you now?" Duke knowingly laughed.

"Stay for a drink!" Basil invited.

Duke smirked. "I think she's staying for the night."

A flush of heat swept across the back of Elli's neck.

"Hey, knock it off," Rick ordered Duke with a good-natured shove that sent the ice clinking against Duke's glass. Rick turned to Elli. "So, fun." He inhaled deeply and laughed it out. "Yeah, I'll see what I can do! Let's find you a seat."

"I don't mind standing."

"Please, who do you think I am?" He grabbed his beer and stepped closer to murmur in her ear. "Besides, if you want a good time, we'd better get away from these assholes. They like to think it's their wives who're the gossips, but I'm here enough to know they're just as bad."

Elli rubbed her ear against her shoulder and giggled. Giggled? When's the last time she did that? Before she could remember, Rick put his hand against her back to guide her to two empty seats at the other end of the bar. The scuff of barstools cut over the lull of a smooth-voiced country ballad Elli knew all the words to. Doug played his favorite music when it wasn't high season, and his unchanging taste comforted Elli. She hadn't missed much after all.

The second Elli sat on her barstool, it wobbled, driving her against Rick beside her.

"How much have you had?" he teased as she scrambled to right herself.

"I haven't—the legs—!"

"Relax, I'm just playing with you. But hey, I just remembered why no one sits in that one. Wanna trade?"

"No, I can keep it right." She kicked off the bar's brass footrail and pulled her knees tight together until her stool was balanced away from him.

"So, what're you drinking?"

Elli went still as she realized she was missing the familiar weight of her bag over her shoulder. "Oh, I—I didn't bring any money."

"No problem. I'll take care of you."

She smiled and rubbed at her neck, unsure if she wanted him to, but she decided she'd let him. "Thanks."

"So, what'll it be?"

She blinked, her mind too scattered to try to remember alcohol again. "Surprise me. Hit me with your best shot."

Rick's brows flashed up, and he held them there. "A shot, huh? Have you eaten?"

"Yeah!" she lied. She wouldn't allow him to buy her more than a drink. Well, no more than two.

The kitchen door hinges squeaked as Ann burst back into the bar, and Rick flapped his hands after her long red braid. "Hey, Ann!"

"If you need somethin', talk to my dad!" she huffed, but her face lit up when she spotted Elli. "Hey! Long time, no see!"

"Too long!" Elli grinned wider as she wrung her wrist, hoping if she matched Ann's friendliness, Ann would forgive her neglect.

"We're having a drink," Rick boasted. "Wanna hang out?"

Ann studied the pair, then scratched at the back of her head. "Nah, you two look like you have a lot to catch up on, just the two of ya. Besides, if I don't talk to those old farts, who will?"

She darted over to the other end of the bar, leaving Elli guilty and relieved.

"So—"

"Rick, Rick!" Duke interrupted, and the pair turned to face him. He sat among a huddle of men, their shoulders already shaking. "Listen! Ann's got something to say!"

He whispered something to Ann before biting his cigar in his grin.

Her voice chimed over the snickers. "Let me know if you need some nuts!"

The men erupted into cackles as Ann repeated, "What?" though Elli could tell by the way Ann lifted herself in her shoes each time she asked that she definitely knew what she said. Her dad was less amused. Duke's cackling turned to playful protestations once Doug rolled up his sleeves to scold him.

Rick turned around but didn't look at Elli.

"Sorry about them," he said casually, but pink crept over his cheeks. "I don't know why everyone—it's like they're teenagers or something. Well, I guess Ann is, but Duke's, like, twice our—"

"It's okay," Elli laughed, genuinely this time. "I'm ignoring them. I just wanna spend time with you anyway."

"Ha," was all Rick managed before he finished his beer with a long drink. He ordered two shots of amber liquid from Doug. Elli held her eyes on Rick as she lifted the shot glass under her nose.

"It smells like honey."

"Doesn't taste like it, though." He raised his glass. "Ready? One, two, three!"

Elli threw back her head, and the alcohol hit the back of her throat. She aimed to coolly hold her eyes on Rick while she swallowed, but the liquor's burn set her eyes and nose crinkling. Her stool nearly tilted into him again, but she caught the footrail in time.

Rick was unphased by the shot, though his face grew redder, and he laughed softly. "Shit."

"What?" she laughed back, self-conscious.

"Nothing."

