Elle stared at the dividing wall, unable to concentrate on the task at hand: Jared and Tess's wedding album. Every time she sat there trying to get some work done, she couldn't help but think about Dean, about why he wasn't replying to any of her messages or returning her calls.
It was past midday, and she had barely touched the photos. The silence of the office annoyed her. Usually Bonnie would have the radio on out the front. Since their return from Sydney, it had been awkward between the two. Bonnie was now off for a week, and so Elle found herself completely and utterly left alone with her thoughts.
She rose from her seat, grabbed her keys and locked up the office with a 'Be Back Soon' sign rashly written on paper and tacked up on the door. She didn't know what she was doing, but getting away from her loneliness and a broken heart sounded like a fantastic idea. Wally waved at her from across the diner and she waved back as she started walking down the street.
She obsessed over the moment she let Dean drive off a fortnight ago. She had now resorted to calling him if only to hear his voice in the voicemail. Creepy, she knew, but she missed him more than she thought possible. She kept walking, trying not to think about the empty driveway at Harry's. She'd hurt him, and she had little right to expect him back at the drop of a hat.
She continued walking down the road till her mind went blank and the ache in her heart travelled somewhere near her feet. Then she turned around and started back. Sweat sleeking her t-shirt, the sun blaring down on her.
It was almost five in the evening when she walked past Connie and Cal's and saw Wally wave her way once again. She waved back before slipping into her empty office.
The door behind her opened and in walked Wally. "Someone came looking for you and left this." He handed a piece of paper to Elle. "You okay?" Elle nodded and dropped on the sofa. "You look sad, and he looked sad."
"Who?" she asked, desperately hoping it was Dean.
Wally looked at the note. "I don't know his name."
"Thank you, Wally."
"Wear sunscreen next time. You're getting burnt out there." He nodded, stepping out the door. "Goodnight, Ellie."
Elle waited till the door closed firmly behind Wally before she unfolded the paper and glanced at it in the dying daylight, immediately spotting the name Lachlan at the bottom. Her heart sank and with it, the chances that Dean had found his way back to Armidale.
The handwriting was messy, and Elle struggled to read. She read and re-read the note, utterly amazed that Lachlan was going to propose to Bonnie and soon. He wanted Elle to help choose an engagement ring.
Elle felt a stab of jealousy, and anger coursed through her, and for a brief moment, pure hate for Bonnie. There she was, trying to start a relationship and miserably failing, while Bonnie was about to be proposed to by a totally smitten man who, despite knowing about her flaws, thought it was the best thing for them.
Unexpectedly, her job felt like a curse. Was she now going to cover a wedding she knew was doomed to begin with? Elle looked out onto the darkening street, to Connie and Cal's and the town suddenly had no meaning. And just as easily as she'd settled there, she decided it was no longer home. She'd lost a lot of dreams, perhaps dreams she had no right to. She picked up her phone and dialled home.
"It's me."
"We were thinking you forgot us," her dad joked.
"I want to come home, dad."
"No one is stopping you."
"I don't mean visit, dad."
There was a slight pause. "You and Maya okay?"
"We're fine. I just think we should move back home."
"Is this about Dean? Chloe told us what happened."
"Does it matter? I'm alone. I've ruined what probably could have been, and frankly, I don't feel like being alone and miserable all my life. I thought you'd be happy."
"I'd be happy if you stopped running and started chasing your dreams. A man shouldn't have to do all the chasing all the time, so you know."
"What if it's too late?"
"Take the chance anyway. You can't lose what you have already lost if that's the case, but you have everything to gain."
Elle's mind hummed the entire evening, through frozen dinner, through Maya's bath and bedtime. What could she say to Dean? She wandered into her bathroom just before nine, completely exhausted. Dean was still on her mind. She wanted him in her life. After hours and days of thinking, that was the one thing she was dead sure of.
Instead of slipping into bed and wonder about what-ifs like she'd done the past weeks, she about turned on her heels and bee-lined for the phone. She knew what she needed to do. She just had a few things to figure out before she could do what needed doing, and that was to fly to Paris, the city of love, and beg the man she loved to take her back.
