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“No, Nick. We need to talk, now.”
“Ellie, really? Right now?”
“Yes, right now. I can’t keep doing this- this thing. I’m not ashamed of us. I want to tell people about us. We could have a chance.”
“I want to, too El. Really I do, but—“
“But, no. I love you, Nick. That won’t change if people know about us. Don’t you love me?”
“Ellie, you know that answer. It’s just—“
“No, I’m done. Either tell people about us, or we’re done, Nick. I can’t take this anymore.”
“Ellie, I- I-... I can’t.”
“Well then...I can’t. I hope you find someone who can, Nick. I hope you’re happy.”
That was a month ago. And on the outside, you’d never know Ellie still replayed that argument almost daily in her head. Every time she accidentally locked eyes with Nick, she thought of it. Every time she walked into Kasie’s lab, she thought of it. Every time she entered her bedroom, she thought of it. Every where she went, she thought of it.
But...Ellie’d kept her cool then, and she’d keep her cool now. No one would know just how badly it hurt her. Mark her words, she refused to cry over someone who wouldn’t cry over her.
Yeah, and you look so happy walking down the street
Don't you, baby? (don't you, baby?)
Did you forget? You said that in this lifetime
You can never get over me
Are you over me? (uh)
She was right too, if the parade of girls Nick brought around here were any indication. Nick listened—she told him to find someone who could make him happy—he did. Three days later.
The first one to meet him for lunch was a slap to the face, a bucket of ice-cold water dumped over her head. In seconds, she composed herself, but the heat to fight the girl pulsed through Ellie. She’d seen him from across the main lawn walking down the street hand in hand with the new girl of the week and a carnal sense of possessiveness had threatened to break out.
Until she realized Nick was over her. Too bad he’d once said he would never get over Ellie, “not in this lifetime,” she believed were his words, she thought wryly.
When I said I hope you're happy, didn't mean it
Never thought you'd be so good at moving on
When I'm lying wide awake, you're probably sleeping
And maybe what I'm thinking is wrong
She recalled her parting words to him, “I hope you’re happy.” Words said with a bitter taste in her mouth, said sarcastically to camouflage her pain. Truthfully, she had believed Nick was as invested—as in love—as she was. Never in a million years had Ellie imagined he would move on so quickly. And on, and on, and on.
That first month dragged by and while she was up every night tossing and turning, she knew he was sound asleep in the arms of another girl. Another girl, who he clearly had no issue going public with.
That thought stopped her cold. She realized she had two options: wallow in her heartbreak, or come out the winner—stronger, unaffected, moved on. She jumped off the couch out of her blanket cocoon, spilling her hot cocoa everywhere, yet she couldn’t find it in her to care. She knew the perfect outlet—something that would serve as the perfect punching bag for her emotions AND make her stronger in the end—a skill honed from years of having three older brothers.
I want you to cry for me, cry for me
Say you'd d-d-die for me, die for me
And if you can't, then baby, lie for me, lie for me (huh)
'Cause you haunt me when I'm dreamin'
And it's time you know the feeling
So cry for me
Rolling out of bed at three in the morning that Monday, she was ready. She may have only gotten a few hours of sleep that weekend...but she was ready. Pulling on her gym shoes, new leggings and top, she grabbed her go bag and headed into the Navy Yard. Nick would be a distant memory when she was done.
At one time, Ellie might have said she wanted to Nick to cry for her. But that wasn’t happening. And if he wouldn’t cry, there was no way in hell she’d be crying either. She’d held it together for an entire month. A month of seeing him avoid eye contact with her from across the bullpen. A month of silent car rides to crime scenes or interviewing witnesses. A month of tolerating awkward drinks out with the team when all she wanted to do was go home. A month of pretending nothing happened.
And it had been working, but she was close to snapping. One more girl waltzed through the squad room, and she would not be accountable for her actions.
So she was taking up boxing. Nick said he would die for her, must have been pillow talk. Nick didn’t need to die for her anymore, no, she’d take care of her damn self.
Throwing her go bag in the corner of the deserted old gym and shoving her air pods in, she laced on the small gloves she borrowed from her brothers. They tried to ask questions, she deflected them easily— hah, something useful she gained from Nick.
See that pretty life in pictures (ha)
See your lips erasing me (ooh)
You're so good to her, it's vicious
Yeah, she should be thanking me
Oh, who's gonna touch you like me?
Yeah, tell me, who?
Who can make you forget about me?
Ever since Kasie introduced her to Camila, she was obsessed. She picked one that stood out to her, “Cry for Me,” and put it on repeat.
Rolling her head around her shoulders, she shook her arms out. A quick couple stretches to get loose, she tried to focus. Her mind scrolled through Nick’s flavor of the week like a picture album. The central theme was long-legged, tanned, brunettes with dark mysterious eyes. The exact opposite of her.
