CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
The anger dissipated first. It was the embarrassment and regret that plagued Evylin throughout the day.
Why had Thom said those things? He couldn’t mean them, could he? In all the time she’d known him, and even though she’d understood his jealousy and resentment toward his brother, she’d never believed that Thom could harbor feelings that were so . . . wrong.
A swift breeze cut through the camp, whipping up the smoke from the fire. It whirled, covering Evylin in its acrid stench. She coughed, her eyes stinging as she waved it away.
“Sorry,” Ilain said, lifting her hands and using magic to redirect the path of the smoke. Her sketchbook sat open on her lap while the food continued to cook in the pot. “I was distracted.”
“It’s all right,” Evylin promised, returning to her own distracted thoughts.
She tugged on her rings, glancing around the rest of the camp.
While Ethenn sat on the far log practicing flipping his dagger from one hand to the next in intricate spins, Thom lay under the canvas tent with an arm over his eyes.
He’d been appropriately somber after his admission. Clearly, he regretted it. But whether he regretted the revelation of his secret feelings for the right reasons or for self-focused ones, she couldn’t tell.
Evylin drew in a deep breath. How had she not recognized Thom’s romantic regard toward her?
All this time, Thom’s blatant insults toward Deckard’s character, his warnings of Deckard’s selfishness, and his suggestions that Evylin should move on—all of it held newfound clarity.
Thom had been subtly trying to convey his affection to her.
And she’d been foolish enough to miss it.
Evylin still couldn’t believe it. How could he entertain such desires for his brother’s wife? Even if Thom didn’t know of Deckard’s love for her—which she knew he did—how could he allow himself to foster those feelings?
Her fingers twisted around her rings. And how could he think she’d return them? Perhaps she hadn’t been able to return Deckard’s love, but she’d never given Thom any encouragement . . . Had she?
Evylin wanted to drop her face into her hands in misery, but she couldn’t allow herself to wallow. Not while Ilain and Ethenn were present. Instead, she berated herself silently.
How had this happened? Her brother-in-law was in love with her.
Was it her fault? Could she have stopped Thom’s affection before it began?
Or was she even to blame at all? Could it be possible that Thom’s feelings developed from his insecurities alone?
She thought back through the entirety of their relationship, back through their travel with the Ephrian Army, to their duel securing her marriage to Deckard, to the first moment she met Thom in Hewitt’s smithy.
Had there been signs even then of his attraction? She couldn’t say.
But then, Evylin had never been good at recognizing a man’s interest. She’d completely missed Prince Ephren’s revolting attempts at seduction in Banbury. Perhaps it was expected that she’d miss something as plain as Thom’s interest as well.
Evylin’s heart squeezed. What would Deckard say when he learned of this? He loved Thom, despite everything that had happened between them. He wanted the best for his brother. The discovery that Thom had betrayed him so completely . . . She didn’t want to think about how Deckard would respond.
Evylin tried to rationalize Thom’s feelings.
Perhaps he didn’t mean it. He saw life itself as a competition with Deckard.
Perhaps his affections were driven solely by his desire to best his brother.
It was possible that he’d duped himself into believing he loved Evylin in an effort to overcome the inferiority he felt in the presence of his older brother.
But what if he did mean it? What if he truly loved her? She would be forced to break the hearts of both brothers. She couldn’t stay with Deckard, and she wouldn’t be with Thom.
Tightening her jaw, Evylin decided to allow her anger to ignite once again.
How dare he do this to her? To Deckard? Thom was putting her in an impossible situation and hurting his brother in the process.
If Deckard found out about his betrayal, she knew how deep that wound would cut. And she had no doubt it would fester.
Well, she wouldn’t be the cause of Deckard and Thom’s broken relationship. She wouldn’t be the thing that finally drove the two apart. Thom didn’t get to make her the villain in this story. He would just have to take responsibility for the disaster himself.
Determined, Evylin rose from her seat. She didn’t bother speaking to Ilain or Ethenn, even as they watched her walk across the camp and straight up to the tent where Thom lay.
Evylin kicked the bottom of Thom’s boot. He lifted his arm, a look of surprise and worry immediately twisting his expression. “We need to talk,” she said quietly.
Thom glanced at the fire where the others sat. Slowly, he rose. He dusted off his pants, not meeting her eyes. “Should we—?”
“Yes,” Evylin said shortly, then led the way to the forest edge. She didn’t care to walk far from camp; it wouldn’t be that long of a conversation. But she stepped behind the trees to keep their argument unseen by the others.
Without giving Thom time to prepare, Evylin began. “This is the final time we will ever discuss this,” she told him in hushed, clipped tones. “Do you understand?”
Keeping his chin tucked, Thom nodded. He looked like a little boy, scared and broken by his mistakes.
“Good.” Evylin steeled herself with a deep, angered breath. “Everything you said earlier, we’re going to forget it.”
Thom flinched. “Evie—”
“No, Thom,” she cut him off sharply. “I don’t care what you think you feel.
You are going to forget it all, and I’m going to forget you ever said a word about it.
Because when we walk back into that camp, it will be as if it never happened.
Got it? You are my friend, and you will feel nothing more for me. ”
“I understand,” he muttered bitterly.
“When this conversation is over, the subject will never be broached again. Not between us . . . or anyone else.”
Thom met her eyes then, a strange hopefulness within his gaze.
“I won’t tell Jonn,” she promised. “Not when I know how this would hurt him. He loves you. He always has. But this . . . I don’t know if even he can forgive you for this.”
Thom swallowed.