"No, what?"

"I just can't believe you took a shot. Can't believe you're here!" She felt his large hand grip and shake her arm.

"Well, here I am."

His smile became huge. "Want another one?"

The hard aftertaste hadn't cleared from her throat, but Elli nodded, proud of herself for making him smile like that. "One more, then I'd better slow down."

"Me too. Doug?" Rick held up his empty shot and pint glass to the bartender. "Two more of each, please!"

Elli felt a little surprised—this was him slowing down? The hiss of the draft beer Doug poured was punctuated by the patter of bar nuts hitting the bartop—Duke managed to pelt a few toward Rick. Rick laughed shakily before he seized one and, in a single motion, wheeled around and pitched it at Duke hard enough for Elli to hear it hit his vest.

"Hey!" Duke laughed heartily.

"Choke on it!" Rick snapped.

"You'll have to buy me dinner first!"

Ann took her turn at scolding Duke—she wasn't going to clean that mess up!—and she was far brasher than her dad.

"Wow, you seem right at home here," Elli laughed, her cheeks sore from smiling so much. "You like it?"

"Eh, somehow," Rick said, sweeping a peanut aside. "I like it a lot better now you're here. Why are you here?

Elli's smile dimmed. "Agh, just, today was rough!" She forced a light laugh and looked down at a smudge on the spotless bartop. "I guess tonight was too! So…so I just had to get away from the clinic before I blew up, you know?"

Though she tried so hard to sound lighthearted, something heavy sunk within her. She had blown up, even if Trent had cut it short.

"Elli loses her temper?" Rick teased.

"I lose it all the time." Her smile was becoming too heavy to hold.

"Really? At who?

Elli fidgeted with her shot glass, wishing Doug would hurry and refill it already. She usually lost it at Grandma and Stu, but there was no way she could admit that. "This time, it was the doctor."

Rick smirked. "Yeah, well, that makes sense. What happened?"

Shame churned the liquor in her stomach. How could she admit how unfixably broken her life was? Instead, she lifted another smile out of herself. "Who wants to get into all that?"

But Rick saw through it. "He didn't do anything…?"

"No."

Rick nodded and leaned against the back of his seat. "Good, but he shouldn't be pissing you off at all."

Doug served their beers, and Elli watched the liquor bottle gurgle as he poured another round of shots. She reached for the shot glass the instant it was filled and splashed the liquor against her throat. Rick hurried after her.

He blew out an alcohol-tinged breath and laughed again. Elli tried to follow his lead but couldn't. Instead, she reached for her pint. The dark stout Rick ordered for them smelled a little like the vanilla extract she and Karen used to get drunk on when they were fourteen.

"You know, I never got it, " Rick began, "why does everyone act like it's the worst thing in the world to be angry and show it? You should be angry when things are wrong. You need it to change them."

"Some things you can't change, though," Elli muttered against the rim of her glass.

"Oh, that's bullshit!" Rick scoffed, and Elli whipped her head at him. "What? It's true."

She shrugged half-heartedly. "I wish you were right, but some things just can't get better no matter how hard you try."

Rick watched her as she drank. When he spoke next, his voice was low with understanding.

"Hey, don't beat yourself up. You're doing your best."

Elli shook her head; she knew she hadn't been.

"That doctor's a pretty aggravating guy, huh? You're not the only one a little pissed at him."

"Yeah, you made your opinions pretty plain."

Rick chuckled and rubbed a thin sheen of sweat from his forehead. "I wasn't talking about me, but yeah."

"Who?"

"Look around!" he cried out, swinging his arms out at the rest of the bar, and Elli shushed him. "Sorry, but he's been here over a week and hasn't even dropped in here or said hey or nothing! You think people haven't noticed? He ignores them on the street!" Rick clicked his tongue. "I swear, acting like he's so much better than everyone just because he has the personality of a bagel." He held up his hand into a zero.

A bark of laughter escaped from Elli. "A bagel? Where did you get that one from?"

"I don't know. Popuri, probably." Rick chuckled.

"A bagel. Nah, try oatmeal."

"Okay, whatever, the man has the personality of oatmeal then!"

Elli laughed again, and Rick leaned closer.

"And, And! To make things even worse," he continued, his voice growing more intense, "he's doing nothing different. He might as well have not come at all."

