When no answer came, Calvin took a seat in the wooden chair at the foot of her bed, watched as she sat up, pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She glanced over his bare chest, paused before looking away.
He shrugged. “I didn’t have a shirt.”
Wordlessly, Evie slid off the bed and strolled toward him.
His pulse quickened.
She bent over to the dresser and opened the bottom drawer. “Here,” she said flatly, handing him a familiar sweatshirt. One she’d fished out of his closet one night, borrowed to keep her warm on the drive home.
“Thanks,” he said, after pulling it on.
Evie sat on the edge of her bed, facing him with a pained expression. “Last night you said there was something you needed to talk to me about.”
What was she doing? “Evie, you want to talk about last night? Don’t you want to talk about what happened today? That was pretty frightening. You don’t have any questions about how all that happened?” Not that answering any of those questions would be easy, but he’d rather talk about anything other than the fact that he’d be leaving her, for good.
She rubbed her lips together before releasing a long sigh. “I’m more concerned about what you have on your mind, Calvin. What is it?”
Moist heat gathered on his palms. He smeared them against his shorts.
“Calvin,” she said. “You’ve been acting strange all week. You’ve been distant and cold. What are you trying to tell me?” Though her voice remained quiet, it carried a certain edge, sharp and pointed.
Why was she making this happen now, after what she’d just been through? He should have anticipated this, that Evie would challenge him. He knew her. Knew she wouldn’t be satisfied until she had answers. He remained quiet, watched as she pulled in a long, slow breath, blew it out through pursed lips. Though he could see that warm shade of green in her eyes, there in the lamp’s yellow light, the emotion behind them was colder than ever.
“I feel like you are trying to break things off between us,” she said. “Am I right?”
He opened his mouth for a quick reply, but then shut it. An audible gulp sunk past his tightened throat as he dropped his gaze to the floor. The beige strands of carpet looked oddly foreign. Had he never noticed it before? What else hadn’t he noticed?
His mind shot into overload. What else pertaining to Evie’s life had he missed? Yet with his next labored breath, Calvin realized it didn’t really matter. He forced a mental lid on his rambling thoughts and focused. “Just let me drive you to Jessica’s and we’ll talk about this later.”
She shook her head. “No. Let’s talk about it now. It takes a few short words, Calvin. So let’s hear them.” Her bottom lip quivered as she glared at him, daring him with the calloused look in her eyes.
“Evie…” He couldn’t remember what to say, how to think even. He could only think of the deep love he had for her. That, and the violent tear at the pit of his chest.
“Calvin, don’t try to let me down easy. If you still wanted to be with me you would’ve stopped me by now, so I know that I’m on the right track. Don’t try to put it off because you feel sorry for me, because of what happened today.” She stood up, moved closer to him as her voice rose. “You actually think that will be hard for me to get over? Is that what you think? I’m going to be up at night crying because of what almost happened to me at the track?”
Calvin watched as the passion, the rage inside her grew, spilled over into her words.
“There’s nothing that compares to losing you, Calvin. Not one thing.” She paused and looked him up and down. Her voice, only a whisper. “Yet, here it is.”
As tears slipped down her cheeks, a burning wave of guilt-ridden heat rippled over his skin.
Evie wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand. “What are you waiting for, Calvin? Let’s hear it.”
The sight of her was too much, so he looked away, focused on a withered plant just outside her window. “I think we were moving too fast,” he blurted. “You shouldn’t be in such a committed relationship, Evie. I mean, I’ve actually been waiting to buy a house because I’ve wanted you to have a say in it–like we’re ready to get married or something. I’ve practically planned out your entire life.” He shook his head in disgust, feeling the truth of that statement. “You’re too young for that.”
A glimmer of something new–something he couldn’t quite discern–flared beneath Evie’s gaze. “Am I?” Her voice was flat and cold.
“Yes.”
Silence followed. A pressing sort of quiet that urged him to ramble.
So he did.
