Chapter Eight
Evan
“Hell is empty, and all the devils are here.”
The Tempest
My knees bounced nervously as I awaited my last in-person appointment with Dr. Price. I’d tried to take her advice to let go of the feedback loop in my brain, but fear doesn’t respond to logic.
Especially when my worst fears had been realized time and time again. Hell, things I hadn’t even known to fear had reared up to bite me.
When Elizabeth—or Liz or Lizzy or whatever she was choosing to go by—had first reacted to my message, I thought she had to be kidding. She’d acted like she liked me. She’d texted me.
Confused, I’d messaged back, I thought you might want to see me again.
Before shutting off my phone for the flight, I’d scrolled through her posts, finding no sign of Lizzy, though I could see a family resemblance in a couple of faces. Cousins, maybe? Did she have a sister?
When we landed, I’d planned on calling her so I could hear the tone in her voice, but she’d written, Why would I need to see you again?
It knocked my breath out.
I’d driven home, combing through my memories of that night, looking for clues I’d misread her intent. We’d had amazing chemistry, and I was convinced she’d been as interested as I was. Had she just used me for sex?
My anxiety spiked as I sorted through more nefarious explanations—like was this payback for ditching her in high school? Maybe she’d just changed her mind.
So I made moving plans and tried to forget about her. I didn’t know what else to do. She hadn’t invited discussion, but it made no sense to me. The worst part was that I had no closure.
At last week’s session, Dr. Price had told me I needed to honor boundaries and find something else to occupy my mind, and since I didn’t want to turn into a stalker, I took a deep breath and deleted her number and blocked her on the messaging app to remove any temptation to demand an answer.
Amidst all that emotional turmoil, I reconsidered the job in Charlottesville.
At least Elizabeth’s confusing rejection had the benefit of clearing up my motivations.
In the end, Charlottesville stood out as the best choice for me.
The simple truth was that the minute I’d set foot back in the Piedmont, I could breathe again for the first time in years.
The smells, the views, the weather, it all felt like a second skin, familiar—me.
And yeah, people who’d hurt me far worse than Elizabeth still lurked in the shadows of my hometown, but my bad luck hadn’t been isolated to high school, or even Virginia.
I was a magnet for awful people everywhere I went.
At least if I returned to the stomping grounds of my youth, I’d have a chance to reclaim it as my own.
So I sat in the waiting room, hoping Dr. Price would bolster my fragile resolve to leave Elizabeth alone, maybe tell me I’d taken my shot and should let it go.
I’d copy down some coping strategies to help me transition to a new town without showing up at Elizabeth’s front door like I needed a restraining order. Maybe Bas could be my sponsor.
My phone buzzed. I glanced up at Dr. Price’s door to verify she wasn’t about to call me in and checked the notification.
For a beat, my lizard brain hoped it might be from Elizabeth, but the message came from Kyan’s profile.
My spidey senses were right. I’m not sure what kind of prank they were pulling that night, but your Lizzy Grant is a fake. Remember Chelsea’s loco sidekick I told you about? Her name’s Elizabeth, and I ran into her just now. She confessed it all. Just thought you’d want to know.
The floor dropped out as I stared at the message, confused, certain he had to be mistaken. She’d definitely said we’d been classmates. She’d claimed to have a crush on me. What the hell?
Three dots appeared, and I waited until the next message loaded.
You must have made a good impression because she was asking me about you.
My head felt like it might split in two.
Right then, the door to Dr. Price’s office opened, and she paused to share a few words with her last client before turning to me. “Evan? You ready?”
As soon as I was seated, I blurted, “Can you be catfished in person?”
She leaned forward. “Would you care to elaborate?”
She already knew about my new job, and last week, I’d trauma dumped my unrequited second chance romance.
“The woman I ran into from my high school?” My mind was still reeling, trying to replay our initial meeting.
How had she known to impersonate Lizzy specifically?
The night played out in my head in hyper speed, and it hit me. “Oh, my God. I slept with her.”
“Right. You told me that last time.” She glanced at her notes. “Lizzy, right?”
“No, sorry. It was never her. It was—” I swallowed down the rising bile. “Who did I sleep with?”
“Evan, you have to catch me up.”
So I did. But it was like building a plane mid-flight, dropping the revelations as they came to me. “I just can’t understand why? Why’d she pick me for her con? Who does that? Why would someone pretend to be someone else randomly?”
