5. Evan #3
“That’s not something to be ashamed of. Stop trying to claw your way out of the guilt.
It’s OK to love him, just like it’s OK to hate her.
The two are completely separate issues. You’re beating yourself up because you’re connecting the two.
Stop. It’s OK, man. I promise you’re perfect.
Everything you’re doing is good. I know you, E.
I know you’re an incredible dad. That’s all that matters.
Not how he got here, just that he is, and he is safe.
You gave him that.” I thumbed his tears away.
“And Rosalie knows that, too. Stop beating yourself up. Please.”
His bottom lip trembled. I released him, and he looked down at his hands.
“He likes the Ninja Turtles,” he whispered.
“He’s silly and funny. He wears two different shoes because he’s indecisive.
He colors on the walls because he wants them to have more meaning.
Sometimes we make pancakes and try to shape them into dinosaurs, but I’m a terrible cook.
The batter tastes awful and is runny, and they always look like blobs instead.
He laughs and says they’re monster dinosaurs, even though I know he’s disappointed that I can’t make a fucking brontosaurus for him.
He’s an incredible artist, and he likes to sit and play the piano with me.
If I didn’t know who his mother was, I’d think that Rosalie added something to the gene pool. ”
I smiled at his description of his boy.
“He sounds amazing, man.”
“He is.” He looked at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “He’s the fucking best.”
“He has the best dad,” I murmured.
E let out a little laugh, a sad smile on his face. “I’m sorry. I came in here to kick your ass and tell you to fuck off forever, but damnit. You always did have a way of making everyone love you.”
“It’s my personality,” I joked softly. “My mom always told me I could charm the skirt off a nun.”
E laughed softly at that. “She wasn’t wrong.”
“Still hate me?” I asked, smiling at him.
“Fuck you,” he said, chuckling. “Yes. But I’m working on it. I hate you a lot less now. It comes in waves.”
“Then call me the sea.” I squeezed his hand.
He wiped at his eyes with the other one. “You’re going to tell Cole and Enzo?”
I nodded. “Yeah, man. I am. They’ll hate me, too, but it needs to happen.”
“If we didn’t bury you, who did we bury?” he asked after a moment of silence.
I chuckled softly. “Morbid as it is, you buried one of my old football jerseys. Thought it was fitting since that life was over.”
“We’ve been going to the cemetery to visit your dirty fucking laundry for five years?” E stared at me.
I shrugged. “Yeah.”
“What the fuck, man?” He let out a laugh that made me grin. “God, you’re an asshole. I do fucking hate you. This just made it worse.”
I smiled at him. It felt good to be in the room with him. A lot had changed for both of us, but he was still E, only a stronger version now.
“I needed this,” he said, staring at me again. “Thank you.”
“Of course.”
“I am still going through the shock of you being alive, so it might take me some time, but I really do hate you less now.”
“I know. I understand.”
He nodded. “Take care of Rosalie, OK? No matter the outcome here. She’s one of the best parts of this fucked up world. Maybe once I have my shit sorted and feelings in check, I can…” his voice trailed off. “Well, we’ll see.”
“OK.” That was acceptable to me. He hadn’t taken joining us off the table, and honestly, I wanted him to take his time with it. It was a big step.
He got to his feet, and I followed.
“Have you considered an eye patch?” E asked, nodding to my fucked up eye. “Since I gather that you don’t like anyone to see it.”
“No. Actually, I never thought about it before, but that’s not a bad idea.”
“Well, I have my good idea moments. World won’t be so dark that way.”
“I actually use contacts sometimes, but they feel weird and make me… upset.”
He raised his brows at that.
“It’s the having something in my eye,” I mumbled. “Reminds me of the torture.”
A pained look crossed E’s face.
“It’s something I should work on, though. I can see out of it a little. Maybe there’s a surgery or something for it, but I haven’t looked into it. Figured I liked the possibility in my head, but was scared of the reality if I was told there was nothing that could be done.”
“Not to poke a sleeping bear, but Cole is a doctor. A damn good one. He might be able to help. He knows a lot of really talented people in the field, and is one himself. If there’s anyone who could help you, it’s him.”
“I’ll, uh, keep that in mind if he doesn’t kill me for real when he sees me.”
“He might,” E said, his voice serious. “Or he might ask you to partner up in his cat rescue. Honestly, he’s all over the place these days.”
I chuckled at that. Sounded like Cole.
“By the way, congrats on Mayfair and graduating. Doctor Masters.” I smiled at him.
He let out a soft huff of laughter. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”
“I’m proud of you. I know I’ve said it, but I mean it. So fucking proud.”
His eyes misted over. “I’m proud of you, too. A movie? Book deals? Truly incredible… Fox.”
My bottom lip trembled.
He leaned in and hugged me. “You’ll always be Fox to me,” he said softly. “I loved Fox. I really fucking hate Evan.”
I laughed and hugged him back. “Noted.”
We broke apart and stared at one another for a moment.
“We’ll talk soon,” I said.
“Yeah. Maybe.” He gave me a sad smile before leaving me alone in the office.
We’d talk soon. I knew we would. It might be rough for a bit, but we’d get there.
I didn’t need to be magical to know that.