41 EVIE #2
He cocked his head and smiled a little. “It’s okay; just hold my hand tight. We’ll jump right into the car.” He reached out. I saw Alex stop and turn around, watching. I avoided his eyes.
“No, that’s not what I mean. You don’t understand. I can’t go with you.” I stepped back.
He froze and then turned to face me. “What are you talking about?”
I looked over Carter’s shoulder. “Fred, tell the guys to get my bags and leave them here, please.”
Just get through this, Evie. Let him go.
“I’ve been trying to talk to you since I got here. But I ...” Just then, a cramp sent a shock of pain through me, along with a flash of fear. I swallowed hard to cover it.
His eyes narrowed, watching me closely. “Evie, I don’t know what’s going on. But let’s just go, and we’ll talk about it on the plane. Is that okay?”
“I haven’t seen you in weeks, Carter, and I’ve had to beg you for every precious second I got you on the phone.
You knew I needed to talk to you. Was it too much to ask for five minutes of your time?
” I hissed, barely recognizing my own voice.
I needed him to believe me, because otherwise he would fight for me.
And I couldn’t let him do that. He looked wounded and surprised by my outburst. But how could he be surprised when, after all, everything I’d said was true?
I’d felt like I’d been the last person on his list of priorities for weeks.
“Is this what you’ve been trying to tell me?” he asked gently. “Evie, please ... look. You’re right. I’m so sorry.” He glanced again out the door, while Fred watched on.
“This is what’s best for you, but not for me. Not right now.” I pushed on. “Just go on the tour. You’ll be great. I’ll stay here. I ... I just need some time. To do my own thing.” I felt like I was tearing my own heart out.
A fresh look of surprise and hurt crossed his face. “Time to do your own thing? Where is this coming from? I thought this was what you wanted as well?”
I shook my head. “I thought it was. But it’s not. I’m sorry.”
“I know this has been a miserable couple of weeks,” he pleaded, “but I promise it’ll get better.”
I stood my ground, willing my feet in place. To breathe slowly.
“So just like that,” he said. “Here. In this bloody lobby. You’re doing this?”
He reached out one last time just as the doors opened and a mass of people swarmed.
In one smooth motion, a bodyguard moved Carter along into the throng.
He looked back at me, the moment frozen, as I stepped away, letting him continue on without me.
Fans filled the void between us, and he disappeared behind them.
Fred looked over at me, met my eyes, and held them tight before getting into the passenger seat. A moment later, I saw Alex open the car door, searching until he locked eyes with me, where I stood on the steps above the crowd. His look of concern turned to frost.
A sob emerged from me for just a moment before I clamped it down.
From elsewhere in the lobby, my father appeared, walking toward me. “What are you doing? Where are they ...”
“They’re going back to the UK,” I told him. I stared at the car as it was pulling away. Willing myself not to run after it.
“But what about ...” He looked at my stomach, then launched forward. “Hey! You can’t just leave like—”
“Stop!” I said, grabbing his arm. “I told you, Dad. It’s not like that. And you don’t understand. Just go.”
He pushed past. “But—”
I said it quickly. It just came out. “It’s not Carter’s baby.”
He stopped short and turned around, confused. “What? But then who the hell ...”
“It’s Steve’s.”
His head dropped backward as he groaned. “Steve Hutchinson? Aw, Evie, you’ve got to be kidding me. You mean to tell me that you had a rich, famous rock star in the palm of your hand, and you threw it all away for some varsity-letterman pretty boy? From high school?”
I remember going completely numb. Speaking flatly as I told him, “I was home during the holidays, and we spent some time together. He doesn’t know yet. I’ve been waiting to tell him; I just needed to figure out a few things first.”
What I’d needed was to figure out a way to say goodbye to Carter. I just hadn’t wanted to admit it to myself.
He groaned again in frustration. “People always said you were sooo bright.” He sneered.
“The Hutchinsons, of all people.” He spat the word out.
He detested your dad’s family. Resented them not only for the way they’d helped me but for everything they represented.
“Well, that just figures.” He sighed. “And what about your job?”
“This was my last day working with the record label, and they’re all heading back. I think they’re bringing someone in with more experience to finish the rest of the job.”
Of all things, this, of course, he didn’t question.
Just then, a cramp gripped my stomach without warning, followed by terror.
It’s okay, I told myself, numbing just as I’d done as a child.
It’ll all be fine.
But would it?
The truth was, I had no idea where I was going to go. Or what I was going to do next. I was only beginning to see the ramifications of what I’d done.
“Ev? You okay, peanut? You don’t look ...”
Everything went blurry, and an hour later, I was in a hospital bed with an IV hooked to my arm, staring blankly out the window, my father sitting beside me as he called your dad.