“I thought you just needed the colors to match?” he asks, reaching for the buttons on the jacket.
“I want to be sure your shirt is the right type of white, you know?”
He removes the suit jacket and throws it on the nearby couch. If I thought he looked impressive before, the way the white crisp shirt stretches across his chest makes him look absolutely delectable.
Stalking toward me, there’s nothing but purpose in his eyes, each step making it harder to breathe. He holds his hand out to me. “Dance with me.”
I place my hand in his and let him pull my body against his. The connection between us is palpable. Standing closer than we ever have, I hear his heart answer every beat mine makes. Our chests rising and falling in sync with one another. He moves his mouth to my ear. “I want you to look at me like that everyday,” he whispers.
“Look at you how?” I tease.
“Like you own me.”
We continue to dance, with words about tragedies and magic humming in the background. I wrap my arms around his neck and lay my cheek to rest on his shoulder. His hands comfortably resting on my lower back. It’s in moments like this where kissing him is the only thing I can think about. If he continues to whisper things that make my skin erupt in goose bumps, I may just have to throw caution to the wind and let nature take its course.
With each sway, the magnetic pull between us feels stronger; more powerful; and as usual, he and I are on the exact same wavelength. “When are you going to let me kiss you?” he asks.
“I don’t know if I have an exact date for it,” I say as a joke
“Just answer me this, do you want me to kiss you?” he asks.
“More than you’ll ever know.”
“If I kiss you, will you run?” he asks. “Because you need to know, Evie. If you plan on running, I plan on catching you.”
“Promise?”
“With every beat of my heart.”
* * *
It’s dinner rehearsal night, and it’s the first time I’m meeting Evie’s family. To say I’m nervous is an understatement. It’s not unusual to want to be better than the guy before you, but it’s fucking impossible to know what you’re up against when you know nothing about him. I had been hoping she would’ve opened up to me about James by now, but I’m still waiting. The longer she takes, the more uncomfortable I become.
I arrive at her place with plenty of time to spare. Courtney and Elliot catching a ride with us.
As soon as I walk in, I see Elliot sitting on the couch with a beer.
“Rough day, man?” I ask.
“Seriously, how long does it take them to get ready? I’ve needed to piss for a fucking hour and I can’t even use my own bathroom.”
“What? Why?”
“Apparently they can’t share the bathroom mirror. So Court is in my bathroom and Evie is in hers,” he says. Annoyance in his voice.
“Guess you can’t wait to get your own place then.”
“I’m counting down the days.”
Evie’s voice interrupts us, “Okay, I’m ready.”
Elliot’s eyes widen, confusing me before I’ve even had the chance to turn around.
“Fuck.”
“What, do I look bad?” she asks, beginning to panic. I want to tell her she looks exquisite but the words are stuck. I see Elliot from the corner of my eye walk off and into the bathroom where Courtney is.
“God, no. How could you even think that?” I ask, finally finding my voice.
“Then why are you staring?”
“How can I not stare?” I make my way to her. “You look breathtaking.”
She smiles, and her face lights up just for me. Her royal blue dress accentuates every perfect curve on her body. From the swell of her breasts to the dip in her hips, Evie is all woman. Her chocolate colored hair cascades around her face and down her back in loose curls; the perfect contrast to her exposed shoulders.
“Gosh, I’m so nervous,” she says, while straightening my tie.
“Why?”
“It makes me sound like a complete weirdo, but I haven’t been around this many people in such a long time.”
“It doesn’t make you sound like a weirdo. I’m sure, you’ll do great,” I tell her. “You know most of them, don’t you?”
She rests her palms on my chest and the energy between us heightens. I do my best to focus on what she’s saying, but I want to keep her hands there for as long as possible.
“I do, but…” she takes a deep breath, “But so much has happened.” I know what she’s implying without needing to go into detail.
“What’s the worst thing that can happen?” I ask.
