Eleanor sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping as if in defeat. She should have expected this, should have been more precise. “I’m not ill,” she said quietly. “Nothing happened. You didn’t miss anything.”
She looked down to where his hand had just brushed hers, torn between urges to pull away and reach out to touch him again. “Staying behind as your assistant was…” she shrugged. “A nuisance. An annoyance, to be honest. It was a task that needed to be done. Being left behind as your girlfriend and knowing the messes I’ve dealt with as your assistant?” Looking up, she met his gaze. He had such beautiful blue eyes and she didn’t like the way they looked right now. “That hurt. Not knowing where you were, worrying about how you were taking care of yourself… that’s hard, but the worst part of it all, was feeling so stupid for not having thought that this would happen. For actually being hurt by something you’ve always done. For thinking that maybe, just… maybe, I meant enough for you to leave a note. But that’s not you, that’s me. I just…”
With a sigh, she ran her fingers through her hair. There were so many things running through her mind, so many things she wanted to say to him, questions she wanted answered, but she didn’t know how. And was now really the right time to do so? “You’re drunk,” she sighed and turned around resuming her slow walk towards The Quatre.