Mayluna

55 EVIE #2

I swallowed. “I just needed a little time. But then when I tried to reach you a while later, you ...” I stopped in surprise, caught off guard by the look of confusion on his face.

“Carter, I tried to call you, but your number was out of service. Your email came back undeliverable.” I shivered thinking about it.

I’d sat by the phone nervously for hours the day I finally decided to call him.

Rehearsing what I wanted to say. Stomach in knots.

When I first heard the error tone on the line, it cut through me like a shard of glass.

And then the email, the words on my computer screen: Undeliverable.

Address not known. And the sickening feelings of regret and loss that followed.

By the time I tried, it was too late, and I couldn’t reach him.

“We had to change all our contact info. We have to change it all the time,” he said distractedly before looking at me again. “Why didn’t you just try the label?”

“I did. Believe me. I left messages. With everyone I could. I waited,” I said and then shrugged. “I figured you didn’t want to hear from me. That’s when I knew that I’d lost you for good.” My eyes suddenly blurred with tears that I swallowed hard to stop.

He leaned forward. “What? Evie, why would you ever have thought that?”

“Because, Carter. I knew you. Knew how you operated. I’d been warned, after all.

‘A clean break, and it’s done.’ Remember?

‘Just forget her and move on, like it never happened.’ That was your big philosophy on breakups for the guys.

God, those words must’ve run through my head a thousand times.

Over and over. I guess I’d hoped I was different.

But when I didn’t hear back from you, I knew that it had happened to me.

And the worst thing was that it was my fault. All of it.”

Like it had never happened. That was the hardest part over the years. The knowledge that he had the capacity to remove me from his thoughts in an instant and would never think of me again. Losing someone’s love is heartbreaking, but to never exist again in their world is a pain like no other.

“Is that what you’ve thought all this time, Ev?

” I turned and quickly swiped a tear before looking back at him.

He shook his head and closed his eyes, then stood and came closer.

“I don’t know what happened. But I never knew you tried to reach me.

And I’m telling you, the last I heard from you was that day in New York. ”

We stood just a few feet apart, the past swirling between us, then suddenly, it was as if a dark veil covered his face and he was a stranger again. He looked away, and I was reminded again of how much time had passed.

We would eventually learn what had happened.

While Carter was lost in his own spiraling world in the months after we’d parted, my messages and a letter I’d written had all gone to Fred and Tommy and the others.

After a long talk, they’d made the difficult decision to keep everything from Carter, thinking it was better to let him move on.

An act of good intention that had forever altered our lives.

Carter went to the table and finished the water before opening the Knob Creek and pouring a scant amount in the glass—noticeably less than he would have poured years ago.

His slender back was long and firm as he lifted his arm to take a drink.

“Anyway, I suppose none of it really matters. I figured out what happened eventually.”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard you got married not long after that.” There was a little ice in the way he said it.

I startled a little, orbiting away from him to try to regain my composure. “You did?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his hand through his hair and turned back around to face me, looking weary in a way that comes from having old wounds revisited. “And that’s when I figured out what must have happened. Your old high school boyfriend—Steve, right? That was his name?”

He took another sip and picked up a second glass, offering it to me as an afterthought.

I shook my head. Something about the way he did it made me want to cry as I watched who he was now, compared to the warm and loving way he’d once been toward me.

The coldness of the gesture as he held out the glass.

Suddenly, I missed him more than I ever had before, though he was standing right there in front of me.

“Right. Steve,” I said eventually, still reeling that he’d known about it at all.

He walked over to a black road case and sat down.

“I was surprised at first. I didn’t think you wanted all of that.

You had so many plans.” He shrugged a little.

“But then again, I get it. I’m sure he offered you something .

.. something I guess you probably needed, something much different than this whole circus.

” He looked a bit tired and gestured to the world around us.

His world. “Something normal. I hope you guys have been happy. Really, I do. It’s all I ever really wanted for you, Ev.

” He tried to smile when he said it, but I could tell that it took some effort.

“Thank you.”

“It made sense; I don’t blame you. I remember you mentioning him back then. Never forget your first love, I suppose? I remember you spent some time with him that Christmas when you went home. I understood. It was probably better.” He took another slow drink, finishing the glass.

He had it all wrong.

“That wasn’t quite how it happened, Carter. Not at all.”

“No? So you didn’t leave me in New York and then marry someone else less than a year later?”

“No. I mean ...” I spoke softly. Too much had happened; I could see that now.

It was too late to make him understand. “I was a little lost back then. After things ended between us. I didn’t know what to do, where to go.

I guess I was just trying to move on. To do what was best for—” I stopped short, tensing a little.

“It seemed the right thing to do at the time.”

He nodded, staying quiet. I could hear the bustle of trucks outside and noticed a clock on the wall. I was surprised to see how quickly time was passing. I smiled in spite of it all, looking around the room, the sights and sounds feeling like a time machine.

“There are a lot of memories—being back here with you, after a show,” I said.

“A bit bigger now, though, yeah?” He smiled a bit but didn’t look up.

“Is it always like this back here now? Seems awfully subdued compared to the way it used to be.” He knew what I meant.

