5. Evan #2
E released my hand before he shook his head. “I came in here to bitch you out.”
“I know.”
“Of course you do,” he murmured, giving another slight shake of his head. “Is this knowing always on, then? Like, you already know what’s going to happen, like Asylum does?”
I sighed. “No. It’s not like that. I don’t do what he does. I just… know. I feel. He’s more practiced at it than I am. He was trained. I wasn’t. I don’t want to be. I ignore it for the most part.”
“Can you feel Cole and Enzo?” he asked.
“No. I probably could if I tried, but I don’t want to.
I want people to have lives without my intrusion.
Anson is the same. We both practice shutting it out.
Sometimes it creeps in, but that’s all. We don’t seek it out.
I just want to be normal,” I admitted softly.
“So I push it away. I think the trauma triggered it more in me, and with that in mind, I push harder for it to go away because it’s a constant reminder of that time in my life. ”
“I get it,” he said, nodding.
I said nothing as I stared at him. God, he looked good.
So healthy and vibrant. For as long as I knew E, he’d always had that energy about him that was like a ghost haunting him.
He would smile, but the happiness wouldn’t be behind it.
Only Rosalie made the little gold bursts of happiness for him.
But now, he didn’t need her. He had found happiness without her, and I knew it was because he was so focused on his son.
He loved him deeply. He had a career, a purpose in life now.
“You’re reading me,” E murmured. “I don’t need to be gifted to know it.”
“You look good, E. I’m proud of you.”
He scoffed, a little smile on his face. “I have a good life now. Not that I didn’t before, but I have my shit together.
My son needs me. The guys need me. I wouldn’t want to burden them with my bullshit.
A part of me died, and I have no desire to resurrect it, so I moved on. I just… I miss parts of that life.”
“Rosalie,” I murmured.
“Always Rosalie,” he said sadly.
“She loves you, E. She always has. She misses you. We’re right here if you want to join us.”
He shook his head, a sad smile on his face.
“I’m not quite there yet. I have some shit I need to work through.
If I told Rosalie yes and then she met Laz and couldn’t deal…
It would kill me. I can’t do that to her, me, or Laz.
He needs a mom, and I know Rosalie would be perfect, but the history of his creation and the pain it created for all of us…
” His voice trailed off before he cleared his throat.
“He’s a little boy who is rough around the edges after having been raised by the guys and me.
His mother was an evil cunt who tried to kill him.
He doesn’t want to talk these days because his vocal cords were damaged when she tried to stab and cut him.
Kids at school make fun of him for how he sounds.
I just… I need to focus on him right now. ”
“I understand,” I said gently.
“He’s the best thing that ever happened to me, while simultaneously being the worst.” He shifted on his knees and went to his ass, pulling his knees to his chest, a frown on his lips. “The best part…” He let out a hollow laugh. “And that’s the part that makes me feel sick sometimes.”
A muscle tightened along his jaw.
“People want pain to be this simple thing with clean lines. The bad thing happens, and you hate all of it forever. But that’s not how this works.
” He rubbed a hand over his face. “What she did to me was wrong. I didn’t want it.
I said no. I was trapped, and if I told anyone, even now, about it, they wouldn’t believe a woman raped me.
They’d say I should have enjoyed it. That my dick was hard, so I clearly wanted it.
That I came, so I liked it. What was I supposed to do? It’s wrecked me for a long time.”
Silence stretched between us as I watched him drag in several deep breaths. I doubt he’d ever really gotten to talk this openly before. I knew E. He likely tried to hold himself together over the years so he wasn’t putting more stress on the guys. That’s just how he’d always been.
“But then there was him,” he continued softly.
“Enzo took care of him in the beginning. Played the part of his dad as he lived with Celeste. I stood back, pretending Laz didn’t exist. I got high to forget he was in the world, but then Enzo called me, begging me to come because Celeste was going to kill him unless I saw her.
Something inside of me began to fray. So I went to him. ” E wiped his tears.
“The first time I held my son, it was like my soul split open. He didn’t ask to be born from something so fucking ugly.
He’s innocent. He’s kind. When he laughs, his eyes light up.
He trusts me completely.” His voice cracked.
“He calls me Dad like it means safety. Like it means trust and all the fucking things I didn’t have growing up. ”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“So what am I supposed to do with that? Tell myself I wish it had never happened?” He let out a disgusted grunt. “Because if it never happened, he wouldn’t exist. And I would burn the whole fucking world to the ground before I erased my son.”
He locked his eyes on me, looking exhausted. I just wanted to hold him because I knew he needed someone, but I also knew he needed space just as much, so I’d give it to him if he wanted to talk.
“That’s the part nobody talks about when men go through this.
Sometimes trauma leaves you with something beautiful in the wreckage, and then you feel guilty for loving that part.
Guilty because somewhere in your head, loving what came from it feels too close to forgiving the sin.
” His green eyes lost their light. “But it’s not forgiveness. I will never forgive her.”
He paused and licked his lips.
“I hate what she did to me.” He lowered his voice with his next words. “But I love my son enough that if you asked me whether I’d endure the pain again and again to keep him in the world…” He looked away and swallowed. “Yeah. I would. And that truth eats me alive sometimes.”
“Loving your son doesn’t mean you wanted what happened to you.”
E said nothing as he stared at a point past my shoulder.
“You keep talking like those things cancel each other out. They don’t.
” I slid off my chair and sat with him on the floor, taking his hand in mine.
“Your son isn’t the crime. He’s just what came after.
And honestly? The fact that you became a good father after everything she did to you says more about who you are than what happened to you.
You survived unimaginable horrors, Ethan.
Instead of turning cold and cruel, you raised a little boy who feels loved and safe. Do you understand how rare that is?”
E let out a soft sob, and I moved to wrap him in a hug. He tried to look away from me as I broke away to cradle his face.
“Look at me, E.”
He still fought against my words and hands as he looked anywhere but at me.
“I said, look at me.”
He locked his bloodshot eyes on me, pain written on his face.
I knew he’d been grappling with these feelings for a long time.
That’s just how E was. He didn’t want me to see his pain.
He’d become a master at hiding it because he’d always had a mindset that he was an inconvenience to people.
It was one of the things I hated about him.
“You survived her,” I said. “You hear me? You’re a survivor, E.”
“Sorry,” he said, his voice shaking. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing for bleeding in front of someone after being stabbed?” I asked. “You have every right to your emotions.”
He tried to look away again, but I redirected him.
“No, E.” My voice was firm. “You don’t get to throw your pain at my feet and then run because I saw it. I love you, OK? You may hate me right now for my sins, but I fucking love you, and I am here for you.”
Tears trickled down his cheeks as he stared at me.
“I-I don’t know what to feel. I don’t know how to talk about this. Every time I try, I feel like I’m betraying someone.”
“Laz?”
He nodded.
“And yourself,” I finished softly. “E, man, you were hurt, and you loved anyway.”
He let out a soft sob as he stared back at me.