And with each passing word, he felt more and more like the dying shrub outside the window, a lifeless shell. Evie was his sun–his most brilliant source of warmth and light–and he was cutting her out of his world completely.
“I should date other people too,” he said numbly, glancing up at her. “Plus I need to worry about work and finishing school. And I don’t want to hold you back if you want to switch universities, go out of state.”
She tilted her head. “Why would I want to switch universities?”
When he didn’t answer, her eyes grew colder still. An expression he didn’t recognize. A look reserved for someone else. Anyone but him.
Calvin held still as she stepped toward him and rested her hand along the edge of the open door. “I’ve heard enough,” she said. “You know, Cal, I don’t even recognize you right now.” She let out one, hard chuckle. “I mean, who are you right now? Seriously.”
He shook his head, glanced down for a moment, and saw her fingers curl up into fists. He forced himself to look back up, struggling to match the cold resolve in her eyes.
“I never figured you for a coward, but I guess I was wrong. You can’t even tell me the truth. You want me gone? I’m gone. But watching you flounder from one stupid excuse to the next is making me ill. So just get out.” Her anger was winning now, and for a second, Calvin faltered.
“Evie–”
“Calvin,” she interrupted, voice razor sharp. “Are you going to tell me the truth right now, or is it still going to be crap?”
Colossal hurt showed in the raging seas of her eyes. “Answer me.”
He forced himself to shrug, indifferent, knowing the gesture would enrage her further.
“Get the hell out of here, Calvin. I mean it.”
This was it. No turning back.
“Go!”
Calvin felt his body come to a stand. Somehow his feet moved forward–one after the next. He watched the shoes that carried him, wondering if it was really over. Something in his head, a foreign voice, spoke to his laden mind, you just broke up with Evie Wylder, the voice taunted. She’ll never be yours again.
He had to make it out of her room, get to the Jeep. Then he could pause, break down if he had to. But just as Calvin strode by her, took the final step beyond her room, Evie’s warm hands gripped his forearm.
Shock pulled the air from his throat. “Evie.”
“Don’t go, Calvin,” she said, face wet and blotchy.
Her cry–raw and exposed, thick with panic and grief–made the words even harder to hear. “Don’t leave yet. Wait.” She shook her head, gasped in a jagged breath. “Just. Just stay.”
He nearly gave in. Nearly pulled her into his arms and begged for forgiveness. He wanted to erase the horrid look of desperation from her face, tell her he felt the same. And for just a breath of time, he considered doing more. Imagined leading her to the bed, taking liberties he hadn’t before, taking all. He wanted to own her in every possible way. To make it definite, irreversible, and dare anyone to even try to take her away from him.
“I’m sorry.” Bringing Evie’s hands to his lips, Calvin kissed the back of her fingers, forced his gaze away from her face, and walked away.
Chapter Thirty
When she was younger, Evie had a favorite crystal drinking glass. Tall and elegant, she’d never owned anything so beautiful. The
set, an heirloom passed down to her mother, had disappeared along with her. But she’d left one behind. When asked, her father said Evie could have it, call it her very own.
Dad warned that the glass was delicate, that she’d have to be extra careful with such a fragile piece. And because she cherished it, regarded it as if her mother had left it behind on purpose, just for her, Evie was vigilant, mindful to handle it with care.
Yet one summer night after dinner, when Evie was eleven years old, a neighborhood friend came tapping on the screen door; she was missing out on a game of Ghost in the Graveyard out front. Dad wouldn’t let her go until she cleared the table, and sunlight was fading fast. So Evie sped through it, took loads of dishes to the sink at once.
Grandma and Grandpa Wylder had joined them that night, so there were more dishes than usual. And though she thought better of it, Evie stacked her crystal drinking glass atop a set of dirty plates. She’d walked slowly, carefully eyeing the treasure with each step, willing the piece to stand sturdy and weather the storm.
If the glass fell, it would most likely take some doing, and it probably wouldn’t be quite the same, but Dad would be able to piece it back together. Evie told herself that very thing as she detected the first hint of a wobble. But when it tipped off its base, tumbled over the plates and onto the hard, tile floor, the damage was devastating.