Hanging up the phone, Elle grabbed a bottle of wine from the kitchen and the biggest stemware she could find, the ugly taloned goblet, and marched into the lounge room, turned on her laptop and poured herself a full goblet. She Googled 'return flights to Paris' and downed the glass of Moscato before her options had even lit up the page.
She clicked on the first option and read the page briefly. She'd already decided, and as her father had said, it was about time she stopped running.
"This is it, Elle, last chance to change your mind." Her mouse hovered over the 'buy' tab. "One last chance." A chance I have to take. She poured another goblet of wine and drank it thirstily as she clicked her way through to proceeding with her purchase.
Within the hour, the soft knock came on her door. It was almost eleven at night. She opened the door to see her father and mother standing there, with a hint of a smile on their tired faces.
"Thank you so much for this."
Her mother squeezed her hard, as if saying goodbye for an unforetold time. "Call us as soon as you land."
Elle nodded vigorously. She was feeling her nerves despite the half bottle of wine she'd downed in order to keep calm. She had thought of the possibility that she may return empty-handed. The thought had crossed her mind several times, in fact.
"Come on, before you miss your connecting flight," Bert urged, taking the cabin bag off Elle's hand.
"Tell Maya I'll only be gone a couple of days."
"Don't you worry about her." Her mother literally pushed her out the door before she could change her mind and loiter.
Elle sat on the aisle seat, unable to calm her jumpy nerves as people boarded the flight. Hurry up, hurry up. She demanded as passengers calmly put their bags in the overhead compartment, or slid their papers into deep pockets before sitting down.
A round woman in her late 50s hovered over Elle with a wide smile. "That'll be me." She pointed to the middle seat and squeezed in past Elle. "It's our first time going overseas," she said, all smiles to Elle as a balding man excused himself past her after his wife. "How about you?"
Elle smiled nervously. "First time flying, actually. Well, my second flight tonight."
The woman nodded as the plane taxied. "Here we go. You can squeeze my hand if you need."
"Thank you." Elle smiled, bracing herself and frantically chewing the gum in her mouth, afraid of the cabin pressure and the imminent earache that came with it.
She stared out the small window into the rainy Sydney tarmac. By the time the wheels left the ground, Elle was ready to pass out from exhaustion. The food tasted bland, and she wasn't much in the mood to eat. She ordered more juice than she knew what to do with and frequently locked herself in the tiny lavatory, feeling sick. Once back in her seat, she called for help.
"Do you have any motion sickness medicine?" she asked.
The woman smiled. "I'll see if we have anything to help you." And she walked away.
Elle felt an elbow to her arm. "You got a fellow?" The lady smiled.
"Kind of," Elle replied. I'll know when I land.
A pocket of turbulence sent her grabbing the sidearm and feeling nauseous again. "Maybe you're pregnant," the woman's voice drowned as Elle focused on breathing deep to keep from retching right there on the aisle. As soon as the turbulence stopped, Elle ran for the lavatory. It wouldn't do if she turned up at his hotel half dead. She reached into her handbag and brought out a couple of sleeping pills. She needed sleep.
Elle sat on a decorative Victorian-style sofa in the richly decorated foyer of the Ritz Paris, waiting. She had arrived during the late afternoon and Dean wasn't in. She was glad that Peter had known which hotel Dean was staying at. All she had to do now was wait.
In waiting for Dean, she constantly hovered over toilets in the pristine bathroom until nausea passed while she read IVF posters on the back of the door, forcing her to think, what if. What if there was the slight possibility that she wasn't just nauseous because of her nerves? Since she didn't know when Dean was due back, she walked over to the concierge with trepidation.
"Excuse me, is there a convenience store around here?"
Elle walked back into the hotel and headed straight for the foyer bathroom. She couldn't possibly be pregnant. She couldn't. They'd barely done it enough times. When she had tried falling pregnant with Maya, it had taken months. Elle listened to the calming classical music playing over the speakers as she waited for the minutes. What if she was? What was she going to say to Dean? How would he take it? She looked at her watch. It was almost 7 pm. Exhausted and sleep-deprived, she leaned on her palms, dozing off only to wake up with a jolt of her head as it slipped. She looked at her watch again, and it was 7:15 pm. She grabbed the test stick with a thundering heart and turned the test window to face her.