“I don’t know, I just don’t want anyone to look at me strangely, or bring something up I don’t want to talk about.”
“I’ve got a plan, do you trust me?” I ask.
“Always.”
“Okay, close your eyes.”
“Okay,” she mutters under her breath.
“Take a few deep breaths for me, keep your hands on my chest, make sure you’re concentrating on my heartbeat, okay?” I watch her chest rise and fall, and wait patiently till her nerves start to calm down. “Keep your eyes closed,” I insist. “Whenever you feel out of place or nervous, just think of this.” I take a deep breath and cup her cheeks with both my hands, it’s now or never. I lower my head and softly press my lips against hers. I don't want to scare her, but there's no way I could go on for one more day without knowing what it feels like to kiss her. I feel the shock jolt through her body, fully expecting her to pull back. But she doesn't. Her lips part ever so slightly, and she ever so softly moves them against mine. One of her hands grabs my tie and pulls me closer. My hold on her face gets tighter and the kiss deepens. Tentatively, our tongues begin caressing one another, each stroke a new beginning. I could do this forever and I would be content.
A cough from the other side interrupts us and a shy Evie immediately buries her head in my chest.
“Nice to see you guys haven't forgotten how to kiss, we've been waiting forever to see it happen,” Courtney says.
“Only Court has been waiting,” Elliot says.
“Guys,” I interject. “Can you give us a little privacy please.”
“Fine,” they say in unison. Leaving the apartment as quickly as possible. As soon as the door clicks, I wait for Evie to come out from hiding, praying she doesn't regret what just happened. When her eyes finally find mine, I sigh in relief.
“Was that ok?” I ask.
She bites her bottom lip. “That was more than ok.”
20
Lior
My teeth are clenched and I’ve reached my limit. My blood has been simmering beneath the surface, trying to work out whether to say how I feel, or just sweep it under the carpet. But here we are alone in her apartment, and I can’t see myself moving forward with this unless I lay it out on the table for her. It's like the kiss earlier never happened and the progress we made got thrown out the window.
“I’ve tried so hard not to push you, but don’t you think it’s time?” I ask her.
“What?”
“James,” I say a little more forcefully. “Don’t you think it’s time you spoke about him? Or we,” I motion my hands backward and forward between us, “spoke about him?”
“I don’t know what to say?”
“Fine, I’ll start talking,” I spit out. “Do you know how it feels to be at your mom’s rehearsal dinner and have people know a lot more about you than me?”
“I’ve known a lot of those people my whole life. I can’t help what they know.”
“Evie, that’s bullshit and you know it.”
She lifts her head up and her eyes meet mine. She’s mad. I can see the indecision written on her face. Whether to fight or flight.
“These people know all the things I’ve been waiting for you to want to tell me.”
“I’ve told you the important things.” Her voice lacks all the emotion I expect. My tee
th are painfully grinding against one another as I hold back the anger bubbling underneath the surface.
“Fuck that, Evie,” I say. My voice harsh and gravelly, giving away everything I’m trying to hide. “You shared a life with him, loved him enough to marry him and want a family with him. That just doesn’t disappear because he did.”
I walk toward her, I reach for her and she turns her body away. “Don’t.” I’ve never seen her so distant. I know it doesn’t really have anything to do with me, but my ego is hurting. I need some sort of sign that this is moving in the right direction. We’ve been moving forward, but every now and then he pops up and it makes it impossible. It’s the one thing I need her to talk to me about so she can finally be mine. Am I being unreasonable?
“Every time someone says his name, you shrink back into that woman I met months ago, and it fucking kills me to see something have so much power over you.” I grab her shoulders and squeeze them. “You’ve come too fucking far to take ten steps back.”
“It’s my life, Lior, and my choices. You can’t make me talk about it,” she challenges.
“And what about our life, huh? I’m waging a war with dead people. I don’t know what I’m fighting against or fighting for anymore.”