The sheer sound of shattering glass left her stunned. But the sight of it, the thousands of tiny slivers glistening in the amber glow of the setting sun took her breath away. She frantically eyed the floor, looking for remnants, parts she could piece together, but there were none. Only tiny shards that would cut at the touch.
The worst part, the thought that caused an unbearable ache in the center of her chest even still, was that she had caused it. She’d been careless, and paid the price.
But what had she done wrong here? What had she done to cause Calvin Knight–loving, steadfast and true–to walk out of her life? Leave her in a shattered ruin, left to pick up the pieces.
Focusing on the blur of her open doorway, Evie recalled the moment Calvin left, hating the way she’d broken down and begged him to stay. What a tormenting thought, a dark and terrible acknowledgment: Calvin Knight had stopped loving her.
***
“Evie.” Her dad’s voice was firm. “You really shouldn’t miss another day of school. You’re not making things any better for yourself.”
School? The week wasn’t over yet? “What day is it?” The pillow puffed around her face muffled her words.
“It’s Wednesday. And when was the last time you ate?”
She pictured the jar of green olives she’d smuggled into her room. The half-eaten bag of Doritos at the foot of her bed. “Um, I had some–”
“You need to eat.”
The mere mention of food made her groan.
“And take a damn shower already,” he said.
She looked horrible; she knew that. But it wasn’t the reason she hid herself from him. To look at her father’s face–to have him look at hers–would be too painful. Humiliating, even. She couldn’t let him see just how damaged she really was.
“Eve–”
“I’ll take a shower,” she said. “I promise. And I’ll do my online courses tomorrow, I swear. I just need one more day.”
After a long silence, he answered her plea with his retreating footsteps and headed out the door.
Relief washed over her just long enough for the pain to come back in a crashing wave. She curled her knees to her chest, immersed herself in the depths of it, and let the relentless tide drag her beneath the surface. She imagined sitting next to Calvin in the Jeep, pictured his handsome face, the way he smiled when he teased her.
Stifled sobs shook her body as she fought back the tears. She’d probably never see Calvin again, but even if she did, she’d seen him smile that way for the very last time. That smile would belong to someone else now–the mere thought crushed her chest with a crippling ache.
Similar thoughts burdened her as the day passed on. Still she lay in place, cursing the ruined state of her life. As the hours slipped away, yellow bands of afternoon sunlight slipped through the blinds and graced the far corner of her room, announcing Dad would be home soon. Following the strips of light with her eyes, she gazed over the oil painting Calvin had given her for her birthday. The young couple caught up in the storm.
Evie tried to imagine the painting without the man. A lone girl beneath the cloth, searching for solace. She eyed the blanket draped around her own shoulders, looked over the sorry state of her room, and considered the messy state of her life. She didn’t like it. Because she wasn’t some lost and helpless little girl. Sure, she didn’t have Calvin in her life anymore, but that didn’t mean she had to stop living.
She’d suffered long enough.
Now it was time to move on.
With a fresh sense of empowerment, Evie threw back the covers and came to a stand. Stubborn resolve fueled her forward as she marched out of the room, determined to put it all behind her. She’d hide every reminder of him. The sketches he’d drawn for her, the gifts he had given her. All of it had to go.
But first, she needed a shower.
She flipped on the bathroom light, cringing from the abrasive strength of it, and felt her chin drop when she saw her reflection: smaller-looking eyes, a red, swollen nose, and a mess of blonde, rain-matted hair. The sight made her feel even worse. She took brief pleasure in freeing the hair band from the knotted pile; she’d probably set some sort of record for having kept it in for so long.
When the water kicked on, Evie turned up the heat and breathed in the lovely steam, using it to heal and revive, reminding herself that she was worthy of the indulgence. Familiar scents of her berry shampoo and vanilla body soap almost made her forget, but she was quick to remind herself when that happened. Ever mindful of the fact that he was gone. Still, just like the other hardships in her life, she would get past this. She would move on.