When Elle eventually dragged herself and her bag out of the bathroom a couple of minutes later, the concierge attendant came shuffling over to her. "Excuse, mademoiselle." Elle halted, her heart racing. "Mr Stewart." The staff pointed towards the restaurant. "We booked him in for dinner at the restaurant at 7:30. Perhaps you'd like to wait for him at his table, mademoiselle?"
Elle nodded. She was starving. "That would be nice. Thank you."
"Right this way." They directed her towards the restaurant and to a table next to a cozy wall. Dean would arrive shortly and Elle couldn't tell whether she was nervous about seeing him after all this time, or the news she may or may not have.
Jittering with nerves that refused to settle, she sat down and poured herself water, sipping it for want of something to do.
"Elle?"
She looked up, spluttering water all over the front of her shirt, and there he was, dressed like a perfect gentleman, in a beautiful blue suit, white shirt, and tie. "What are you doing in Paris?" His eyes narrowed.
"I needed to see you."
"I haven't heard from you since." She saw the confusion on his face. "Maybe I shouldn't have come like this..." she muttered, getting up and reaching for her cabin bag.
"Have you been waiting long?" He caught her arm and pulled her back, pulling a chair out for her so she would sit. He sat opposite and stared.
"You're not mad?"
"Mad that you flew all this way to see me?"
Elle couldn't help but laugh. "It was on a whim. I didn't even say goodbye to Maya. Just did it before I could convince myself otherwise."
"You changed your mind, then?"
She nodded, nervous as anything. "We need to talk."
He leaned forward, a big smile on his handsome face. "I'm really glad you're here."
"I..." Her breath caught in her throat.
"Yes." Dean reached for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
"You make me happy," she whispered, unable to take her eyes off his face. "You do. And if I haven't already ruined it, I'd ask you to give me a second chance."
"And that's what made you this pale?" He leaned over the table to kiss her. "I missed you."
"Ready to order, monsieur?" A waiter cleared his throat as they parted.
"Couple of minutes." He held up the menu and made a show of opening it. The waiter smiled and walked away.
Dean put down the menu and settled back into his chair, mesmerized. "I still can't believe you're here." Elle gave him a fleeting smile. "So, what do you want to talk about?" He reached over for the water and poured some into both their glasses.
Elle waited until he drank his water, and the glass was back on the table. She was buying time. Her mouth dried up, her heartbeats bubbled underneath her skin, and she could feel herself break out into a sweat.
"Elle."
She nodded briskly, wiping her palms on her jeans for good measure. "I might be pregnant?" She managed, though barely.
"You might be what?"
"I mean, I'm not expecting anything from you. It's just... if that is the case, I thought you'd like to know. I'm freaking out too."
Dean shook his head, watching the waiter make his way over. "Ready?" He glanced at Elle and stood, grabbed her by her arm, and led her out of the restaurant without a word.
"Dean."
But he couldn't and wouldn't stop. He walked them over to the elevator and bundled Elle and her belonging in. In the elevator, all Elle could do was stare at him. She wanted to read his mind. If only she could.
"Did you hear what I said?" she asked, mustering up the courage, unable to tell how he was feeling.
He stepped out of the elevator with a nod of his head. The hand on the small of her back led her down the corridor to his room. "Yeah. I might be a dad." He stopped and smiled, a smile she couldn't describe as anything other than pure joy. He dropped her bag to the floor and wrapped his arms around her.
He kissed her, his lips still on hers. "What do you say we get hitched, Ms Grace?"
Elle giggled in his arms. They were in the middle of a hotel corridor, wrapped around one another. She was exhausted and smelly from her horrendous flight and, despite everything, Dean was asking her to marry him.
"Stop joking," she mumbled back. "I come with baggage."
"I think I can carry your baggage. I especially like the little one. She's cute," he said playfully between kisses. She laughed as he scooped her up in his arms and carried her bag along down the corridor. "You hungry?"
"I'm starving."