“So I won’t tell him,” Evylin whispered, her voice weakening as her anger returned to regret. “Because I won’t be the reason he loses you.”
Thom wrung his hands, his breathing sharp and labored. “Evie, I—I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but . . . it won’t matter. My relationship with Jonn has been broken for years.”
“It doesn’t have to stay that way,” she insisted. “He wants to fix it. He wants to be your friend. You’re the one refusing to cooperate.”
“It isn’t that simple.”
“Yes, it is.” Evylin glared up at him. “I’ve listened to both of you.
I’ve heard both sides of the story, and I’ve watched as time and time again, he tries to love you, and you reject him.
This isn’t Jonn’s fault. It’s yours. And once you accept that, then perhaps you’ll be able to see past your arrogance and accept his love. ”
Thom’s lips parted in shock as though she’d slapped him.
Evylin’s manner remained cold, too hurt by his earlier actions to care. “I’m done coddling you. I will protect Jonn by keeping the truth from him, but I will not protect you from anything anymore.”
“I understand,” he repeated, his voice flat and his hurt evident. But then he met her gaze. “Are you still going to leave him?”
Evylin’s body tensed. She stepped back involuntarily. “Yes,” she murmured.
Thom hesitated, his sharp gray-blue eyes studying her.
His jaw was tight, his lips pressing into a thin line.
Then he sighed. “Look, I understand that I’m a terrible brother.
I’ve betrayed Jonn; there’s no way around that.
So it may sound a bit disingenuous when I say this, but .
. . You are the most nonsensical person I’ve ever met. ”
Evylin could only blink in confusion.
He took a step closer, his brow furrowed in a way that reminded her too much of Deckard.
“No one—” he began, his voice rough as he spoke, “No one can talk about someone the way you talked about Jonn this afternoon and not love that person. Everything you said about him . . . I wish someone would say those things about me.”
Rooted to the ground beneath her feet, Evylin wanted to deny his words. Whatever admiration she held for Deckard, it was simply respect, not love. She wanted to convince Thom of that, just as she tried to convince herself.
Instead, she lifted her chin. “Feelings play no role in this decision, Thom.”
“Then what does?” he demanded.
That was a question Evylin couldn’t bring herself to answer.
A slow drizzle began, rustling the leaves in a chorus of patters and slaps. In the rising temperatures, neither wore their cloaks. The sudden onslaught of rain began to drench them, but they didn’t move, locked in a battle of wills.
Thom glared at her with something resembling frustration. “Do you love him?” he demanded.
“No,” she said without giving herself the chance to think.
An embittered smirk came to Thom’s face. “You’ve always been a terrible liar, Evie.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Fine,” he said apathetically. “You don’t love him. All the things you said before were the words of some other lovesick sap. You’re going to leave Jonn, and you won’t be unhappy because you don’t care about him. Works for me.”
Evylin rolled her eyes. “What do you want from me? Do you want me to be with you or to be with Jonn?”
“Would you ever be with me?” he asked, brow raised with a disbelieving arch.
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.” He shook his head. “I don’t care what you do, Evylin. Be with him or leave him—whatever you want. But take it from someone who’s screwed up everything good he’s ever had: You’ll regret every moment of your life if you walk away from him.”
She stared at him, every argument she could think of caught in her chest next to the wound she’d inflicted on herself when she chose to leave her husband.
Thom dipped his head lower, deliberately meeting her eyes. “There’s a reason I resent my brother, Evie. It’s because he’s the best man this world has, and we can never hope to deserve him.” He scoffed cynically. “Who wouldn’t be resentful? How is anyone supposed to compete with that?”
Evylin turned away, not wanting to hear the truth of what she’d given up.
“Reject me if you like,” Thom said in a quiet, self-loathing tone. “I deserve it. But he doesn’t.”
Then he turned away and left her there.
Evylin stood in the cold rain, her hair and clothes soaked. Droplets trickled down her cheeks like tears. Her fingers twisted her rings absentmindedly. No, Deckard didn’t deserve her rejection. And perhaps she should take that into consideration, but . . .
She squeezed her eyes shut around the emotion welling within. She’d cried too much over the past month. Enough tears to fill the whole ocean. Now, her body was hollow, worn ragged under the weight of long-suppressed grief.
No, Deckard didn’t deserve her rejection.
But neither did he deserve a wife who couldn’t love him as well as he deserved.
Evylin meant what she’d told Ilain last night.
She had no love left to give. Her heart was sundered irrevocably.
What could she offer any man when every moment she questioned her very desire to exist?
“The world isn’t what I thought it’d be.” Evylin’s words from months ago drifted back into her mind along with Hewitt’s deep, growling voice.
“What are you looking for in the world, Evie?”
“I don’t know,” she’d admitted. “But I can’t accept that life is as simple and . . . boring as this. There has to be something else out there. Some other reason to live.”
“What would be reason enough to live?”
Evylin didn’t have any more answers now than she did then. “There must be more . . . Life must be more.”
Yet, here she stood in her imagination of “more”—the thrill of adventure—and it felt immeasurably like “less.”
Evylin stared at her rings. What would be reason enough to live when everything inevitably ended in death?
There was no escaping that unavoidable fact.
Hewitt died on a grand adventure. Ryen died in an accidental fire.
Nowhere was safe, not out in the world and not back in Whickam Village.
She couldn’t run from death; she couldn’t escape loss. It followed her everywhere she went.
Releasing her rings, Evylin stared into the dimming forest trees.
“What would be reason enough to live?”
Nothing. Because inevitably, those reasons would be taken from her, one life at a time.