I might have swooned so hard when he said that.
Okay, I’ll admit it, I did.
While Eli has opened up to me more and is laughing more often, sometimes he retreats inward to a place I can’t reach. I don’t know if it’s somewhere dark or deep; all I know is that whatever is bothering him is connected to him arranging objects and straightening things, often multiple times.
Every morning, I wake up to my clothes neatly folded, my toiletries lined up in the bathroom, and my boots and shoes are always paired together and lined up by the elevator.
I don’t think he does it from the need to be tidy; it’s something else: a habit, fixation, or obsession, because quite often, he folds and refolds towels several times before he’s satisfied.
What I have noticed is that once he has finished tasks like that, he appears calmer, almost Zen-like.
I have a feeling I know what it is, but I don’t want to ask. I’m waiting for him to tell me, to open up, I’m hoping he trusts me enough to.
To test my theory, I stopped by his office on Wednesday with his ridiculously long-winded coffee order and moved a few items on his desk. He didn’t say anything, but I could tell by the change in his demeanor—the tightening of his shoulders, the tension in his jaw, and his impatient tone—that he wasn’t happy. In silence, he put everything back where it had been, in perfectly straight lines.
I’m not a doctor, but I believe he has OCD, actually, I’m sure of it.
When he told me that his brain hasn’t been right since his dad was diagnosed with his illnesses, I think this is what Eli is getting help for from a therapist.
He’s struggling, and as a coping mechanism, he’s checking and double-checking things.
I want to support him and show him it’s okay to be vulnerable. I’m also afraid to ask him outright exactly what is wrong with him because I don’t want to offend him or push him away. That’s the last thing I want, especially since we’re only getting started.
He’s too good to lose, too good to let go of because he’s so right for me.
With every bone in my body, I feel it.
I trust that this weekend will open the door to whatever keeps him stuck. In fact, I pray that it does. I’ve shared a lot about myself. So far, Eli’s barriers have been impenetrable, and I still don’t know the real Eli. This weekend might either cause his walls to get even higher or blow them all apart so he can finally let me in. With more time, I believe he’ll eventually break them down. I just have to keep reminding myself that he’s very different from me, and that’s okay. I can wait. After all, we’ve only been dating for a week. It doesn’t matter that we’ve known each other for months because it feels like we’re just beginning. While Eli mulls over every decision he makes, I’m a spur-of-the-moment, change-of-plan kinda gal. I’m happy to give him space and tell me whatever issues he’s going through when the time is right, but how long is long?
Today, tomorrow, six months from now?
Patience, Sapphire. That’s what he requires. Patience. And he’ll tell you what exactly is wrong with him when he’s ready.
His saying yes to the retreat is a big step for him, and I appreciate him trying.
“Did things get sorted out with Max and Paige?” I ask, knowing very little about what happened after the wedding which caused Eli to stare out into the night from his balcony for more hours than he slept the other night.
“Max has been suspended. For a month.”
“Why?” He must have done something serious for his brothers to suspend him.
Eli concentrates on the road ahead, driving around the tight corners of a dusty road, now only a few minutes away from the retreat. “You have to promise me you won’t say anything to anyone. It’s highly confidential.” He drums his fingers against the top of the steering wheel, his words clipped and firm, the air around us changing as his mood drops.
“You have my word.” I would never divulge; I protect my business at all costs. I sign confidentiality agreements for a reason.
Him sharing this with me is a big deal; maybe this is the start of him opening up about other things too.
Eli then shares what has been bothering him this past week, explaining that Max and Paige had been meeting secretly while representing a couple going through a divorce. With Max supporting the wife and Paige supporting the husband from an opposing firm, it has caused a lot of complicated paperwork and investigations, pulling him and Cole from the daily work they should have been doing this week while Nathan is on his babymoon with Arianna.
It took a couple of days, but Eli and Cole have it all under control. I just hope everything works out for everyone, because Max and Paige seemed madly in love at the wedding and couldn’t keep their hands off each other; however, according to Eli, they haven’t spoken since Monday, and Paige is refusing to speak to Max.
My mom always told me to never go to bed angry and to always kiss goodnight, no matter what, because you never know what could happen in the night. It’s something I will always live by. I hate arguing anyway; well, only when I know I’m right.
“This is the place.” I point to the sign with the words “Rooted in Trust” emblazoned in big gold and green letters, peeking out between the trees surrounding it.
Eli takes a left turn onto a dirt track, making us bounce this way and that, with Eli’s car suspension brutal and unforgiving on the uneven road.
“Your car is a bone shaker.”