Chapter 31 Evan
EVAN
“Ishould go,” I say, sliding my arm from beneath Nora.
“You can stay.” Her arms tighten around me, clinging, like she already knows I’m pulling away. “Sleep here like you did last night.”
I swallow. Last night was easy. Everything fell into place and I somehow stepped into the life I’ve always wanted. It was so natural to pretend she was my wife, but when I woke this morning, reality set in. She’s already married and so is he.
The shower patters softly. Steam curls through the gap in the en suite door. Nate’s here. The dream is over. The two people I want can never be mine.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why?” Nora pushes herself onto one elbow, hair spilling over her shoulders, her eyes searching my face. She’s glowing in the light from the bedside lamp, and guilt twists in my gut for what I’m about to do. I never want to be the one who dulls that shine. But I can’t stay.
“Evan, what is it?”
Because I’m in love with both of you.
Because what just happened wasn’t temporary.
Because if this falls apart, I don’t know how the hell I’ll survive.
I sit on the edge of the bed, dragging a hand through my hair. The heat from minutes ago drains away, but my pulse won’t settle.
“I think…” I exhale. “I have an early start tomorrow.”
Nora frowns. “You don’t.”
“I do,” I lie as I search the floor for some clothes. “Paper delivery first thing. Cal’ll kill me if I’m late.”
She studies me as I scramble around the bedroom, searching for my boxers, confusion flickering across her face. “The guys can handle a paper delivery.”
“I know.” I force a small smile, but it doesn’t quite stick. “It just hit me how knackered I am.” I skip the boxers and tug Nate’s joggers on, moving faster than necessary.
In the en suite, the shower shuts off.
My pulse spikes. If he asks me to stay, I don’t know if I can say no to him.
Nora pushes herself upright, the duvet gathered around her. “Ev… is something wrong?”
I shake my head. “Of course not. It was—” I clear my throat. “It was good. Really good.”
Too fucking good.
I lift Nate’s clothes from the floor in my search for a t-shirt. A folded leaflet falls from his pocket. It floats down near Nora like a paper aeroplane.
She lifts it, eyes scanning left and right. “Who’s Emilie?”
I freeze, then turn around to inspect the leaflet.
Nate prowls into the bedroom with a towel around his waist. He pauses, eyes flicking between us, then to the leaflet in Nora’s hand. “I was gonna tell you.”
“Tell me what?” Nora says, a tremor in her voice.
Nate ruffles his wet hair. “I bumped into Emilie at the art studio. She works there, can you believe it?”
I take the leaflet from Nora and examine the writing that reads Emilie and a phone number. “Is this my Emilie?”
“Your Emilie?” Nora’s face pales, her bottom lip trembling.
“I mean my ex Emilie.”
“Emilie from uni?” She pulls a throw over her body, wrapping it around her like armour, the glow from a moment ago now faded.
Nate waves a hand at the leaflet. “Yeah, she wrote her number down for you.”
I stare back at it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I forgot.” His throat bobs as he looks away, unable to look me in the eye. He didn’t he want to tell me.
My heart sinks to my stomach. I gulp, my hand trembling as I hold a piece of my past in my hand. “How was she?”
Nate shrugs. “Same as before, but with more tattoos and piercings.”
“Did she say anything?” My voice is harsher than I mean to be.
Nate frowns. “About what?”
My stomach drops. Anything. Everything. Me. I force my shoulders to relax, but my pulse is hammering in my ears.
Emilie bumping into Nate is harmless enough. Emilie knowing my secret and bumping into Nate is like a ticking bomb waiting to go off.
“She just asked how you were. Thought we were married.” Nate laughs as if that statement is completely absurd.
“Why did she think that?” My voice is too high. I rake a hand through my hair, wiping away the moisture gathered on my forehead.
Nate shrugs again. “I don’t know. Probably because she works with Mark and Michael.”
Nora’s gaze flicks between us. “You never mentioned running into her.”
“It slipped my mind,” Nate says, shrugging. “We were busy.”
My mouth goes dry. Emilie doesn’t forget things.
Emilie notices things. Emilie asks questions until answers fall out, whether you want them to or not.
And Emilie knows things about me Nate doesn’t.
Things I never planned on explaining. I peer down at the leaflet again, her handwriting the same.
Memories flood my mind—university nights, arguments, accusations I laughed off because they were impossible at the time.
Except they don’t feel impossible anymore.
“What did she say exactly?” My jaw tightens.
Nate’s brows pull together now. “Ev… it wasn’t an interrogation. Just small talk.”
Nora shifts, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine.” It’s a lie. Every nerve ending is screaming damage control.
My stomach twists. I shove the leaflet into my pocket like hiding it will somehow contain the problem.
“I really should go.” I unhook a t-shirt from behind the door.
Any t-shirt, I don’t care. I’d even take Nora’s right now if it meant I can get out of here quicker.
Nate surveys me with a furrowed brow. “Ev. It’s just Emilie.”
That’s exactly the problem. I rush down the stairs and slip on my boots, forgetting the socks. My hoodie hangs on the bannister and I grab that too.
Nate stands at the top of the stairs. “Are you pissed that I forgot to tell you?”
“Course not. I just have some stuff to do.” I don’t turn.
If I look at Nate right now, I’m done for.
He’ll see straight through every lie I try to tell, and he can’t know my secrets.
Tonight was already too much. And now this.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I head for the door.
My hand hesitates on the handle. My stomach in knots at the way Nora looked at me when she asked me to stay.
I clench my teeth and leave before either of them can stop me.
On the road, I pat my pockets for the van keys. Nothing. My work trousers. Still in the house. “Fuck.”
I turn back towards the door—but my feet don’t move. I can’t go back in there. Not now. So I walk. The cool night air nips at my face. My work boots scrape my bare feet with every step, but I pick up the pace anyway. Faster.
A jog.
And then I’m running.
My breathing is uneven as the streetlights blur past. Every memory I buried years ago claws its way back up. The box I buried is now out in the open, only it’s not me who threatens to unlock it. It’s Emilie.
My chest burns, lungs dragging for air, but stopping isn’t an option. I run past closed shops, dark windows reflecting a version of me I barely recognise. A half-dressed, dishevelled version of myself gasping for air and running as if something is chasing me.
Maybe something is. Maybe it’s my past catching up with me, or maybe it’s the way it felt as the three of us climaxed together, their hands on my chest as if they both held my heart.
My head pounds harder with every step, thoughts colliding faster than I can separate them. I sprint the last stretch, digging into my hoodie pocket for my phone and house keys. I jog up my drive, slowing as I reach my front door. My hands shake, jingling the keys.
I fumble the lock twice before the door finally opens. I stumble inside and shove the door shut behind me. The hall echoes with silence, but there’s no quieting the din in my head.
My back hits the cold door as if I’m bracing it closed, shutting the world out. My legs buckle and I slide down, landing hard on the floor.
Air rushes out of me in a shaky exhale. My hands drag through my hair. Breathe. Just breathe. But the noise in my head won’t stop.
Being with Nora is one thing; being with Nate is something else entirely. A line I almost crossed once before, and now I’m afraid I’ll trip over it, shattering it completely and ruining everything.
I won’t survive this. Keeping a safe distance is better for all of us.
I pull my phone from my pocket, Emilie’s leaflet crumpled in my grip as I unlock the screen.
I sit here, thumb hovering over the keypad, her number added to my contacts. The one person who knows my secrets.
Fuck it.
Evan: Hey, Em. It’s Evan.