"No, he's doing things," Elli immediately insisted, but she wasn't defending Trent. "He just doesn't care about the people he's doing them to. We're all just problems he doesn't want to solve."

As soon as she said it, she felt it wasn't true but drowned the feeling with a bitter drink of beer. How could he just leave her out there?

"Well, I haven't seen anything different," Rick said. "You should have heard Ma today, talking about him like he's the best thing since sliced bread. Why? I have no idea. But she's not exactly the greatest judge of character."

Elli peered at him over the rim of her glass. Did Lillia still not talk to him?

"But who knows if she's even telling the truth?" he ranted. "She never says what's in her head—always been that way. Making up fairytales about magic flowers and pretending she's just dandy…Goddess." He lifted his glass to take another drink, then set it down and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Did you know that?"

She shook her head.

"Yeah, before Rod finally left for good, there were all those little times he left that everyone seems to forget about." He laughed with an unkind smile. "He'd run off, and Ma was left to take care of us for, what? A few days? Weeks? Who knows when you're a kid? But I remember a lot pretty damn well."

Elli lowered her head and let her side-swept bangs hang over her eyes. She hadn't forgotten those times. No one had talked about them when they happened, so why would they talk about them now? Though, that wasn't true. They had talked about it every time it happened, just not to Rick's family. She could remember hearing hushed voices over after-service refreshments whenever Karen's family brought Rick and Popuri to church. Everyone knew what it meant—they were living with them again. It had always felt wrong to count blessings around them.

"She'd try and pretend like everything was fine, but I could tell. Hell, even Popuri could tell. She may not say much, but Ma's pretty easy to read. She wouldn't eat her breakfasts. Then lo and behold, here comes Rod!" Rick swung out his arms as if to pull someone in for a hug before he stabbed them in the back. "Probably once he ran out of money, but who the hell really knows? But he'd always have flowers. Like that made everything better?" He shook his head disparagingly. "Well, for Ma, it did. 'Magic flowers,' she actually told Popuri, to 'cure her sadness.' How stupid." He sneered. "And you want to know what's even stupider? Me and Popuri, once when he disappeared for a few days, we got this idea—what if we gave her flowers? You know, cut out the middleman! So, me and Popuri went out to Mother's Hill and picked the best, most beautiful flowers for her. I'm talking flowers the size of your head!" Rick cupped his hands around Elli's face without touching her and gazed at her mouth. "Red and pink and…and every other damn color of the rainbow we could find."

His hands fell, hitting the bartop with a smack. "And for what? It didn't even work. He should have been there. He was pretty good at coming back. Better at leaving, but…" He rapped his fingers against the table, though it looked like he wanted to smack them again. "Zack and Ma still talk about him like he was some great guy. I mean, sure, he helped Zack out a lot, but how can he be so good to strangers and so shitty to his own family?"

His restless hands found his glass again, and he silenced himself with a long drink. Elli couldn't think of what to say. She was tired of caring for anyone, but she still felt those pangs of empathy that left her aching to hurt again.

"I don't know. I guess he wasn't like that all the time. After Ma got sick, he did okay at first," Rick grumbled. "Playing like he was going to take care of everything. Took her to appointments, cooked her meals, worked the farm. But within a month, Ma was back to cooking, and within three, she was back at work. And then, well, you know the rest."

Elli moved her hand closer to his on the bar. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not! I'm angry! And that's what keeps me going! Rod couldn't take it, but I'm not like that! I will never be like that! And know what else? I've already lasted longer than he did." Rick brought his glass down hard. "So why can't Ma trust me enough to tell me anything?"

Elli's stomach knotted. So, Lillia hadn't talked to him yet. "It's not that she doesn't trust you, I'm sure. Sometimes, you just can't talk about things. You don't want to think about them."

"Elli—! No! You have to! But she won't. So here I am," he groaned, kicking himself back from the bar. "And I know she misses him, and I know she's getting sicker and sicker, but I can't—!" He threw up his arms and stared at the bar light hanging over his head. "But it's all bigger than me!"

Rick's eyes bored into hers for a split second before he averted his gaze. But what he said stirred something deep inside her, and Elli's knees loosened enough for her stool to teeter. With a hard-edged laugh, Rick pulled himself back to the bar and bent over his beer.

"Goddess, I'll shut up now. I hate it when people talk about all the crap that's happened to them as if it makes them special." He laughed unevenly. "We're 'sposed to be having a good time!"

