He Chose Her Over Me So I Chose Myself Chapter 22
Late that night, the studio’s heat began to fade.
Eli took his coat off the rack, came over, and draped it around my shoulders, adjusting the collar for me.
“You okay?”
He didn’t ask what had been said on the phone, and he didn’t urge me to forgive anyone. He only stood beside me and left the choice of whether to speak entirely up to me.
I leaned against his shoulder and listened to his steady breathing.
“I’m good.”
This time it wasn’t bravado.
I didn’t have to rush back to Boston to soothe my adoptive mother’s tears or endure my adoptive father’s accusations. I didn’t have to feel guilty for hanging up.
I really was okay.
As we got ready to turn off the lights, I noticed an extra piece of glass in the corner of the workbench.
It was a cobalt blue so deep it was almost the color of night, but its edges held a bright, clean glow. I lifted it toward the lamp, and blue light flooded my palm.
“When did you put this here?”
“This afternoon.” Eli smiled a little. “I passed a flea market, saw it, and thought you’d like it.”
It wasn’t the first piece.
Amber. Moss green. Rose red. A gray-white like morning mist. Almost every week, Eli brought back a different shard of glass in a different color.