Coincidence? Rule 39.
Sporadically snapshots of their short-lived, lust-filled relationship snuck their way in. Surely those women couldn’t satisfy him like she did; surely they wouldn’t make him forget about her.
But wait. They did. Guess they should thank her for making it easy, she thought cynically.
Focus.
Channeling her emotional energy, she took several deep breaths and lined up to the speed bag. Her thoughts flashed to his lips on her skin, erasing every worry. Erasing every insecurity she’d ever felt after Jake. In the same breath, she remembered the humiliation washing over her at his words, I can’t. Her face turned deadly, and she started the rhythmic motion of hitting the speed bag, keeping in time with the beat of the song. It pulsed through her, driving her, erasing all thoughts of Nick’s lips.
When I said I hope you're happy, didn't mean it
Never thought you'd be so good at moving on (on, on)
When I'm lying wide awake, you're probably sleeping (sleeping)
And maybe what I'm thinking is wrong
She’d kept this routine up for a few weeks now. It was soothing, therapeutic even. The rhythm of the speed bag eased her racing mind. She was done lying wide awake, staring at the ceiling, playing back the highlight reel of their stint, pining over a failed relationship.
Ellie knew Nick wasn’t losing sleep over her, far from it. A tiny voice in the back of her head, tried to argue she was wrong in that thinking, but she drowned that out by switching to the punching bag.
So, baby, won't you cry for me, cry for me? (cry)
Say you'd d-d-die for me, die for me (oh, won't you cry?)
And if you can't, then baby, lie for me, lie for me
'Cause you haunt me when I'm dreamin'
And it's time you know the feeling
So cry for me
Envisioning Nick as the punching bag was the best idea she’d had in a long damn time. With every punch, she released a bit of anger.
He never cried over me.
He claimed he’d die for me.
He couldn’t even lie for me.
He never loved me.
She may put on a brave face at work, never giving away her true feelings. But at night they came out. Her dreams knew no bounds. They didn’t before they were together, they didn’t while they were together, so why would they after he ripped her heart out? Punch, punch, punch.
His hand was always out of reach in her dreams. She’d be running to him, but he always stayed a step ahead of her. His body turned from her, and his face devoid of emotion and feeling. Shutting her out in the real world, only letting her in in her bed. Punch, punch, punch.
Why won't you cry?
Tears in my eyes, yeah
And you're okay, you're okay
How can you be okay?
No, why won't you cry?
The song continued and so did her emotions, tears welled in her eyes. Rising in a wave of panicky desperation in time with the song, she started to lose it. The control she so surely gripped to, it was slipping. With each punch another thread of the carefully woven rope holding her together shredded just a tiny bit more.
Punch—how DARE he.
Punch—he’s OKAY.
Punch—I’m NOT.
Punch—just fucking CRY.
Like I want to. She was dying to cry, dying to let it out. The speed bag eased her pain for a while, the punching bag bought her a little more time.
So, baby, won't you cry for me, cry for me? (cry now, yeah)
Say you'd d-d-die for me, die for me (cry now, yeah)
And if you can't, then baby, lie for me, lie for me
'Cause you haunt me when I'm dreamin'
And it's time you know the feeling (oh, baby)
It just wasn’t fair. She was dying to cry for him, why the hell couldn’t he cry for her? Or at least lie. At least pretend to hide the girls hanging off his arms. At least pretend to look upset. Don’t look so- fucking- happy. If she had to be haunted by his memories, why didn’t he? It was about damn time he knew that feeling.
The punches to the bag came faster and faster, she couldn’t hold it back anymore. The emotions tearing her to shreds as she was eaten up by fears and doubts and insecurities. She had erected carefully placed walls around her heart after Jake and Qasim, it had taken every ounce of strength in her to let Nick in. When he told her he’d die for her, that sealed the deal. No one, no one, had told her that before.
Ellie let him in—a fatal mistake.
He’d promised her the world, he could lie about that, apparently. The punches slowed as the mask she put in place that afternoon over a month ago crumbled. Her emotions splayed across her face, she couldn’t hide it anymore. Nick’s rejection defeated her, and she had no one to blame but herself. She never saw the red flags, she was too blinded by unrequited love.
A fatal mistake.
It was time to finally...feel.
So cry for me
Ellie crumpled to the floor in an exhausted heap. The only movement to her body the sobs that shook her frame viciously. She’d held back the tears for months. Finally, she let them take over her very soul. Cry for me.
Cry for me
Standing in the dark corner, just out of sight, Nick watched on silently as a tear slid down his cheek and dropped to the floor...just like her. He did that, he crushed the strongest woman he knew. Several more teardrops joined their friends at his feet, the guilt mixed with defeat washing over him.