“Don’t make one thing about the other,” she argues. “They’re two separate things.” As soon as the words leave her mouth I shake my head furiously.
“No, they’re not.” I slide my hands down to hers, using them as leverage to pull her closer so her body is directly in front of mine. I lift our hands so they sit in between our chests and hold on to them tightly. I let the feel of her skin on mine center me. Ground me. With each breath, I know this is worth it.
Her eyes have always been the most expressive part of her. When her body language and her words tried to push me away, her eyes always told me to stay. I need her to look at me because her eyes won’t lie to me.
Finally her brown meets my blue, and I see her resolve waning. “How many different ways are you going to make me say I’m falling for you, before you realize how serious I am?” She bites her bottom lip at my confession, her eyes pooling up with unshed tears. “I want to touch, hold you, and worship you. Is something wrong with that?” She shakes her head. “I keep thinking if I give you every part of me, you’ll feel comfortable enough to give me all of you. Some days, like right now, I don’t know if you really want it.” The tears finally give way and they begin rolling down her face. Instinctively I release my hold on her hands, cup her cheeks and use my thumbs to wipe away the proof of her pain. I lock my gaze on hers, hoping the truth in my eyes soothes the pain of what’s about to come out of my mouth. I apply a little bit of pressure to her cheeks and let the truth flow. “He’s here. Right in the middle of us. All the time. And I don’t want to be this asshole that asks you to choose between him and her dead husband; because it isn’t like that.” Evie lifts her hands and places them on mine, urging me to continue. “I know this is unconventional, and for the most part, we’re just two people who spend a lot of time with one another, but I want more. I want a life. I want love, and I want it to be with you.” My tongue feels heavy, my throat parched from anxiety. I pray for the first time in a long time this doesn’t push her away.
“I don’t want to replace him. I just need to know if there will ever be room for both of us.”
Her shoulders start to shake and the tears fall faster. She lowers her head and our hands fall, both our thoughts and our bodies no longer connected.
“He just left,” she whispers. “I knew he was hurting, we both were, but I never thought he would take his own life. When we decided to start a family, we had no idea what was in store.” Every breath she takes is labored as she picks at her cuticles and gathers her thoughts. “It’s like the universe is playing a sick joke on you. I spent so many years avoiding an unplanned pregnancy, for someone to later tell me it probably wasn’t going to happen for me.” She looks me straight in the eyes and continues, “We both started out wanting it so bad, and then after several months of nothing, I’d already had enough.” She’s getting herself worked up with every memory she relives. I’m petrified I’ve pushed her too hard.
“But I knew how badly he wanted it. He wanted to bring a child into this world and give it the life he never had. You have to know, James had so much to give.” It’s the first time she says his name and the reverence and love is impossible to hide. “His heart was huge. He had room for everyone and everything, but the one thing to complete him, I couldn’t give.”
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “I loved him so damn much. I would’ve put myself through anything to have given him what he wanted, and eventually I did. I went to hell and back for him, and it wasn’t enough. It started after our first miscarriage.”
We’ve spoken about Bella, but we’ve never spoken about the events leading up to her death. Any memory with James isn’t something she ever brought up. But now, bit-by-bit I’m starting to put all the pieces of the puzzle together.
“Then there was a second, and then Bella.” She gets up off the couch and starts pacing around the room, working herself up. “She died, and we stopped existing. Maybe it was naive of me to think we would eventually come out the other side. But I never thought he would just leave.” Her voice evens out. “What about me? Was I not hurting? Was I not struggling too?” I’ve seen sad Evie but I’ve never seen angry and hurt Evie.
She walks to her bag. “He left me this note. When I found it and read it, I hated him. It’s irrational. I know that, but I can’t stop. I keep it with me and read it once a week. Once a week for almost two fucking years, hoping to understand it from his perspective. All I keep thinking is if I couldn’t give him a baby, I wasn’t worth hanging around for.” She hands me the letter. “Read it.”