“I don’t know, but let’s take this apart piece by piece, shall we?”
We spent the full hour analyzing how the news made me feel, and honestly, as confused as Kyan’s message had left me, it had at least cleared the air as to why Lizzy Grant was shutting me out.
And while I still had to sit with the gross hangover of shame and confusion from that entire thwarted conversation, I could at least start to separate it from the night I’d spent with this other woman. A woman I didn’t even know.
What replaced the fog of confusion was a pure burning rage. Elizabeth had taken something from me that I wouldn’t have knowingly given her: my time, my truth, my body. What kind of sick person does that?
I was so angry, I couldn’t even begin to touch on the hollowness such an obviously bankrupt fuck left me with. I’d thought she knew me, really knew me, but I’d been a stranger to her, just a face, a body, a hint of a person.
“Would you like some water?” Dr. Price asked.
I thought I might throw up. Elizabeth had lied to me. She’d tricked me into letting my guard down and infiltrated my defenses.
“Why does this keep happening to me?” I asked. “Am I such an obvious mark? Does the universe just hate me?”
She pressed her lips together. Right here, she’d normally tell me something about how fortunate I was, how I needed to focus on gratitude, but this was our last session, and maybe that’s why she said, “You’re right to be angry.”
I swallowed down a lump in my throat, “At least anger feels better than the embarrassment I’ve been torturing myself with for two solid weeks.”
“Anger isn’t a healthy place to remain either, but it can at least spur you to healthy action.” She narrowed her eyes, and I swore she was mad on my behalf. It felt good. “This woman owes you some answers.”
That shocked me out of my pity party. “Are you giving me permission to confront her?”
“You deserve clarity. She’s the only one who can answer your justifiable questions about her motives.”
She glanced at the clock on the wall. Our time was running out. “You have friends you can contact to work through this, right?”
“I can call my friend, Bas.” He might laugh at the situation, but at least he’d been there that night. He’d understand how fucked up it was.
She stood and led me to the door. “Good luck with this next phase of your life.”
We shook, and I wished I could just continue working with someone I’d grown to trust, but changing states meant changing therapists.
I drove aimlessly for about an hour, trying to untangle Elizabeth from Lizzy. I’d really liked the woman I’d met that Friday night, but I had no idea who she was. She’d never texted me again. Had it all been a joke?
Kyan had called it a prank, just like high school all over again.
Looking back, there’d been clues she wasn’t who she claimed to be. All those little details, from her eye color to her mistakes about the past. She’d adjusted whenever I’d corrected her, but I’d run on a lot of assumptions, wanting to buy what she was selling.
But I refused to take the blame for falling victim to her scam. She’d intentionally misled me, and for what? If all she wanted was a one-night stand, she could have just asked.
By the time I got home, I needed answers, so I sat on the edge of my bed, steeled my nerves, and texted her. It’s Evan. Can I call you?
Not really expecting a reply after all this time, I carried a box of donations out to my car, but I hadn’t even made it back to the bedroom door when my phone buzzed.
Elizabeth. I’m free right now.
I stared at the phone, debating whether I should dial, rehearsing what I might say. The call rang twice before it connected.
“Evan?” Her accent sounded different now that I was listening for it. Maybe that was my imagination. Would I ever separate her from Lizzy?
“Yeah. Hey, Elizabeth. Thanks for taking my call.”
“What’s up?” Her tone wasn’t angry, more curious. I guess I’d be wondering what was up if she’d called me out of the blue after two weeks of silence.
“Well, I guess the first thing is that I wanted to give you a heads up that I took a job in town, so you might be seeing me around some.” I gripped my phone, trying to sound casual. “At least on TV.”
“Okay.” She said it like a question, like she knew there was going to be more to this call than a courtesy. “Is that the opportunity you mentioned?”
I didn’t know why it surprised me she remembered. I couldn’t make sense of someone caring enough about me to listen while feeding me lies. “Yeah. I was interviewing at one of the local stations.”
“Oh, that’s great. Congrats.”
“Thanks. I figured it would be weird if you turned on the TV and—“
“When do you start?” she said over me, like this call was as uncomfortable for her as it was for me.
“Next week. I’m supposed to be on air a week from Monday.”
“Oh, cool.”