Beloved Evangeline (A Dark Paranormal Urban Fantasy Trilogy for Grown-ups - Book 1)

by W. C. Anderson

  “He told me to pretend to be his wingman, to treat it like that, to give me the courage to talk to you normally. And it worked... for awhile. But then, when you started withdrawing again, I don’t know, I snapped or something. I remember the exact night, the night you pulled away from me. Do you remember?”

  I furrowed my brow in confusion, trying in vain to recall.

  “We had all gone out for drinks at Magellan’s—me, you, Nicky, Gavin, Lyle, and, I don’t know, four or five other people from the office. I think it was about six months or so before Steve’s… party.” He looked uncertain for a moment but continued, “Everyone else went inside—thanks to Gavin—so I could be alone with you. For awhile I was worried that you’d rather talk to Jonathan than to me, the way you two were going on and on,” he paused and chortled darkly, “But then, when everyone was finally out of the way, everything was great. You and I were enjoying really great, relaxed conversation. We were sitting at what I thought was a romantic table outside, underneath the stars, with the glow of hanging outdoor lights surrounding us, sparkling off the water. It was a perfect early spring evening at my favorite restaurant by the river; I’d planned everything perfectly so I could finally confess. I even arranged for them to play Under the Milky Way by The Church—the most romantic unromantic song I knew you liked.”

  “We started talking about how much we both loved hiking and the outdoors, and your face lit up in my favorite way. You told me about all the plans you once had to hike in places like Europe and South America. When the conversation lulled and we both sat enjoying the music, I felt emboldened. I leaned in for the kiss, and to my shock and surprise, so did you. We were so close to kissing I could literally taste it—but at that moment there was a loud crash of fallen dishes behind us. You opened your eyes with such a look of shock and revulsion and disgust, obviously at what you had almost allowed yourself to do—kiss me. You were clearly embarrassed, flustered. You knocked over your drink and excused yourself, practically running away.”

  “I know I lost it then. I walked away from the table, like I had to walk away from you so many times since. I just couldn’t keep my shit together and knew I was just going to, I don’t know, explode or something, so I left instead. That night I left without even telling Gavin. He was actually kind of pissed when he found out I left him there. But it was like being this close,” he held his fingers up, indicating an infinitesimally small amount of space, “to my dream and having it yanked away from me. Do you have any idea how that feels, knowing that what I had dreamt of so intensely could never be? Worst of all was when we went back to work the next Monday—you acted exactly the same as you had before, like nothing had even happened. I ran through all sorts of scenarios to explain why you acted the way you did; none were appealing.”

  The memory of that night came rushing back. I remembered opening my eyes, seeing Simon, and being scared out of my mind, scared of making the same mistakes and hurting the people I cared about most. I had repressed the memory, and then stopped going out and thereby avoiding putting myself in any sort of situation where Simon and I might find ourselves together like that again. The reason was obvious—I had just prevented myself from considering or even thinking about it before: I was in love with Simon.

  I drew in a long breath. “I didn’t remember, Simon. I think I just didn’t want you to get hurt.” I said the words in a rush, too afraid of saying any more.

  “I know that now, Evangeline. You don’t need to explain. Besides, none of that really matters to me anymore since... I lost you. I saw you dying... blue and lifeless. They’ll never know for certain how long you were gone, but they worked on you for more than half an hour. They said you weren’t breathing and only had a faint, faint pulse. Even after they brought you back—you shivered violently for 16 straight hours. The hospital had never seen anything like it—I’d never been so scared in my entire life. And all I could do was to stand there watching, completely helpless, as you drifted farther and farther away from me.” He closed his eyes for a few moments.

  “Anyway, I wanted to explain my behavior to you. The point is, after that last night we had drinks, there was nothing I could do to make you laugh anymore, no matter how hard I tried. You had shut down, shut me out. I convinced myself that you knew, you saw through me, saw my desperation. It nearly did drive me insane, thinking that you knew I loved you and callously and purposefully shut me out anyway. I tried to act casually around you afterward, but couldn’t. Everything I said was tainted. I know that I was cruel... but I didn’t mean to be.” He looked at me pleadingly, “I just couldn’t get my feelings under control, and by trying to hide them, they came out wrong.

  “At first I thought it was just normal disappointment or anger over being rejected. But it gradually dawned on me that I just couldn’t take not being with you. Gavin finally set me up on a few dates, trying to distract me, to get my mind off of you. He thought I’d snap out of it eventually, but no. Those dates were complete disasters, and believe me, I probably needed a one night stand here and there for my sanity, but I just couldn’t do it. Those poor girls must have thought I was a total stalker. One girl excused herself to answer a call during our dinner and just never came back, the classic blind date horror story cliché. I don’t blame her, though. I hadn’t been able to stop talking all night... about you.”

  I wiped at my eyes—ridiculously, uncontrollably, girlishly soaked.

  “I tried again to tell you the last time I came over, after Steve’s party. I tried so hard, but I lost my nerve when I got here. You just looked so like a... rock star, a rock star after a night of partying.”

  I laughed nervously.

