He missed his glory days.
Everything felt right when he was younger. Academically gifted, athletic and everybody swooned over him. Everything was right when he was younger.
And now his stomach churned and bad thought's bit at his brain until he found something to distract himself.
Like work.
He would work, work, work until all the bad thoughts went away. Reason being, he should have never had them. He should be ashamed of having them.
His job earns him a buttload of money, and with that money, he could keep his wife quiet for some time. His wife... and again, he starts having bad thoughts.
"Elliot?" And just as he wished them away, more unpleasant thoughts followed at the sound of a voice so soft it would fit a royal princess.
He glanced up. She is staring at him, questioningly, and with a slightly worried look on her, something he couldn't get from his wife anymore. Two folders with stacks of paperclipped worksheets were balanced in her arms. Elliot just realized how quickly he had blanked out.
"My bad," he cheekily responds, "I almost didn't see you there Grace." The answer was automatic. From the look on her face he already knows what she was about to ask, 'What's wrong Eliot?'
He didn't have an answer, he didn't know what was so wrong with him these past few days and that all brought a sense of dread to him. He sees the way she sucks in her bottom lip and he can't help but look away shamefully. He doesn't mean to worry her.
"Well," she continues. "You're about to miss the train for your work."
He nods and stands up from the bench he was sitting on, reaching for his suitcase on the ground beside him. She stands to walk in the opposite direction, they are at a terminal, a terminal where cars are dropped off before one makes their way to work in the inner city.
Elliot saw Grace wobble as she got up. He places a hand on her back to steady her.
Wrong move.
He walks her to the exit as his train's door's are still only opening. She watches him as he straightens his clothes. When he finishes, they look at each other expectantly.
Another wrong move.
"Good luck."
"Thanks."
"Take care."
"I will."
He should have left by now, but instead he is waiting for this woman to speak to him with a more intimate tone.
Yet again, a wrong move.
"And say 'hi' to Sophie and Corbin for me." She adds while raising her hand in a wave.
His hand raises too. "I will."
With that, he turns around and heads to his train cart.
Elliot Hayes does not know what is so wrong with his life.
With his wife.
With his kid.
Or his thoughts.
He clenches his fists.
'It's all wrong.'
One day he is out to buy groceries and pick up a gift for his son Corbin, the kid won some spelling bee or something, he can't remember, his wife told him to pick up a gift for him. The brat seemed to have picked up on his academic gene. That's good.
Bread. Milk. Eggs. Cheese. Butter. Jam. Bagels.
He never really ate bagels when he was growing up. Not that his mom couldn't afford them, they were always in the house, but it was something he had only seen her eat. What an adult ate.
He never thought he would be eating bagels for breakfast, but he does. Bagels with cream cheese and coffee. It makes him feel like an adult, eating real breakfast instead of satiating his sweet tooth, and changing his underwear every day.
Having a wife can change your lifestyle, he supposes.
Not oblivious to the glances and some giggles surrounding him, he pays the grocer and heads home. He's not keen on being out in the public anymore, he doesn't know when that started.
He remembers he used to love being out of his house all the time. He couldn't wait for a new day to come to leave and explore with his friends, when he dreamed with those friends and everyone helped each other accomplish them, or at least the little goal they all had.
With that thought, he thinks of a girl he hasn't seen in a long while and idly wonders what she is up to. Wonder if she had ever accomplished whatever it was she had set up to do. He doesn't know. He doesn't think much of it. Besides, he thinks more inward, if he ever wants to see her again, then he knows where to find her, she'll always be there.
He is walking to his car which he ended up much further away from than he thought, he cuts through a small playground to save time. It was at that moment deep brown eyes were scanning the periphery and he caught the sight of something that made him freeze.
It was her again.
She was here.
Sitting on a bench.
Elliot stares and stares, trying to remember when she had decided to let her hair grow out again, it looked like it did when they were in high school. He almost hadn't recognized her. He lies. He wouldn't ever forget her, especially those eyes, a colour he hadn't seen in anyone else before, a pale and iridescent gray, they reminded him of the moon.
When he snaps back to his senses, he starts to wonder what she may be doing here.
She's alone, a hand folded under her thigh as if protecting it from the cold, and her other hand fisted under her chin. She looks thoughtful, lost in her own mind. He can tell by the bouncing of her knee that she is uneasy. Or perhaps Nervous.
'What's wrong?' He wanted to ask her.
He spent a long minute thinking, and just as he decides to go and check on her, his question is answered.
His perfect view of Grace is blocked by the back of a man who is leaning towards her, stooping to her eye level. Quickly, she stands, hands coming to her sides and clutching at the fabric of her skirt. They stare at each other for a few seconds, speaking quietly to each other.
Elliot watches carefully, wondering if he should intervene. Clearly, this man is making her uncomfortable. Mind made up, he moves to step forward just as the two move to step away. Together. Side-by-side.
They walk slowly, further and further away from him, and he can see the backs of their heads tilt towards each other. He says something to her. She smiles. Elliot can tell because she has looked away.
He stands there and stares, even when they are no longer in view. He's not sure how long exactly, only that by the time he has gotten home, the milk is warm.