Just a group of guys doing their jobs. Gone was the jovial party of it all.

“Yeah, not always. But most of the time. We’re all pretty quiet these days.

We grew up, I guess. Tommy and Darren have families.

A lot changes. It’s hard to believe it’s been so long since we started all this.

We don’t have to hustle so much anymore.

We do a show. Get on a plane. Get some sleep and do it all over again.

Food’s better, though,” he joked. It occurred to me, with some importance, that this was the first time I’d thought about it this way.

That life might have somehow grown quieter for him, too, in some ways, instead of louder and bigger, as I’d thought.

I realized I’d imagined him all this time in the time capsule of our twenties, which wasn’t fair.

I walked over and sat closer to him.

“Do you have a good life?” he asked.

I paused before answering. “I do.” And then quietly, I added, “I’m a mom now. That makes me really happy.” In spite of the weight of it, I smiled instinctively at the mention of them.

He smiled slightly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s nice, Ev. Good.”

Tears pricked again, and I swallowed hard to force them back. “Two. A girl. And a boy.”

He smiled again, looking away.

“And I hear you’re engaged? Congratulations,” I said, attempting to sound cheerful about it.

The question seemed to amuse him for just a moment, and he opened his mouth as if to say something just as there was a heavy knock at the door.

I watched him walk across the room, noticing the way he moved, lithe, tall, and strong.

I felt like time was erased and I was back in my twenties. I looked away.

Fred glanced at us both. “Sorry to interrupt, but everyone’s heading out.”

“Okay, just give us a few minutes.” He closed the door and leaned on it with a hip, placing his hands in his pockets. For just a second, I saw him again—the sweet, younger version of him, a little shy, looking down at his shoes on the day we first met, and I couldn’t help but smile.

He cocked his head, curious as he seemed to notice the expression change on my face. “What?”

“Nothing,” I said, smiling even wider. “You just reminded me for a second of someone I used to know.”

Understanding my meaning, he laughed a little under his breath and shrugged, somewhat adorably.

“It looks like we’re leaving,” he said. “I’ve got to go.”

I had so much yet to tell him. And so much I could not. But time had run out. The weight returned, settling in the way that regret can. “Where are you guys off to next?”

“Nowhere tonight, actually.” He looked up at me as he said this. “We’re staying here in town and heading out tomorrow.”

“Oh.” The word came out in a higher pitch as a flutter went through me.

He took a step closer, and I began to feel the electric pull of him.

I took in the sight of him standing there, committing every detail to memory.

Then, as if both thinking the same thing, we closed the space between us, and he gave me a warm hug.

We stayed that way for a while, melded together with my head on his chest as he held me, his hand on the nape of my neck.

When eventually I pulled away just a little, I looked up at him and laughed nervously, wiping the tears from my eyes.

He looked down at me and for a second, I could swear it looked as if he were about to kiss me.

Though perhaps it had just been my imagination and the afterglow of times passed, because he took a step backward.

The familiar scent of him remained on me, and I clenched my teeth against the hurt and longing that came with it.

He reached his hand to his chin, watching me as neither of us spoke or moved to leave.

“We’re staying in a hotel downtown,” he said.

And then, catching me off guard, he added, “I know it’s probably late for you.

But I hate that I have to leave already. Would you want to come?”

“To the hotel?”

He laughed at the expression on my face.

“I just mean we could take a walk or something. Maybe get a drink or coffee.” For the first time, as I sifted through all that had been said tonight, I wondered if perhaps he had dreamed of me sometimes as well.

If he remembered what our hands looked like together, fingers interlaced?

Seeing him right then, it all came rushing back, and I knew that I wanted it all too much.

And I knew also that I could not have it, which was as painful then as the day I’d lost him.

More, maybe, because he was standing so close that I could touch him.

I knew that I couldn’t survive losing him a second time. I had people depending on me now. I swallowed hard and looked away to bolster my strength before looking back. “I should probably get home.”

I thought I saw a flash of disappointment in his face but wondered if I’d just imagined it. “I understand.” And then a little lighter, “You have a family to get home to now. Husband, kids, and all.” He moved away suddenly, collecting a few things from the room while preparing to leave.

I watched him move, wanting to close the space between us again. Drawn to him like oxygen after being submerged in water. “Well, no, not exactly,” I said then.

“No?” He turned as he located his phone and dropped it into his back pocket.

“I mean, yes. But”—I paused—“they’re with their dad tonight.”

He raised an eyebrow, confused.

“We’re not together anymore. Steve and I.”

The energy shifted, and he paused. The news seemed to jar him, but he recovered quickly. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “Really.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t clarify earlier. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

“It’s okay.”

He finished collecting his things and walked over to me, the expression on his face a little warmer perhaps.

“So why do you have to get home, then?” he asked as his eyes narrowed with a glimmer of mischief.

I laughed, buoyed instantly by the hint of the man I used to know as he stood a little closer.

I realized then that there wasn’t an actual reason for why I had to leave, and I shrugged.

“So,” he said, cocking his head to one side with a slight grin that took me straight back in time, “are you sure you can’t take that walk? ”