  “I’m serious. I’ll never forget how you looked as long as I live. You had on a short silk kimono robe, and unless I’m very mistaken, almost nothing else.” He fidgeted with his hands. “I was just stunned for a moment when you opened the door. I don’t know what I expected to see, but seeing you looking like that, I definitely wasn’t. I don’t remember ever seeing you even wear a skirt before, and don’t get me wrong, you always look really nice at work, but seeing most of your really long legs for the first time like that...” He shook his head and looked away for a moment.

  “What was I saying again? Oh yeah, and then you said, ‘What the hell are you doing at my house?’ Like nothing had happened. You brushed some crumbs or something off your robe, with this ‘deal with it’ attitude, and said so what if I had sex with Steve. And then, you had all this creepy shit in your house, that you live in by yourself, just the right, cool amount of pizza boxes and beer bottles strewn around—most girls are so fussy about clutter. Your house wasn’t dirty, just very rock n’ roll. And, I don’t know, I just totally lost my nerve, I felt then, or was afraid, anyway, that I could never stand a chance. I’d never seen anything that bad-ass in my entire life.”

  “At the same time, you looked so sad. I knew you hadn’t slept with Steve—I knew it. You don’t have it in you to do something like that. You would never stoop that low, no matter how sad or unhappy you were. Still, I did want to hear you say it, and you would not say those words. You were so rebelling against what I wanted you to do... like you always do... again, very cool but also very frustrating. I wanted so badly to make you feel better, to make everything okay. That was the most vulnerable I’d ever seen you—your guard was down completely for a few amazing moments. It only made me even more crazy for you...” He trailed off.

  I reached for Simon’s hand, with now uncontrollable tears over spilling onto my cheeks. None of my usual defense mechanisms against this silly, girlie show of emotion seemed to be working at the moment. “I really didn’t know or remember... I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I whispered. I wiped my eyes again, this time with my sleeve, but I just couldn’t seem to stop the tears from coming. “My life has always been a total mess. I thought I had to hide to keep the people I cared about from suffering. But even that didn’t work. I’m so sorry. I actually believed you hated me...”

&nbs
p; His brow furrowed. “Like I said, everything I did around you just seemed to come out wrong. I didn’t mean for it to be that way. I didn’t really realize it until Gavin told me I needed to cool it. I guess he was able to read your expressions a little better than me? You always seemed to respond better to him... and I’d be lying if I said there’d ever been a time that a girl actually picked me over him.”

  “That’s because.... I never had those feelings for Gavin,” I whispered, “It was easy to be myself around him because I didn’t really care what he thought about me.”

  Simon raised his eyebrows.

  “That came out wrong. I love Gavin, but with you…” I could feel myself blushing at the admission I was about to make. My instinct was to shut myself up and stop telling him these things, but my heart simply wouldn’t obey this time. “…I always put too much pressure on myself,” I continued, “because I wanted for you to... like me.” I let out a breath that I’d been holding too long and finally noticed that I was trembling, as the reality of coming to terms with my true feelings set in.

  “So what does that mean now? Are you still going to push me away?” Simon said quickly, perhaps sensing my weakening resolve and seizing the opportunity to force some type of decision out of me. The sadness in eyes was heartbreaking.

  For some reason, I felt the need to make up for lost ground, preserve the wall around me; I’d let it down too fast to feel comfortable. “I don’t know... I don’t know what’s going to happen now. I do think it’s still going to be dangerous for anyone near me...” NO! My heart screamed. What are you saying? The truth was that my deepest desire at that moment was to kiss him—again and again.

  He took my other hand, holding both of my hands now, to his chest. “I don’t care, Evangeline. Have you not been listening? I can’t breathe without you. And I’m not Jack. I’m not going to abandon you. I would, never, ever do that.”

  My jaw clenched automatically, my head shaking.

  Simon pulled a pained expression, nodding his head thoughtfully. “Evangeline, it doesn’t matter now,” he finally said, “I’m not going to be scared off, or let anything happen to you. I won’t leave, unless...” he glanced between me and his shoes, “Unless you...”

  I was conflicted, trying to choose between what I wanted, selfishly, and what I knew to be right. I needed to do the right thing here. The consequences for making a mistake would be unbearable.

  While I was deciding, a long, very uncomfortable silence passed between us.

  “Well, I guess I’ve… said too much already...” Simon’s voice trailed off in obvious dismay. He bent forward and delicately kissed my cheek. “You don’t have to say anything. I’m sorry I acted like such a jerk—I never wanted to hurt you.” With no further explanation, Simon turned and began walking away, his head down.

  Watching him leave, my silent heart simply broke. I had been lost in thought, trapped in my head as usual, and I’d waited too long. It was too late. But I did love him. What good had it done to lie to myself all this time? Why couldn’t I have come to this decision sooner?