“That’s not for me,” I say handing it back.
“You want to know about James. This is James, Our whole marriage had come down to me being able to conceive. I was no longer the woman he was head over heels for. The one he swore to take care of through thick and thin. Where was the man I loved? Where was the guy who told me he would slay dragons for me, just so I could have my happily ever after?”
She walks backward till the back of her legs hit the couch. I watch as she sits down, lays her head back and closes her eyes.
“After he died, I took myself back to the doctor that tended to me in the hospital with Bella. I begged him to allow me to have a hysterectomy.”
I can’t do anything but stare at her, no matter how much I want to wrap her in my arms and make sure she never gets hurt again. But I begged her for this. I wanted to hear her story. And no matter how small and defeated she looks, it needs to be told.
“You know they don’t encourage healthy women to get hysterectomies? My mom and sister were horrified that I even entertained the thought. We fought about it for weeks as they struggled to understand my logic.” She opens her eyes and continues to stare at the ceiling. “My mom said, what if you ever meet someone and want to have kids with him? Why couldn’t she understand it didn’t matter if I met someone. I was the problem. I was broken. I didn’t work right.”
With every insult she delivers about herself, my heart aches just that little bit more.
“If suicide was an option for me, I would’ve done it. I wanted to be rid of all my memories - anything that triggered a thought about James, me or Bella - I wanted it to be gone.” Hearing her utter the word suicide is like a punch in the gut. I never want to imagine a world without Evie in it.
“There’s not a day that goes by where he isn’t on my mind. Some days I miss him, some days I love him, others I’m so damn angry I want to hate him.”
And there it is. Her indecision that makes me feel so fucking unsure.
“You haven’t asked me,” she whispers.
“Ask you what?”
“If I went ahead with the hysterectomy.”
“What does it matter?”
“Don’t you want to b
e with someone who can bear your children?” she asks.
“Right now I just want to be with someone who wants me as much as I want her.”
21
Evie
It’s been the longest four days of my life. Four days where I’ve messaged Lior our three same messages everyday and I get nothing in return. The minute he walked out of my apartment that night I knew I couldn’t live without him, but he was right. There was still so much I had buried inside and if I didn’t deal with it, I was never going to be able to move forward. So while I gave Lior the space he indirectly asked for, I’ve put all my remaining energy into something I should’ve done a very long time ago. I look at the time and continue to set up the boxes on the dining table. Elliot will be home soon and I’ve got some things he would like to see.
The doorknob rattles and I realize I fell asleep while waiting, I quickly jump up; wanting to see Elliot’s reaction to the surprise I have ready for him.
He walks in, and I watch his usual routine take place. He puts his keys in his bag while walking to his room, where he drops off his bag and changes into something more comfortable. He comes out of his room to make coffee. On his way to the kitchen he passes the table.
“What’s this?” Mission successful.
“Even though I was adamant at the time for my mom to chuck all of James’ stuff, I knew deep inside she didn’t. So, I asked her to bring me what she had and I thought you and I could go through it all together. What do you think?” I watch as his eyes look over specific items I’ve already pulled out of the boxes. While his face is currently unreadable, I know his heart is extremely grateful. He sits on one of the dining room chairs, burying his head in his hands, I watch him compose himself in silence. His shoulders rise and fall, then finally he looks at me.
“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” he says.
“Yes I did,” I insist. “I should’ve done this eighteen months ago. It was selfish of me to trivialize your grief.” Between Elliot and Lior I realized how detrimental my approach to grief really has been, not because of how I chose to grieve but rather my non-existent empathy skills. Along the way, I forgot my actions impacted others. I know nobody expected me to think of the future when I was so immersed in my present, but even up until last week I only thought about how I would feel when I finally spilled all my secrets. It didn't even cross my mind that Lior would have concerns or insecurities. Or that his feelings were even an option. What kind of person does that make me?
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