Chapter 6 Evie
EVIE
My heart is pounding so hard in my chest right now that I’m pretty sure I have completely forgotten how to breathe. It feels like my throat is closing every time I try to breathe in.
Tanner.
The drinking.
Keaton.
The money.
Him.
It all feels like way too much right now, and I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t know how to do anything. What I want to do is sink back into him. Let him hold me up. Let him carry me through this apartment and throw me onto that big ol’ bed of his like a rag doll.
But clearer heads must prevail.
In all the years I’ve known him, I have prided myself on being the one person in his life who didn’t care about who he was or what he had to offer.
It was always a joke, even when we were kids, that I would never let him pay for anything.
I’d find places for us to hang out where we would be the least likely to be seen.
Where no one would realize who he was. Where we could just be.
So this? Him suggesting I let him fund my divorce? And ten years after I’m pretty sure I ripped his heart out of his chest, no less.
No.
I won’t do it.
I can’t do it.
I wrap my arms tighter around my body. But when he steps even closer and I feel his warmth, all that independent woman stuff goes to shit. Because I let myself lean back on him, and he slowly snakes his arms around me.
“You have whatever you need,” he says again, and I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head back and forth on his chest.
“No,” I say again.
But he just squeezes me tighter.
“Yes,” he fights back.
“Why?” I ask after a moment. When he doesn’t answer, I turn so we’re face to face. “Why would you even…why are you doing this?” He reaches out and locks our hands together again.
“Because you deserve everything you want in life, Evie. And what I saw last night…that can’t be it.”
I wriggle free from his grasp and take a few steps.
“How do you know?” I ask him. “How do you know you didn’t just catch us on a bad night?”
He cocks his head and takes a step toward me.
“Did I?” he asks simply. “Do you normally send out distress signals on your ‘bad nights’?” I swallow. The truth is, no. Because I never had anyone around that I thought might actually answer them.
I don’t answer him. I just bite my bottom lip. He takes another step toward me.
“Is it like that a lot, Evie?” he asks. I swallow again. I wish I could say no. But he’d know I was lying. I nod slowly. “Has he…” He pauses for a moment, draws in a breath, then lifts his eyes to me. “Has he hurt you?” he asks through gritted teeth.
I shake my head no slowly.
“No,” I say.
A see a flash of relief wash over his face.
“But you’ve thought he might?” he asks. I pick up a lock of my hair and begin to twirl it. Then I nod. He steps closer to me and takes my hand. He brings it to his lips. “That’s too much, Eve. Too close.”
I swallow.
I know he’s right.
I know this is too much.
I know that whatever there is between Tanner and me, it hasn’t resembled love in a very long time.
I know that the last time I tried to initiate sex, he drunkenly told me that I had gotten a little “soft around the middle” before he passed out.
I haven’t tried since.
That was ten months ago.
I know that I take more and more shifts at the diner each month so that I can be home less. I know that, for the past year, when our friends have asked us to get together, we have both made up numerous excuses.
I know that the numerous times I asked him to go to couples therapy, he spat on the idea and told me that was “crazy-people shit.”
And I know that I feel happiest when I’m alone and the most tense when I’m with him.
And I know that, over the last few months, I have started to feel scared in my own home. My mind has wondered about how far he might go the next time.
Too much.
I feel my eyes burning, and when I lift them to Keaton, the tears flow out of them.
He takes the last few steps toward me and pulls me into him again.
And then I let myself cry again. I don't know for how long, but he doesn’t seem to care.
When I finally pull myself out of it, I wipe my eyes and look up at him.
“Okay,” I finally say.
He raises an eyebrow.
“Okay?” he asks. I nod. He squeezes my shoulders. “Does your, uh…family know what’s
been going on?”
My eyes grow wide as the reality of this decision I’m making sets in. I walk slowly toward the couch again, slapping a hand to my face.
“Oh, god,” I say. “My family. His family. My shit…fuck.”
He follows me back to the couch, sitting on the coffee table in front of me.
“Don’t worry about your family,” he says. He knows about my family. He knows they were nothing but stress for me as a kid and a young adult. He knows that I could never lean on them, and that hasn’t changed. “You will stay here. For as long as you want. Okay?”
I suck in a slow breath.
I nod. He nods.
“Okay,” he says. “When do you work next?”
I think for a moment.
“I work at the diner tomorrow night. Then the office Monday through Friday.”
He cocks his eyebrow again.
“Office?”
“I work for the state. I’m a social worker,” I say. A small smile creeps over his perfect lips. “What?”
He shakes his head.
“Just always knew you’d be what you said you’d be. And I know you’re fucking amazing at it.”
I bite my lip.
“Okay,” he goes on, “I’m going to have one of our security guys bring you to and from work.
” My eyes grow wide again. “It’s just precautionary.
But that way, we know you’re safe. They will bring you to work, here, and anywhere else you want to go.
I won’t tell anyone you’re here, if you don’t want me to.
Take the time you need. You can breathe while you are figuring everything else out. ”
I swallow.
Everything else.
Like my whole fucking life.
I nod.
“Thank you, Keat,” I whisper.
“I’d do anything for you, Eve,” he says with a smirk. He pats his lap then stands up from the table. “I have to meet my brothers soon, so I’m gonna shower. The kitchen is stocked, or feel free to order whatever you want for delivery.”
I nod and force a smile, but he sees through it. He bends down so our eyes are locked.
“You’re gonna be okay, Evie Rae Dawson,” he says with a wink. “I promise.” Then he bends down to leave a long, slow kiss on my forehead before turning on his heel and walking down the hall.
Evie Rae Dawson.
I’ll never forget the first time he called me Evie.