Elli pressed her fingertips against her glass, wavering. She could let it all drop there, but he did say they should talk about things…

"No, I get it," she mumbled, her throat dry. "It's—well, it's miserable, watching someone you love in pain when it didn't have to turn out that way at all. If Grandma'd just—if I'd—"

A peal of laughter from the center of the bar made her flinch, and she shut herself up with a drink. She couldn't take it if Rick said what Trent couldn't voice. But Rick wasn't laughing at her or judging her—he was just listening.

He leaned closer. "What?"

Elli mirrored him, feeling the smooth bartop pressing against her forearms as it offered support. "I just—I feel like I'm spinning my wheels and just going through the motions to keep her…comfortable. I want so badly to make her better, but instead, she keeps getting worse." She paused, her mouth going dry as she worried what Rick would say. "It's crazymaking, not being able to fix what is wrong."

"Yes! That's exactly it!" he cried, and his boots drummed against the footrail. A warm tingling moved through Elli's body from her feet up. "You're right! You're always right." The excitement faded from his voice as he realized what this meant.

His somberness dulled the glow of validation. Elli slowly turned her glass as she tried to find the words for her feelings. "And it's like…like I don't want to try anymore."

Her body tensed as she waited for his outrage. It didn't come. She pressed her lips together and shook her head.

"Goddess, I build up just enough courage to say something and—" Her voice evaporated on a breath. "I don't know. I just don't wanna put any more stress on my family. So I just sometimes feel like—like—well, why can't I just let her live out her last years doing what she wants? As long as she's not hurting anyone else, what's wrong with it?"

"But it hurts you."

"So? I'm not even myself anyway—I belong to them! And I—!" Her ribs squeezed an unnaturally high laugh out of her. "Why does it seem like it takes more energy for me to care for someone I'm supposed to love than—than—?" The words stuck inside her until she was suddenly breathless. She tried to suck down the painful knot in her throat. "I mean, I do love her, with all my heart, but…but it's a struggle to like her lately. That's not how it should be. Good people don't think this way. And, Goddess, it's the same with Stu! I can't give either of them what they need. I can't be who they need!" Her chest hitched, and her voice rose to a child's whimper. "What would my parents think if they knew how much I was letting them down?"

"Hey, hey! You're not!"

Rick cupped her shoulder hard as Elli blinked back tears and nearly choked on her drink.

"You listen to me now. You're a good person. A good, beautiful person."

Elli couldn't look at him, couldn't believe what she was saying, couldn't believe what he was saying. She squeezed her eyes shut and let Rick carefully push her arm down until her glass clacked onto the bar top.

"I won't let you say those things," he promised, his voice thick.

She nodded and swiped at her eyes. Her entire body ached, but just telling someone the things that she could only think and rethink made her feel a little less desolate.

"Really, Elli, I wish I could do it like you."

Elli sniffed and laughed. "You do it better."

"What? No! You think I'm—?" He wet his lips as he struggled to find his words. "Shit, I say I can support Ma, but more often than not, she's the one I'm lashing out at. You've seen it!" They looked at one another with the pained mortification every caregiver knows. "Like a stupid, ungrateful kid. Can you believe I used to think I had to grow up too fast? I didn't do a very good job of it. But all the time, I feel like she doesn't even see how much she's hurting me and Popuri by trying not to! We deserve to know—I deserve to know. I sacrifice so much for the family, and she forgets that. But what am I gonna do? Remind her, so she can feel like even more of a burden? Never!"

His fingers tapped against his glass again then slowed.

"I guess I don't tell her things either. Hypocrite." He tsked. "But you can only bite back a dig or let comments go so many times before it builds and builds and…and you just snap." His arms hung limply at his side. "I think, I think if I just knew what was going on, I could be better for her. For everyone."

Elli reached out for his shoulder to ground him as he had done for her. "You're doing good! You're doing great! Honestly, I—"

"Will you tell me?"

His request blindsided Elli.

"What?"

"What's going on with her?" Rick pressed.

Her hand slipped down his arm. "…Are you kidding?"

"No."

Someone brushed past Elli on their way to the restrooms, and her legs tensed to keep her steady. The tight, stretched sensation spread through her entire body as she and Rick held each other's gaze, silent until they were alone again.

"You know," Rick said, his voice unusually flat.

"And you know I can't do that!"

"I need to know."

