He Chose Her Over Me So I Chose Myself Chapter 17
Eli’s brother set up the ladder and hung a new glass wind chime by the window.
Eli gently flicked the metal pieces. Blue-green glass knocked softly together, clear and bright.
“This one’s a darker color. Is the light transmission going to be too low?”
“It’s not the color.” I pointed. “The cutting angle is off by two degrees. That’s why the light pools at the edge.”
Eli nodded and took the note seriously.
Grant stood outside the door holding the file, trying several times to speak, but there was no place for him to break into our conversation.
I was bent over, adjusting the wind chime, when Eli suddenly raised a hand and brushed a streak of glass dust from my cheek with his fingertips.
“Here.”
The gesture was as natural as if he had done it a hundred times before.
The composure on Grant’s face finally broke. He tightened his grip on the papers and turned away.
But in the days that followed, he kept coming back.
Sometimes he brought jewelry. Sometimes expensive collectible glass. Sometimes he brought nothing at all—he would just park at the mouth of the alley and stare at the studio through his car window.
A courier passed on his message: “Mr. Hale says he chose this especially for you.”
I returned every package unopened.
“And tell him this from me,” I said. “It’s too late.”
On the fourth evening, Grant finally got out of the car and blocked my door.
“Do you really like Eli?”
I didn’t answer.
His eyes were bloodshot, his voice tight. “June, you loved me for so many years. How could you let go just like that? How long have you even known him?”
I paused in the act of locking up and looked at him.
“Just like that?”
Grant’s breathing caught.
I asked calmly, “So you knew I loved you for years?”
His expression froze.