Elle collapsed on the couch in her new condo, surrounded by a multitude of thrice-moved boxes.
“Warner, my arms and legs are aching! Whatever’s left, I don’t even want it. I’m exhausted. Please, let’s call it a day.”
She lifted her hand to let Warner examine the damage. “See? I’ve already broken a fingernail.”
Warner took the examination of Elle’s fingernail as an opportunity to hold her hand.
“Elle, this place looks like the basement of a museum! I can’t believe all these things ever fit into your dorm room.” After a pause, he said, “I don’t guess we’ll dig out that videotape tonight.”
“No.” Elle smiled. “Not tonight.” The Vegas tape was the one string she still had tied to Warner. “Warner, it’s going to kill me to part with that videotape,” she said dreamily. Her head tilted back and she let her eyes travel over the ceiling. Then she began to reminisce. “That tacky Imperial Palace. I’ll always love it, all of it, the ceiling mirrors and plastic bamboo. Las Vegas, of all places. Still, it was our palace.” Her eyes sparkled with the memory. He was still her prince.
The time had passed when it still made sense for Warner to be holding Elle’s hand. He dropped to his knees, level with the couch, interrupting her words with a long kiss. She looked into his half-closed eyes with wide, adoring delight. And then, suddenly, to her surprise, she giggled.
All of her pointed yearning for this moment, all the tension of waiting, evaporated into dizzy girlishness. Covering her mouth with her hands, Elle brushed Warner’s face accidentally.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped as she watched him draw back, looking perplexed and slightly angry.
Warner stood up brusquely and moved to the door, trying not to show his anger and embarrassment. Elle had never laughed at him before. “I should have left when we finished moving. Just leave the videotape in my mailbox at school, okay? Sarah would kill me if she knew I was here.”
At the mention of Sarah’s name, Elle’s mood changed abruptly. She shook her head in self-reproach. “What was I thinking, Warner? You don’t want to be here, you’ve got a life, practically a wife! All you want from me is that tape. Well, you don’t have to kiss me for it.”
“Elle,” Warner protested, moving back to her, his eyes slowly traveling up her body. “It’s not like that at all. I’m not here just for the tape. I wanted to see you.” She quieted, but stared at him suspiciously.
“Elle,” Warner explained, holding her shoulders, “I have a lot to lose. Sarah’s very sensitive about this. She doesn’t want me to have anything to do with you.”
Elle backed out of Warner’s grip. “Please just go, Warner,” she said. She crossed her arms and stared miserably at the door, avoiding his eyes, humiliated by her own tears and the fact that she thought about him every day.
Elle choked back quiet sobs until she heard the door close, then listened intently to Warner’s footsteps departing in a hurry outside. Once certain he had left, she dropped her head into her hands, confused.
What a disaster. Underdog jumped playfully up on the couch. “Hey there, Underdog,” Elle said, scratching his head. “I’d better start getting serious about all of this reading for Contracts. I think I just blew my marriage chances.” She had chased Warner to law school, she hated law school, law school hated her, and Warner was hog-tied by his fiancée. On top of that, she had become romantically challenged, reacting like a giddy teenager when Warner made his move.
Her boxes were packed, and she considered moving them all the way back to L.A., escaping and saving herself while she could. She didn’t know what she wanted anymore. Yes, she still loved Warner, but she wanted him to love her and only her. If she couldn’t tear him away from Sarah, she’d have to think of something else.
Elle imagined how satisfied Sarah and her friends would be to see her parachuting out of law school, scared and beaten. The Barbie doll who couldn’t take it. Elle scowled, recalling Sarah and Claire’s whispered joke on the first day of class, remembering Dean Haus’s mockery of her homecoming queen crown. They would all love to see her fail. And oh, wouldn’t it kill them to see her graduate.
Setting her jaw with renewed determination, Elle tousled Underdog’s fur. “We’ll both be underdogs,” she said, encouraged by her dog’s calm, devoted eyes.