"I can't do that. My job—"

"But what about Ma? If there's something I could be doing—"

"I can't."

"Elli—"

"But—Don't—" She cut her eyes from Rick and sent them searching the room for the right words to make him understand, but they couldn't focus on anything except for what was right in front of her—him. Overwhelmed with the desire to retreat, she lost her balance and sent her barstool wobbling toward him. Rick caught her seat and held it steady.

"Please, Rick."

"I need your help," he pleaded. "You understand; I need to do something."

Elli's heart thudded, dull and strained, as the corners of the room spun slowly around her. He needed her. But it was wrong. Yet through the haziness in her mind, she remembered how she'd helped Lillia earlier, how she'd held her hand to lend her the strength Lillia needed to face her prognosis. Hadn't Elli wondered if Lillia would need her again when she told Rick? Elli could fix it for her, and for Rick, and for Popuri. They all needed her. But it was wrong.

But it was family.

Elli rubbed the pain in her chest away with one word: "Okay." And then she whispered her abbreviated version of all Trent had explained to Lillia that afternoon. With each detail he confronted, Rick's grip on her seat weakened. Afterward, Rick released it, and Elli's shoulder drove into his, but he hardly noticed. He stared down at his hands as he rubbed his thumb through the condensation on his glass. They sat together, waiting for the knowledge Elli divulged to change them and their circumstances, but it didn't.

Rick tilted his head back and emptied his glass.

"I'll figure something out," he determined after a hard swallow. "We'll fight our way out of this one—it's nothing we haven't done before in some way or another."

He made it sound so simple. Elli wished it was.

"What do we do?"

"We do what's needed," he answered immediately. "Without thinking, without hesitating, without knowing when we'll be done, we just do it. She shouldn't be working on the farm? Okay, she won't be." His jaw set around the decision he made for them. "Ma can run the store instead. Popuri will look after her in there and help her with the heavy lifting. I'll handle the farm myself. Even Rod did, for a while…" He pushed his shoulders back. "I just have to change things. I just have to do it."

Maybe it was the alcohol blurring her thoughts, but Elli thought she could change things too. She'd given up many of her goals to take care of her family; she couldn't let it all be a waste by giving up on them too. But for all she gave up, she still had a purpose, and now she felt it stronger than she had in months.

"I'll do it too," she vowed, feeling her pulse quicken throughout her. "I'll be better too. I'll be good to my family. Damn good!"

Rick chuckled at her swearing.

"No, I will! I'll get through to Grandma, and I'll be stricter with Stu, and I'll be better."

"Glad you're in this too," he encouraged with a chuckle.

Elli nodded sluggishly. "We both go together if one falls down."

The effects of their hasty drinks intensified throughout the night. Rather than hunching over the bar, the two leaned toward one another, whispering like kids under a shared blanket as time slipped by.

"You get it," Rick said. "You're the only one who gets it."

"What?" Elli asked, only to understand what he'd said a second later.

"I'm saying there's no one like you."

"Stop it," she scolded him, but she never wanted him to stop.

Rick groaned. "Me, I'm so full of shit."

"Don't you say that. You can't—you can't tell me to stop saying bad things, and then you go and do the same exact thing!"

"But with me, it's true! You know, I had this dream that night, the last time I saw you at the clinic, you know."

Something fluttered inside her. "You dreamed about me?"

"I wish. No, in the dream, I came home, and no one was there. And the house, it felt…different, but it was the same. Sorta like the feeling you get when you remember how a place looked the first time you ever saw it when it was still…unknown? Like that. Only, I've never seen my house new before—I've always known it. And everybody's things were there, so no one just packed up and left like Dad. But I knew right away the house was empty. And…I knew Ma was dead. I could feel it. She was dead, and I wasn't even there for it."

"I'm so sorry," Elli murmured. Rick hadn't even realized what he said. Grief flickered through Elli but only flickered. She ran her tongue along the smooth sores inside her cheek, marveling at how much the alcohol numbed.

Rick dragged his hand across his forehead, or did he shake his head against his hand? Elli couldn't tell.

"I woke up, scared out of my mind. Sweaty, shaking, tears. And then the worst guilt I've ever felt in my life."

"It was a dream," she reassured him, gently rubbing his back. "You couldn't do anything."

"I know. But…but before I felt all that, before I even woke up, I felt—" He shoved his hands under his glasses. "I felt relieved."

