The Expansion of the Universe

Thirty-Eight | "Thank you."

It was obvious how much the possibility pained him, and she was, in some way, touched that he was willing to hurt himself for the sake of her mental health.

Even though he had scared her, and she never wanted to hear him yell or slam his hands against anything ever again, the thought of losing Elijah . . .

She didn't want to lose Elijah. He was her best friend. Her confidant. The man who had introduced other planets into her universe.

He was a pilot, though. And he had yelled.

But he was a human, just like she was, and she knew she couldn't dishonor his personality by placing him on a pedestal in her mind and refusing to allow for mistakes. Everyone made mistakes.

Liza knew that better than most.

"I don't want you to leave," she confessed, and he released a sigh of relief. She wasn't done, though. "But, well, you can't do that again, okay? I know I pushed, and I won't do that again, either—"

"You should be able to push," Elijah interrupted. "Babe, we're partners, you know? You should be able to push to get answers, especially when I've been closed off. I'm the asshole that blew up for no fuc—stupid, I mean—reason."

"No," she shook her head, understanding that she had pushed too far, especially considering that Elijah had clearly experienced something serious while visiting his parents. "No, I knew you were upset, but I still kept asking. When I tell you 'no,' you've always listened."

Elijah threw his head back, mumbling something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "damn, stubborn, beautiful woman," before her shifted to look at her once more. "Okay, doll, how's this: I'm sorry for being a total asshole. I really am. And, if I ever feel that pissed off again, I'll send you a text or tell you that I need a few minutes to go on a walk or something. I don't ever want to take anything out on you, do you understand? I've never been so upset with myself, Liza."

She dipped her head in a nod. "I forgive you," she told him honestly. Now that she was calm and her mind was no longer driven by panic and PTSD, she could see things more clearly. "I'll respect your boundaries next time. As long as you tell me you need some time, I'll give it to you, no questions asked. But, uh . . ." she didn't complete her sentence, unsure if she had the right to ask another thing of him.

Elijah quirked an eyebrow, taking a step closer before faltering and moving back to where he had been standing originally. "It's okay, doll. I want you to be honest with me. Please don't hesitate in being honest with me; I know I damaged your trust in me, and I hate myself for doing that, but I want you to know that you can always talk to me."

"You can always talk to me, too."

He sighed sadly, scrubbing a hand over his exhausted features. "I know I can, Liza. I'm sorry for that, too: That I made you feel like I don't want to talk about shit with you. I don't think I've been this pissed since when I found out about Morgan being my stepmother, and that's why I handled it so poorly."

"You won't yell again?"

A look of immense pain crossed his face, and his voice was soft when he spoke next. "No, sweetheart, I won't yell again. The look on your face . . . God, doll, I'm so sorry. I'm supposed to be a safe place, not a scary one."

"I don't like that you didn't tell me you were okay for two weeks," she blurted the thought that had been in the back of her mind. "It's okay if you don't want to talk, but it worried me a lot when I didn't hear from you for so long. If you could just send a message saying, 'I'm okay, but I don't want to talk,' that's fine." That seemed reasonable, right? She supposed it was a bit hypocritical for her to ask such a thing of him, considering how long she had gone without sending a single message to her own mother, but she was learning, and she had promised herself she wouldn't do that to her mom again.