Chapter Thirty-one
“You sure you don’t want to try some?” Parked in the alley behind The Castle, Kelly held a paper cup in one hand, a bottle of Vodka in the other.
Evie eyed the orange mixture in Kelly’s cup, and then looked into her smoky blue eyes. “Yeah. I’m sure.” She screwed the small, plastic cap on the orange juice and shoved the carton back in the grocery sack.
“Come on. You’re entitled. You were dumped.”
Evie shrugged off the comment. “Yeah, a month ago. I’m over it.” Though that wasn’t true. She might not speak of Calvin anymore, to anyone, but she missed him more than ever. She’d even taken to rummaging through the obituaries again. This time scanning for an entirely different face. “Why do you think I said yes to Tyler?” she asked, hoping the fact might prove her point.
Kelly tipped her drink back and paused to shudder. “Why did you say yes to Tyler? I thought you hated him.”
She did hate him. But Tyler could make her feel wanted again. At least for tonight. She shrugged. “I don’t know. Because he called, I guess. It’s not even a date, really. I’m just meeting him here. No biggie.”
Bright lights flashed through the back window as a car pulled up behind Kelly’s VW.
“I wonder if that’s him,” Kelly said.
Evie squinted as she looked back. “I wonder if it’s a cop.”
“No doubt. Crap! Where’s the lid to this stuff?” Kelly patted frantically around her seat.
“It’s down there.” Evie pointed at Kelly’s feet. “By the brake.” She reached over the stick shift, barely securing the metal lid in her grasp, and felt the base of the bottle knock into her back as she moved to sit upright once more. A splash of cool liquid spilled over her shoulder.
“Oh my gosh. Sorry, sorry, sorry.” Kelly eyed the wet spot on Evie’s shirt.
Evie looked down, nearly gagging from the smell as it seeped through to her skin. “Good thing I wore black.” She pinched the fabric, pulled it away from her to fan out the
strong odor. “Can’t believe you can actually drink something that smells like this.” She handed the cap to Kelly, eyeing the harmless-looking group piling out of the car behind them.
Kelly screwed the cap back on and took the final swig from her cup. “Let’s get this stuff in the trunk.”
The loud, blasting music set the tone as Evie followed Kelly onto the dance floor, scanning the club for Tyler. The pulsing vibration of the music traveled through the soles of her tall, black boots, made her want to dance.
While moving to the music, the beat changing from one song to the next, Evie continued to check the time on her phone, wondering why Tyler was taking so long to get there. She was patient for the first hour, but as the second hour passed by, song after Tyler-less song, the familiar flare of rejection kindled hot and potent within her. Was he actually going to stand her up? He was the one who’d texted her, initiated the whole thing.
Who cared? She’d just find somebody else. She wasn’t about to wait for him all night. In fact, Tyler was an idiot; she didn’t want to be with him anyway. What had she been thinking?
Lights beamed through the heavy scented fog as Evie scanned the club for someone else to misbehave with. Before long her eyes landed on a potential candidate. He was handsome, built, charmingly unaware, and seemed to have his eyes set on her. Perfect.
Men were such simple creatures, she mused as she flashed him a deliberate smile. She playfully exchanged teasing glances with the attractive stranger as he made his way to her through the crowd. Yet just before the dark-haired distraction was within her grasp, a brassy brunette with mile-high legs danced up alongside him, enticed him to stay. After a thorough look up and down the girl’s slender body, Evie’s prospect did just that.
Disappointment rushed in, coupled with yet another dose of rejection. A sudden desperation hit once she noticed Kelly was dancing with a guy of her own. As she searched the club again, hating Tyler more than ever for standing her up, a deep sense of loneliness–thicker than the dance fog–seeped through her head like a dark, heavy cloud. I’ll never be loved again. I’m not worthy of love. I never have been. That fear sunk deeper, deeper still until she sunk with it, into a low and empty place in her mind. She stood motionless on the busy dance floor, watching the nameless faces in the crowd, wishing she was home instead.
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