Chapter 5: Storm at the Playground

I got mad and wouldn’t play with him, sulking for days.

Eli panicked and had his dad record an apology for me on his old iPod.

In the recording, he said, “Maddie, I know I was wrong. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have fought you. How about this: I’ll use my allowance to buy you dolls. On holidays, you can put makeup on me. But since I’m a boy, please give me a little dignity at school, okay?”

Eli’s voice was soft and sincere, and so we made up. I still have that old iPod somewhere, tucked in a drawer.

At school, when boys picked on me, Eli would step in and fight for me. “If you mess with Maddie, you mess with me!”

He’d always end up with scraped knees, but he’d get up, wipe his bloody nose on his sleeve, and smile at me. “Don’t worry, Maddie. When I grow up, I’ll be able to protect you. With me around, nobody’s gonna hurt you.”

Eli always protected me and spoiled me. If I told him to go east, he’d never go west. No matter what trouble I got into, he’d take the blame for me with my parents.

He’d do anything to protect me. We had a wonderful childhood together. We were the kind of childhood sweethearts everyone envied—neighbors would whisper about us at block parties and snap pictures of us trick-or-treating together.

But happiness never lasts. When we were twelve, Eli went to the family’s auto shop to find his parents. There was an explosion, and Eli was trapped under the rubble. By the time he was rescued and taken to the hospital, he’d lost his hearing.

After the diagnosis, the doctor said Eli was now hearing-impaired. The school tried to help—offering special services and counseling—but Eli changed. He became withdrawn and moody, always avoiding me. Even if we ran into each other at the bus stop, he acted cold and distant, like I was just another stranger.

As we got older and hit our teens, more and more people started liking Eli, and I found myself getting jealous—crazy jealous. Only then did I realize that, without even noticing, I’d already fallen for Eli. A love that went bone-deep, impossible to shake.

Thinking about it, tears welled up in my eyes. We were so close, so happy when we were kids. The distance between us now felt unbearable.

Gabriel scooted closer and patted my back. “If you feel like your relationship can’t go on, you should try talking to him. Sometimes texting or writing a letter helps—there are even apps for that. A lot of misunderstandings and doubts can be cleared up if you just talk, you know?”

He handed me a napkin, and I dabbed my eyes, feeling a little more human. If only I could talk to him. The trouble is, I can’t communicate with Eli at all. Sometimes I wish I’d learned sign language, just so I could bridge that gap.

Gabriel’s voice softened, a little teasing. “Honestly, I liked you back in high school, but I didn’t expect you to be married now.”

I didn’t quite catch that. I wiped my tears and asked, “What did you say?”

Before Gabriel could answer, I looked up and saw Eli standing at the entrance to the park, watching us—his arms crossed, jaw clenched, body rigid with tension. I hadn’t even noticed him approach.

Our eyes met. He stared at me coldly, his face unreadable but his posture screaming anger and hurt.

Only then did I realize Gabriel and I were sitting too close. Worse, his hand was still on my back. From Eli’s perspective, it looked like Gabriel was holding me, comforting me in a way he never could.

The air between us felt thick and electric, like a storm about to break. I froze, my heart thudding in my chest, wondering what Eli would do next, the tension between us rising like a tide I couldn’t escape.