Chapter 33 C’est la mort #2
“No, it’s nothing.” She tried to muster that happy smile again, but it was only an echo of the one before.
“If you can’t get it, it’s not that big a deal. It’s nothin’ fancy.”
“It’s not that.”
“Well, what’s wrong?” he asked, an encouraging grin on his lips. “I’m realizing it’s not as easy for me to read you in New York.”
Eve scratched her forehead in a clear attempt at hiding her face before speaking. “How would you feel if…I come back a little later than we planned?”
Jamie smiled awkwardly, like she’d just spoken to him in French. “How do you mean?”
“I mean, I won’t be able to make it to Paris.” When he didn’t respond, she went on, “And I’ll probably need an extra few weeks to finish this draft, once and for all.”
He inhaled sharply, feeling himself deflate with every word that fell out of her mouth.
This was it. The moment he’d worried about since she decided to go home for Christmas.
The nagging premonition that she would slip away from him was fulfilling itself.
Her exciting New York life, her ex-fiancé, or whatever he was, had stolen her. It left his stomach churning. “I see…”
“I saw my agent yesterday, and she mentioned that my play is in conversations for some prestigious awards. It’s ridiculous, by my estimation,” Eve laughed. “But shit, maybe it’s not.”
“Sounds like a big deal.”
“It could be?” Her grin was slight and timid, as if she was waiting for him to approve. “I don’t know, but I just—”
“I knew you were gonna do this,” Jamie interrupted. “I fuckin’ knew it.”
Eve looked taken aback by his response, and he immediately felt like shit for being so severe. He wanted to be happy for her. He would’ve been on any other day. But he was self-aware enough to recognize that his patience was wearing thin.
“I’m not ‘doing’ anything,” she said. “I just need to focus on work for a bit. But I’ll be back.”
“When?”
“You want an exact date?”
“Ballpark it.”
“I don’t quite know,” she said. “I told Stella I’d have my draft done mid-January, so I should be able to come back to Tennessee for a couple of weeks after that.
But then I’ll need to gear up for Gamba rehearsals in February.
” She shook her head. “It’s all a little chaotic, I’ll admit, but until we figure it out, we can keep seeing each other on weekends. It can be just like it was.”
“I don’t want it to be like it was, Eve. I thought we were agreeing to move forward here.”
“And we are. We will. But it’s not like it would kill us to slow it down a little,” she said. “I mean, six months ago, I was engaged to someone else.”
Jamie couldn’t argue with that. He’d always wondered about that random late-night call from her ex, and now, he had to question whether this abrupt change of heart involved him, too. “What’s so different all of a sudden?” he asked. “You’ve been there a day.”
“I know. But being home…I’m reminded of what I left behind. It feels irresponsible to just pack up and leave again.”
Jamie nodded. “Do you think it was irresponsible to get involved with me?”
“That’s…not the word I would use.”
“I see…”
“We moved so fast,” Eve appended. She looked and sounded so regretful about it, he almost felt guilty. “And, Jamie, I love you. I meant that. But if we have any chance of making it, you cannot be the only good thing in my life.”
Jamie stopped to consider her argument. It hurt, but she was right. And it wouldn’t be fair to be mad at her for doing what was in her best interests.
But he needed to do the same. And maybe his best interests weren’t in someone who constantly treated him, and his son, as auxiliary to her real life. “You’re right,” he said. “You spent six months telling me you didn’t wanna be in a relationship, and I should’ve listened.” He did feel guilty.
“That is not what I’m saying.”
“No, I know. But…I think you’re right that a break is probably in order.”
It was Eve’s turn to deflate, her wounded expression matching the way she’d made him feel. “But I’m not asking for a break. I just want to keep doing what we’ve been doing.”
“A pause, a standstill, dress it up how you want. We’re not moving forward, right?”
“But it’s not forever. I just need time to do this, and then we can figure out the next move. The right move. For both of us.”
“I just introduced you to my son, Eve.” Jamie now scratched his forehead, attempting to hide his faltering facade. He couldn’t figure out whether to be mad or sad. “I can’t let him fall victim to your whims.”
“I’m not sure that’s fair,” Eve said. “You have to know that I didn’t agree lightly to meeting Jack. If you trusted me then, you should be able to now. I’m not Lucy.”
“No, I’m very clear on that,” Jamie said.
“You’re Eve, who told everyone in New York she’d be gone for ‘three months,’ and we see how that turned out.
Ignoring your agent. Your parents. You run from things.
” He felt bad for holding that against her, but he’d seen enough of her fickleness firsthand to know he couldn’t put faith in her promises.
“I don’t know how to trust that this isn’t just you running from me. ”
“Wow.” Eve laughed, but it was clear she wasn’t amused, tears surfacing before she could say anything else. “Wow…”
Jamie looked down from the screen, the picture of her with Jack staring back at him, reminding him of what a good time they had together.
Taunting him. Because before Eve, he couldn’t pinpoint the last time he’d had fun.
Of course, the joy of raising his son was unparalleled, but there had also been nothing quite like the small but potent thrill of being with someone he liked.
The heart flutter he got when he caught her feeling the same.
He hated that that wasn’t enough; not for her, and not for him.
But after Lucy, he simply could not risk being with someone who could hurt his kid.
“I’m sorry.” He swallowed visibly, the lump in his throat making his voice hoarse. “But for so long, I’ve been so willing to accept whatever I’ve been given. Even these…little pieces of affection from you. I can’t keep doing that to myself.”
“I, um…I’m gonna go,” Eve said. There was a tremble in her voice that broke his heart, and he continued to avoid the screen.
“I don’t mean to be harsh,” he said, “but—”
“No, I get it. You two enjoy your trip. And if you wanna talk after you get back…maybe after you’ve had some time to sit with it, I’ll be here.”
“Okay,” he said, nodding. “You take care of yourself, Eve.”
She ended the call without another word, the screen going dark just as traces of regret seemed to fill Jamie’s ritzy hotel room. It wasn’t lost on him, the irony of being in a place literally named for the idea of a utopia. Shangri-la . And here he was, entering his personal hell.
He hated irony.