  Of course it was obvious I had started shutting down, withdrawing from him, because I was afraid. Now, outside of my protective cocoon, I’m out in the harsh bright lights, no longer protected and in shadow. The pain and longing I feel for him is acute now, unbearable. What was I to do? Risk his life? No one really close to me has gone unscathed. Could I live through something happening to Simon? Or would things be different now, now that I’d actually found my purpose? Maybe now I knew what I was doing and could protect him. Maybe it could work. Or maybe I just really, really want it to.

  I looked up. Simon was already gone. It was too late.

  Sinking to the ground, hands covering my face, I felt the pain of it all at once. The pain from my broken heart and the new, now un-anaesthetized pain from my nearly broken body. Collapsing in a heap, my body shivered from the pain and bitter cold.

  I thought I had finally done something good, that things were going to be better now. But the truth is that I have no more idea what to do now than ever—so much so that it almost wasn’t real to me. Nothing is real when you are trapped behind walls of your own making, keeping out pain—and everything else along with it.

  By the time the tears had nearly run dry, however, I felt my resolve stiffening. I knew what I would do. I’d do exactly what I was meant to do: continue with the journey, see it through to the end. I choked back the remaining tears. This outpouring of feelings was just my selfishness resurfacing. For one fleeting moment I’d allowed myself to think I might have a shot at some sort of happiness, but deep down I’d always known it would be out of my reach. I’d live my life alone, with no one around to complicate things.

  “Is that you, Evangeline?”

  I turned to see Simon standing just a few feet away from me.

  Too shocked and embarrassed for words, I dabbed my sodden face with a sleeve.

  Simon spoke instead, “I got worried when I didn’t see any lights going on.” He reached for my hand with his own.

  After the briefest moment of indecision, I took it.

  Standing, with my face so near to his chest, I felt the warmth emanating from him. His body was so warm, warm like I never would be again. His cologne smelled faintly of gasoline—it was intoxicating. My pulse quickened. My accompanying instinctual reaction was to turn away from him, before I or he could feel any more pain, but—I couldn’t make myself do it.

  Simon didn’t move, either. I felt his breathing accelerate with mine. Turning my eyes upward at the precise moment he reached for me, a kiss ignited. This one started more delicately than the last, then slowly, gradually becoming something frantic, dangerous.

  I could not remember ever being kissed in such a way. This was a deeply intense, torturous kiss of long unrequited love and pent-up longing. Simon’s focus on me was so intense that he seemed to lose his bearings. His grasp of my shirt stretched the fabric to its limits. Holding me tightly, he stumbled back, falling back against the side of the house with me in his arms. My long suppressed desire rose to the surface all at once.

  Without quite knowing how I’d gotten there, I found myself sitting on the wooden porch trelice, with him holding me, as I was busy wrapping my legs around his waist. Our kiss never relented during any of the movement. Simon cradled my head in his hands.

  Somehow, we were back at my front door.

  I pushed Simon into the wall roughly, without exactly meaning to. A few moments later he was pinning me against the front door, his body pressed against mine in the most delicious way. Unfortunately, the door was slightly ajar, and too quickly, it gave way. I collapsed onto the floor with Simon on top of me.

  “Vangie, God, I’m so sorry...” he whispered, “I got kind of carried away. Are you hurt?” His hands were trembling as they felt around the back of my head and over my face. My entire body shivered. I shook my head to show him I was alright, but in truth, the wind had been knocked out of me and I was incapable of speech. I’d just kept that to myself. Despite the fleeting pain in my back and the loss of breath, I still thought, and very much hoped, we’d just resume where we’d left off, but Simon was now hesitating. He kissed my neck tenderly again and again.

  “Evangeline,” he finally whispered, “I know I said all of those things, and I honestly don’t know how I’ll survive without you, but... if you don’t feel the same way about me... please, please say something now. I can’t believe I’m saying this, after I’ve hoped and prayed and fantasized about this moment for what seems like a lifetime, but I don’t want it this way, if you don’t feel the same and we’re just going to go back to the way things were afterward. I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens,” he kissed my throat and whispered in my ear, “Maybe something in the middle of our Monday morning staff meeting? You know when they open it up for general discussion but no one actually says anything because of that pact we made to beat to death anyone who prolongs those meetings? I’ll tell them that Evangeline—
because of her torturous nature—forced me to prepare a very long, very tiresome epic poem in… Elizabethan English.” He raised his eyebrows. “You know I’ll do it.”

  I tried unsuccessfully to suppress an uncharacteristic giggle. Simon kissed me again, but only briefly.

  “Evangeline, I still need to know how you feel ... first,” he continued caressing and kissing my neck and collarbone.

  The tremendous anticipation was just more than I could stand. I grabbed his hair, pulling his lips to meet mine, kissing him deeply. When our lips parted, I whispered, “I do love you, Simon. I’m sorry...” Simon stopped me with a kiss, a more intensely passionate kiss than before. His hands, which had previously restrained themselves to the more modest regions of my body, now found their way over its entirety.

  Before I knew it, my clothes were finding their way off and the two of us were entwined. We didn’t make it much farther than my front entryway. In fact, I don’t even know that either of us even bothered closing the front door. It felt like a dream, like being under a spell. Nothing else seemed to matter. For all I know, the front door stayed open all night.