41. The Dark Discovery
WEST
Eva runs out of the resort and toward the beach, and although I know I probably should give her space, I just can’t.
When I finally catch up to her, I say, “I’m here if you need me.”
She slows her pace. “I can’t think. I can’t feel. I can’t anything.” Her words squeak out through a sob.
“I understand.” I shake my head, reality hitting me like a sledgehammer. “Wait. No, I don’t. I understand a lot of things, but I’ll never understand this. But maybe your dad’s just messed up and needs to get his head together.”
She stops walking and puts a hand over her chest. “It hurts so damn much!”
I put an arm around her and pull her tight. I can’t imagine the pain of being rejected by my own father like that, especially after spending a lifetime doing everything to make him happy. All I say is, “I’m here.”
She sobs into my arms, and my heart splits into pieces as her words to her dad slam through my mind.
You’ve never forgiven me for Mom, have you?
What the hell did that mean? How in the world could Eva be responsible for her mother dying in a car accident? Come to think of it, Eva never has talked about it much. Never given any details.
Clearly, there’s much more to know. How has she held this secret her whole life?
I don’t know, but the weight of it must’ve been suffocating.
I hold her in silence until she’s all cried out. Then she pulls away and swipes the tears from her red, puffy face. Shaking her head, she says, “So, that bitch isn’t the one trying to ruin the wedding, is she?”
I bark out a tension-relieving laugh. “Seems like she’s had other things on her mind.”
She yanks off her shoes. “Honestly, I don’t care anymore. It’s over after I stand in for Paige today. We’ll just have to let karma do its job.”
“Right, I think Skye calls it ‘cosmic boomerangs.’”
Now she’s the one who bursts into laughter. “Right. Well, may we call in cosmic boomerangs to all those deserving.”
“Consider it done.” I reach for her hand and squeeze it. “Hey. I’m damn proud of you.”
“You are?” She sounds so sweet and vulnerable. It tears at me more.
“Of course. And don’t let the doubts creep into your head as time passes. You said things to him that needed to be said. And I’m so glad you’re not going to work at the firm. Your heart was never in it.”
She nods slowly. “Me too. I feel like I can breathe again.” She gives my hand a squeeze. “Thanks for being here. Not just now, but always.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And I really hope they keep you as the next Groomsman to Groom star. I’m so sorry I might’ve cost you that—”
“Hey, you didn’t. Every single thing we did was mutual, so don’t blame yourself for that.” I sigh. “But anyway, I’ll talk to Darren about it—I’m not too concerned,” I lie. I am gravely concerned, but she doesn’t need to know that.
She bites her lip. “If there’s anything else I can do to help, let me know. Although it sounds like helping is probably me staying as far away as possible from everything.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right.” I step back, trying to leave her be, but not quite ready yet. “Eva, you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met. And you’ll bounce back from this—better than before.”
“If I’m strong, you’re Jedi-level strong, West. I’ve always admired that you worked so hard for everything in your life. I know your parents are so proud.”
“Thanks,” I say, trying to accept her compliment even though it’s a very hard thing for me to do.
She hitches a thumb over her shoulder. “I guess I have a wedding to get ready for… as the bride.” She groans. “I cannot believe I have to now try and pull that off.”
“Remember, Skye and I have your back.”
“I know you do.” She nods wistfully. “Always.”
I’m back in my room, and I fire up my trusty laptop—a survivor of soda spills and coding marathons.
What the hell happened to Eva and her mother?
It’s a splinter in my mind—annoying, persistent, and impossible to ignore. I’m not just going to let this one lie. How could I?
With coffee in hand and two hours before I have to report to the groomsmen suite, I open up a browser—where every secret has its hiding place.
I type “Amy and Eva Steinberg accident” into the search bar, hitting ‘Enter’ with a grim determination.
Results spill out before me, a cascade of condolences and old news reports. I scroll until one headline stops me dead in my tracks: “Mother Dies Saving Daughter From Submerged Car.”
“Holy shit,” I whisper to the empty room, my heart sinking like a stone. The screen blurs as I read the details, each word etching itself into my brain.
“Holy shit,” I say again, this time with an echo of realization. Eva’s been carrying this around practically all her life. I lean back in my chair, running my hands through my hair, which no doubt, is sticking straight up.
I slam the laptop shut, a thunderous clap in the quiet room. My mind races faster as everything about Eva starts to make a helluva lot more sense. How could I have missed the signs?
She’s scared of water. Of flying, which would make sense after she was in a car that skidded off a bridge.
“Commitment-phobe.” I pace the room. Eva’s not afraid of tying the knot; she’s terrified of the noose of guilt tightening around her neck every day. And here I was, thinking it was just about me.
I grab a half-empty bottle of water from the coffee table and take a swig. I’ve seen her jump through hoops to please her dad, to be the rock Paige can cling to.
I toss the bottle back onto the table, where it lands with a pathetic thunk. The way she hovers over her father like he’s a king. The way she flinches at the thought of letting anyone down, even if it means working through piles of case files until she forgets what the sun looks like.
I feel the weight of her world pushing down on me too. She’s got a lot to figure out, a lot of healing to do, and I hope with everything in me that she can start that process now. She deserves to be free of this—to be happy—and she could be happy with me.
But I laid it all out on the line for her, and she knows how I feel, so there’s nothing more I can do to help her. Even if she wanted to be with me, I don’t think she’s in the mental space to be with anyone right now. Which is both freeing and saddening, all in one.
Maybe someday?
It’s time to focus on the mess that’s my life—I need to save my parents’ business, and not by relying on Groomsman to Groom or by selling my condo.
It’s time to get smart.