CHAPTER 7 : The Wait - Elliot’s Torment
1333 Words
==Elliot==
I didn’t even make it out of the parking lot before I had to adjust myself.
Three days.
She said it like it was nothing. Like it was just a number. Like I could walk away from her, get in my car, and go back to my normal life.
Normal.
Right.
My hands weren’t steady on the wheel when I started the engine. I flexed my fingers, tried to get a grip, but it didn’t help much.
Three days.
Seventy-two hours.
Too long.
Way too long.
I let out a breath and leaned back against the seat for a second, closing my eyes.
I could still feel her hand.
Not even where I wanted it, just my thigh. Barely anything. And still…
I swore under my breath and shifted again.
This was ridiculous.
I was thirty years old. I handled equations that made other people’s heads spin. I worked through problems that took weeks to solve.
And right now?
I couldn’t even sit still because a woman had touched me and then stopped.
The drive home was worse.
Every little movement, every turn, every bump dragged my attention straight back to my body. To the tension that wouldn’t go away. To the way everything felt too tight, too aware.
By the time I pulled into my building, I was gripping the wheel harder than necessary.
“Get it together,” I muttered.
Didn’t work.
I got upstairs somehow. Don’t remember the elevator. Don’t remember unlocking the door.
Just the quiet of my apartment hitting me all at once.
Still.
Empty.
And way too loud inside my head.
I dropped my keys on the counter and caught my reflection in the hallway mirror.
I looked… off.
Flushed. Eyes a little wild. Like I hadn’t slept in days.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “That tracks.”
My phone buzzed.
I grabbed it, grateful for the distraction.
Adrian.
Where’d you go? You bailed on the colloquium.
Right.
That.
I scrubbed a hand down my face.
Something came up. I’ll explain later.
I stared at the message after sending it.
I wasn’t explaining anything.
There was no version of that conversation that didn’t sound insane.
Another buzz.
Different number.
I frowned, then opened it.
Don’t forget. Three days.
Saturday. 8pm.
-D
That was it.
No buildup. No softening.
Just a time.
A place.
And her.
Something in my chest tightened.
This was real.
Not hypothetical. Not some weird, fleeting moment.
It was happening.
I exhaled slowly and leaned back against the wall.
“Three days,” I said under my breath.
My body didn’t care about logic.
Didn’t care about time or restraint or patience.
It reacted.
Immediate. Sharp.
I shut my eyes briefly.
This was going to be a problem.
***
Day One
Work was useless.
I opened my laptop. I closed it. I opened it again.
I tried to focus on a problem I’d been working on all week, but the symbols blurred together after a few seconds.
My brain just… wouldn’t stay where I put it.
It kept drifting.
Back to her.
Back to Saturday.
Back to the way she’d looked at me like she already knew exactly what I was thinking.
I exhaled and leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling.
“This is stupid,” I muttered.
It didn’t stop anything.
I grabbed my phone, hesitated for a second, then opened a browser.
If I was going to do this…
I needed to not completely embarrass myself.
The search bar blinked at me.
I typed, deleted, then typed again.
Advice. Articles. Too many opinions.
Conflicting, half of them.
Be confident.
Ask questions.
Take control.
Don’t take control.
I huffed out a breath.
“Helpful,” I said flatly.
Still, I clicked through a few.
Read more than I expected to.
Not just techniques, things about paying attention, about slowing down, about actually noticing the other person instead of rushing.
That part stuck.
Because it sounded like her.
I shut my eyes briefly.
“Pay attention.”
Her voice slipped back into my head so easily it almost felt real.
I dragged a hand over my face.
This was getting out of hand.
I pushed back from the desk, stood up, paced once across the room.
Didn’t help.
Nothing helped.
Every quiet moment just made it worse.
***
Day Two
Adrian caught on faster than I expected.
“You’re distracted,” he said, not even looking up from his work.
“I’m working,” I shot back.
“You’re staring at the same line for ten minutes.”
I glanced down.
He wasn’t wrong.
I exhaled slowly. “It’s nothing.”
He finally looked at me. Studied me for a second.
“Not nothing.”
I hesitated.
Then, before I could stop myself…
“I met someone.”
That got his attention.
“Seriously?” He straightened. “And you’re just saying this now?”
“It’s not…” I cut myself off. “It’s complicated.”
“It’s always complicated when you say that.”
I rubbed the back of my neck.
“She’s… different.”
“Different how?”
I hesitated again.
“Just different.”
He stared at me for a second longer, then snorted.
“Okay. That’s helpful.”
“It’s not something I can explain easily.”
“Try.”
I opened my mouth.
Closed it again.
Yeah. No.
“Later,” I said finally.
He shook his head, amused. “You’re doomed.”
“Probably.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
I thought about her.
The way she’d looked at me.
The way she’d stepped back when I wanted her closer.
“...I don’t know yet.”
***
That night was worse.
Too quiet.
Too much time to think.
I lay on my back staring at the ceiling, one arm behind my head, trying to convince myself to sleep.
Didn’t happen.
Every time I closed my eyes, she was there.
Not even doing anything.
Just there.
Watching.
Waiting.
Like she already knew I wouldn’t last the three days without thinking about her.
I turned onto my side with a frustrated breath.
“This is ridiculous.”
Still didn’t stop.
My body was already reacting again, like it hadn’t gotten the message that this wasn’t convenient.
I let out a low breath and dragged a hand over my face.
“Three days,” I muttered.
It felt longer now.
Slower.
Like time had stretched just to make this worse.
Night Before
Sleep wasn’t happening.
I checked the time.
11:42 PM.
Then again.
12:17.
Then 1:03.
Every minute felt heavier.
By the time I sat up, I was already wide awake, restless energy crawling under my skin.
I swung my legs off the bed and stood there for a second, staring at nothing.
Tomorrow.
In less than a day, I’d be standing in front of her again.
Not guessing.
Not imagining.
Actually there.
The thought hit harder than expected.
Not just anticipation…
Nerves.
Sharp, real nerves.
I dragged a hand through my hair and paced once across the room.
“What if you mess this up?” I muttered.
The question stuck.
Because it wasn’t just about inexperience anymore.
It was her.
The way she carried herself. The way she watched me like she was already three steps ahead.
I exhaled slowly.
“Then you learn,” I said quietly.
That’s what she’d told me.
Learn.
Not perform.
Not to prove anything.
Just…
Show up.
Still, my pulse kicked up just thinking about it.
I stopped pacing and leaned back against the wall.
Tomorrow.
Everything changes tomorrow.
The thought settled in my chest, heavy and undeniable.
This wasn’t just curiosity anymore.
It wasn't just physical.
It had gone past
that somewhere along the way.
I scrubbed a hand over my face and let out a breath.
“Yeah,” I muttered.
No point pretending otherwise.
I was already in too deep.
And tomorrow…
Tomorrow, there was no turning back.
- Writer
