Chapter Fifteen
They had sex every night for the next week and a half, as if they were newly girlfriends—except that was a discussion they’d skipped right over.
Rowan was tired and sore—in the best of ways—every morning, but she was also ecstatically happy, and while having an important conversation wasn’t something she’d intentionally avoided, she’d avoided it just the same. They’d get there. They would.
Her mother was worried, that much was clear by the way she watched her when she didn’t think Rowan noticed, her eyes filled with concern. She didn’t need to stop by as often as she did, but Rowan had yet to settle on a way to tell her that without hurting her feelings.
“Mom, seriously, stop,” she finally said one Saturday as they had lunch together in the small eat-in area of Rowan’s kitchen, and she could feel her mother’s worried eyes on her.
“Stop what?” Her mom feigned surprise, as if she didn’t know exactly what she’d been doing, and it got under Rowan’s skin.
“Stop looking at me like I’m gonna break.”
“I’m not.”
“You are. I can feel it. You have to stop. I’m fine.”
There was a beat as they both ate their salads Rowan’s mom had brought, the only sound the crunching of greens. “You’re never home anymore,” her mother finally said, her voice quiet.
Rowan sighed. She hadn’t meant to, but it blew out of her before she could catch it. “I’m at Evie’s. You know that.”
“Every night?”
Poking the inside of her cheek with her tongue, Rowan put down her fork.
“Mom, I love you, but you have to stop smothering me.” Her mother’s eyes flashed at that, so Rowan pushed on.
“I am a grown-ass adult. If I want to sleep away from home every single night, I can do that. Plus, it’s easier for Evie to be in her own space than to come here. ”
Her mother kept her gaze on her plate as she pushed around a cherry tomato with her fork. Rowan knew she’d struck a nerve, and she felt bad about it, but it needed to be said. She waited her out and finally, her mother spoke. “I know.” Her voice was soft. “I just worry.”
“About what?” Rowan’s question was a bit louder than she’d intended, but the proverbial end of her rope was close enough to touch at this point.
“Just make sure you’re protecting yourself. Okay? I’m really glad you’re being a good friend, and you’re helping Evie with her health, but take care of your own health as well. Please.” Eyes down, she pushed her chair back and stood, then took her dish to the sink.
And now Rowan felt like shit. Because of course she did, how could she not?
She scratched at an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, Mom.
Okay? I know you’re worried. I get it.” And she did.
Didn’t mean she liked it, but she could understand it.
She had to admit that. When her mom turned to look at her, Rowan gave her a half-grin.
“Sometimes I forget that I’ve forgotten. You know?”
Her mom nodded, but the attempt to humorize her memory loss didn’t work, and her mom said nothing more. There wasn’t much conversation after that. She’d hurt her mom’s feelings, and she knew it, but she’d also stood up for herself. Not something she was going to apologize for.
“I’ll call you later,” she said as her mom gathered up her purse and keys.
“Thanks for lunch.” She gave her a kiss on the cheek and a hug and then stood in the doorway as she watched her mom start her car and pull out.
Finally, she closed the door, stood with her back against it, and blew out a long, slow breath.
Kevin sauntered by and gave her a look.
“Hey, don’t judge me. She needed to hear it.” She grimaced at him. “Of course, now I feel like crap. I’m a terrible daughter, aren’t I? God.”
She had a few things to get done before she headed to Evie’s for the night, and one of them was to love on her cat.
It was the one thing she felt bad about, being away so often, so she swooped him up in her arms—much to his dismay if his annoyed meows were any indication—and kissed all over his head.
Then she set him down, found one of the catnip mice he adored, and they played chase with it for nearly half an hour before Kevin got bored and wandered away.
“Thanks for stopping,” she called after him with a grin. “I love you.” His tail swished in response, and she laughed.
She switched the load of laundry she’d done from the washer to the dryer, then cleaned her bathroom—not that it needed it, as she hadn’t used it much that week.
She stopped mid-scrub as a flash of being in Evie’s shower with her hit her brain.
Back against the cold tile, hot water beating on her chest, Evie’s fingers buried deep inside her…
With a grin, she gave herself a little shake and got back to cleaning.
“This is who I am now,” she whispered to the empty bathroom.
“I’m a sex fiend. It’s all I think about.
Sex, sex, sex.” Then she grinned some more, because how was that a bad thing?