Elli's breathing sounded loud in her ears as her mind suddenly went clear, and goosebumps raised on her skin.

The clatter of Rick's glasses hitting the bar top broke the silence between them.

"What does that say about me?" he mumbled into his hands. "What kinda person dreams that? Feels that? She's not even—"

"I do."

"You…what?" He pulled his hands down until she could see his reddened eyes.

"Those dreams, the relief—I've had them too."

They gazed at one another, eyes blazing.

You're not the only one, they wordlessly said. I'm not the only one, they wordlessly realized.

"All it says is that we're tired," Elli swore. "That's it."

Rick nodded. "I really am…"

"And that's okay," she insisted, her features softening as she comforted herself by comforting him. "Our obligations to each other, well, they can really hurt and still be the right thing."

"I know," he repeated and looked at her, his brown eyes worn and wonderful. "But sometimes I just couldn't give a damn about what's right."

His words resonated through Elli, finding something she didn't know she had in herself. At that moment, she appreciated him and everything about him—he was there, he already knew how she felt before she said it, and he said the hardest things for her. In return, she wanted to feel all his pain for him, to take it all and give in to it. And if he already knew how she felt before she said it, did he feel this too?

Elli let her boots slip off the footrail, and she fell into Rick, resting her head against his shoulder. This time, she didn't pull away, and he didn't move away either. It made her dizzy, the relief of being able to finally put her weight on someone else.

Her cheek burrowed against his soft shirt, and she savored a deep breath. All of her senses were heightened, or were they dulled? It didn't matter. Instead, she slid her wrist down his arm, seeking his hand and entwining their fingers when she found it. It was rough, dry, and hot, but most of all, it was soothing.

They leaned against each other in comfortable silence. It wasn't until Ann snagged their glasses that Rick spoke.

"Shit, I've lost all track of time. It's getting late."

Rick untangled his fingers from Elli's, leaving her cold. "Lemme walk you home. You ready?"

She shook her head slowly, the movement building a dull pressure. She wasn't ready for anything other than to be somehow closer to Rick than she already felt. Her heart hammered inside her chest, and she longed to guide his hand so he could feel it and understand her again.

"Elli?"

She tilted her face up to his, leaving herself undefended.

"I don't want to go home," she murmured and laid a steady hand over his knee.

Rick glued his eyes to her hand, and the flush of pink darkened up his neck.

"Elli…"

Her hand trailed up an inch before Rick caught it in his and squeezed it firmly. "I think we're too drunk to know what we want."

"Not me." But she closed her eyes and nuzzled against his shirt. "I need you, even more than I want you." She sighed. "And I want you all the time."

Rick went quiet beside her as Elli let her mind take her where it wanted. It usually dragged her, bleary-eyed and burdened, toward the future. And who wanted to think of how Rick would slip on his glasses and walk her to the clinic without so much as a kiss? Thankfully, her mind settled lightly on the present, not yet ready to let the night end.

A/N: Elli's fantasy visit to the inn in a previous chapter was all about keeping things light (and heavy 😉) with Rick, but in reality, her visit's an emotional outpouring with a little handholding, and I think she needed that a little more. But don't worry, she'll get her fun soon too, haha! I'm no prude.

I usually shy away from characters just dumping all about their feelings because, let's be real, most people don't do that. But with Elli being a wreck and Rick being Rick, it just made sense. And while she and Rick avoided one mistake, they made another GIANT one. Elli messed up big time with some highly unethical behavior.

Time for a name meaning: Roderick "Rick" Charles Fallon! He's the only character I've given a middle name to, and it's for a reason, other than having his mom use it like he's a little kid back in Chapter 4, haha. He has the added insult of being named "Roderick" after his absentee father, who he is terrified of being like, and his last name, "Fallon" is a play on "fall on," as in:

1. responsibilities continue to "fall on" his shoulders,

2. he's someone for Elli to "fall back on,"

3. "fall on the enemy," meaning to suddenly and intensely attack, and

4. "fall on one's sword."

But in addition to that, the name meanings tell a little more about him. Roderick means "glory/ruler," "Charles" means "free man," and Fallon means "supremacy/leader." So, there we have it—a character whose freedom is trapped between his moral responsibilities as the head of his family. (Can you tell I love coming up with name meanings?)

Next week, Trent struggles between right and wrong as he makes an important decision. 😊