Chapter 18
Evan
I haven’t been this nervous since Kat and I went out on our first date.
It was an easy date, a place I knew well.
My club. I didn’t own it; I never got into commercial real estate, although I have thought about it.
It was still my club, though. At least that’s how I felt.
I should’ve felt in control and powerful to meet her in front of the doors, the music drifting out into the street, but one look at her stepping out of her car had my heart pumping faster and the back of my neck sweating.
Kat’s always been able to stun me like that.
As if I don’t already know she’s beautiful.
It’s something else, though, that’s got me this nervous.
It’s the sense that I can’t hold on to her no matter what I do. That’s the feeling I had flowing through my veins that night, and that’s the feeling flowing through me now as I get ready to step up to the doors of Mason’s house in the Berkshires.
I check my phone again to see if I have any more texts from him, but I don’t. The last one said she was packing her stuff and planning on moving back to the townhouse.
I rap my knuckles on the hard oak doors, the cold air making it hurt just a bit. My body urges me to do it harder, to embrace the pain and focus on that and not the anxiety of rejection.
I would deserve it, after all.
The door opens in one tug, and the glow from the foyer chandelier carries to the porch. There she is. Holding the door open with her lips parted in shock.
“Evan.” She says my name as she stands perfectly still.
A faint dusting of snow settles around me as I take her in. From the white socks on her feet, to the silk pajamas that must be a gift from Jules, because I’ve never seen them before in my life.
“Hey,” I greet her and then swallow the lump in my throat. “I heard you were here.”
Her expression hardens instantly as she seems to get over my surprise arrival.
“What do you want?” she asks me, although it sounds like an interrogation. Before I can answer, she takes a half step forward to come outside rather than letting me in, like a fucking lunatic.
“What are you doing?” I ask her with complete disbelief as she tries to shut the door.
“I’m not having this conversation in Jules’s house,” Kat says as if it’s an admonishment, like I’m the one who’s lost their mind.
“Baby, get inside, it’s freezing out!”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” she yells back at me, and her words strike me across the face. I take it, though. I take one step back and watch as she crosses her arms over her chest and her cheeks quickly turn pink from the wind that won’t let up, followed by the tip of her nose. “What do you want?”
“Are you sure you don’t want to go inside?” I question her as calmly as I can, attempting to be reasonable.
“I went to your house today,” she states. The blood drains from my face.
“Is that right?” I somehow manage to reply, knowing what’s coming, my body tensing up. All I can hear is my heart pounding as I feel her slipping away from me.
“I don’t want anything to do with you, Evan.” The cutting words are spoken with a cracked voice. At least there’s emotion left. If there’s that, then I still have a chance.
“I don’t know what you think you saw, but …” I start to tell her and then flinch from her shriek.
“Think?” she yells. “I saw her!” She moves in closer, getting in my face to scream at me. “Samantha. You left me to be with her,” she says and seethes, the accusation coming out hard.
“Did you see me touch her?” I ask her, taking a step closer to her. “I know you didn’t, because I never would. I’m not seeing her. I didn’t even want her there.”
“She was with you,” she says the words then breathes out with nothing but pain and agony.
“Yeah, she was. A few times in the last week,” I confess. I don’t want her to find out any other way. “I’m trying to fix things and she’s?—”
“I want you to go,” she says, cutting me off.
“I won’t until you tell me you believe me.” I look her in the eyes, silently begging her, and wait for it.
“I told you not to. Just go!”
“Never. I would never stray from you.” As I say the words, it’s crippling. Because I know she did what she’s accusing me of. She’s the one who’s seeing someone else, but I gave her the space to do it. I left her side.
It’s all fucked.
She doesn’t answer me, merely shivers in the cold as her bottom lip starts to turn a purplish blue.
“Let’s go inside,” I urge her, but she doesn’t respond. “I want to talk.”
“I thought the funeral might be a good time to talk,” she finally says with tears in her eyes. “Guess you didn’t?
Her words slice through me, down to my core. “It meant a lot to me that you were there,” I manage to say, but I can’t look her in the eyes. The tips of my fingers turn numb and the feeling flows through every inch of my body.
“Didn’t seem like it,” she replies, although she’s lost a bit of strength in her voice.
“I’m having a difficult time handling it,” I tell her, scrambling for an excuse, but there’s so much truth in those words.
James was there at the funeral. He even shook my hand, the fucking bastard. The reason is right there on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to go to her, to hold her. To go home with her and get lost in her love. More than anything.
“You think it was easy for me?” she asks me after a moment of silence.
“You think it was easy for me?” I shoot right back and the memories of the grave, the service hit me. I have to pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes as I see the visions of the nightmares mixing with the memories. I shouldn’t even be here. Regret flows through my veins. What am I doing?
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, and her breath turns to fog. The wind blows, and her hair falls in front of her face as I tell her, “I’m sorry too.” I get a little choked up, but I manage to tell her, “He loved you so much.”
He really did. His voice telling me to make it right keeps playing in my head and it kills my strength.
“I told you I just needed time.” I try to make the words come out strong, but instead, it’s a plea. I don’t know what to do anymore.
All I want to do is protect her. Maybe that means losing her forever.
She shakes her head. “What part of us moving on with our lives didn’t you understand? I don’t have time for games or whatever trouble you’ve gotten into.”
“I’m fixing the trouble.” I refuse to give up. “I just need more time.”
“And how much longer is that going to be? How much longer do I have to sit on the back burner and wait for you to love me again?”
“I still love you,” I say.
“You don’t act like it.”
“There’s a reason for everything, I promise.” I have to blink away the scenes of the funeral, of the night terrors.
“I don’t want to hear your excuses anymore,” she says and wipes under her eyes. Her voice is drenched with defeat. “You’re supposed to be here for me.”
I question everything in that moment. I’m so afraid of losing her, but the image of her dead on the ground makes me harden my resolve. I hesitate and immediately regret it.
“I need you to go, Evan. For good.”
“It’s because of Jacob, isn’t it?” I can’t help but blurt it out. I want someone else to blame. Someone else to hate other than me. “You’re moving on with him?”
I can’t help but point out that she’s the one who wants someone else. I only want her. I won’t lose her. I’ll fuck her so good when all this is over, she’ll forget any other man exists.
“You think I need a man? You think I need someone?” Her voice is coated with an anger I haven’t seen from her before. “I never needed anyone! You’re the only one I ever let in. You were the only one I let get close and I’ll be fine, living the rest of my life alone.”
“You want him more than me?” My jealousy gets the best of me.
“Get away from me!” she spits out as she opens the door to head into the house.
“I’m coming back for you,” I tell her, and I mean it.
“Well I won’t be here, and I’m changing the locks on the townhouse. So good fucking luck with that.”