Her body sent a throb down between her legs in response, and that left her laughing quietly and shaking her head because dear God, how did one woman affect her so much?
One woman she’d already known? How? It was nuts.
She threw some stuff into her overnight bag and was just zipping it closed when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out to see Evie’s name and photo on the screen. With a slow smile, she answered.
“Hey, sexy thing. I’m getting ready to head over. Need anything?”
“Rowan, it’s Claire.” It took Rowan a second to comprehend that Claire was calling her from Evie’s phone. “I’m at the hospital with Evie. She fell.”
Panic seized her before she even had time to think about it. “What? What do you mean?”
“I mean she fell. Come to the ER and I’ll explain.”
Rowan had a million questions, but the only word that left her mouth was “Okay,” and she practically ran out the door to her car.
She barely recalled the drive—though she was pretty sure she broke any land speed records from her house to the hospital that was seven miles away—and after parking in the visitors’ lot, practically sprinted through the double doors into the lobby.
She obtained Evie’s whereabouts from the information desk and was race-walking through the emergency department, passing some cubbies with open curtains and some with the curtain pulled closed.
She heard Evie’s voice before she saw her, and she stopped a few feet from the curtain that had been pulled shut.
“Why? Why would you call her?” Evie asked, and everything inside Rowan fell because she knew exactly who Evie was talking about. “I didn’t want that.”
“Do you think she wouldn’t have noticed the bandage on your wrist?” That was Claire, and her voice was tight. Strained. Like she was talking through clenched teeth.
“I would’ve told her I wasn’t up for a visit tonight.”
“And for the next eight weeks of nights? Come on, Evie.” There was a beat of silence, and Rowan could picture them having a stare-down.
Finally, Claire spoke again, and her voice was equal parts soft and icy, though Rowan couldn’t figure out how that was possible.
“You have no right to jerk people around like this. Not me and not her. Grow the fuck up.” And then the curtain flew open, but Claire went the other way and didn’t see Rowan standing there eavesdropping.
She gave it a moment and then took the handful of steps that brought her into Evie’s view.
“Hey,” she said as she walked in and kissed Evie on the top of her head. She gave it a second, let Evie get her bearings, then asked, “What happened?” her eyes glancing at Evie’s bandaged wrist.
Evie sighed and stared at her hand for a long time. When she finally spoke, her voice was just above a whisper. “I lost my balance in the kitchen and fell. Tried to catch myself. Broke a glass. And probably my wrist.”
“Maybe we should get you some wrist guards and knee pads and a helmet. Deck you out like a skateboarder.” It was yet another attempt at humor that fell flat on her. In fact, the opposite happened and Evie looked stricken. “I’m kidding,” Rowan added quickly, reaching out for Evie’s shoulder.
“It’s not funny,” Evie said, jerking her shoulder away, her eyes wet now. “I could end up like that. I lose my balance a lot. One of the many joys of this disease.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make light of it.” She pulled the plastic chair out of the corner and took a seat next to Evie’s bed. “Are you okay?”
A small sob escaped Evie’s lips, just a quick little puff of air before she caught it. “I hate this.”
“I know.”
“No. You don’t know. You couldn’t possibly know.”
Rowan nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t know.” She put her hand on Evie’s thigh.
“You should just go.”
“Well, I’m not doing that, so…”
Evie’s eyes flashed at her, and the vehemence in them startled Rowan. “I don’t want this for you.”
Rowan shrugged.
“Rowan. Jesus. Just go.”
“No.”
Evie’s anger grew. “I don’t want you here.”
“Yes, you do.” Rowan held her gaze, and they had a little stare-down. Evie was trying hard to hold on to her irritation.
“I don’t. I don’t want you here. Go home.”
“That’s a lie, and no, I’m not going.” The flashing was back. “Do you want to tell me you don’t love me anymore? Because I know that’s a lie, too.”
And just like that, the anger drifted away. Evie’s face softened, and her eyes grew wet. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke. “You don’t understand. You can’t possibly know.”
“So, tell me. Help me to know.” Rowan grasped her good hand and held it.
“I never wanted you to be a part of this.” Tears were flowing freely down Evie’s cheeks now, and she didn’t look at Rowan as she spoke.
“I say I don’t want this for you because it’s just going to get worse.
There’s no way around it. Not knowing when I’m going to break something or not be able to walk that day.
Not knowing if or when I may end up a complete invalid.
I’m never getting better. Only worse. And I do not want this for you. ”