I feel desperate to get him to understand that I do not share my family’s opinions, so I put both of my hands on his face to hold his attention on me. “Everything they said was a lie. They are master manipulators, and you can’t trust anything they say. Please believe me. And I swear I didn’t tell them you own Goddard Smith…because I don’t even care what company you own. I just want you.”
Jake doesn’t say he wants me too. He doesn’t say everything is okay and that he trusts me. His eyes are meeting mine, but I don’t think he’s really even seeing me anymore.
“I don’t know….” is what he says before pulling away and walking toward the truck.
My arms fall back to my sides. “Where are you going?”
“To get in the truck and take you home.”
“So that’s it, then? We’re just done talking because you decide we are?”
He pauses and turns to look at me—but he looks so hollow I want to cry. “Believe me, Evie. You don’t want me to keep talking right now because I will say lots of things that I’ll regret. I just endured an hour of belittling that has my blood boiling, and I have a lot to think about.”
“Jake!” I say, taking a desperate step toward him. “None of what they said was true. Are you worried because of Tyler?”
He grimaces at the sound of Tyler’s name and shakes his head. “No. That guy’s a tool, and I know you’d never go for him.”
“Then, what is it? And why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what, Evie?”
“Like you’ve already said goodbye to me!”
Jake holds my gaze for a minute, and every breath I take sounds excruciatingly loud in my ears. His jaw flexes, and he breaks eye contact to look down. “Maybe I have. I heard them in there; they don’t think I’m good enough for you. And…I’m not entirely sure that I don’t agree with them.”
“No,” I say as an expelled breath. “That’s not true! You’re so much better than those people, and I don’t want the life they have!”
“Maybe not now,” he says, raising his eyes to meet mine with a new look of fire and determination. “But what about in two years? What about when you start missing your old life? When I don’t make as much money as you need? Or have the connections you need? What then, Evie?” I hate the way Jake just said my name. It was like a jab to my stomach. “This is the opposite of what I need right now. Sam and I need support and stability. We need someone we can trust. And…”
I shut my eyes. “Don’t say it.”
He holds my gaze for the span of three breaths and then quietly says, “And I don’t know that that person is you.”
He turns around and gets in his truck and starts it. I stand there motionless, feeling like I’ve just been hit with a stun gun. I feel angry and hurt and betrayed. But it’s odd because I know that’s exactly how Jake feels too. The selfish people in that house accomplished exactly what they set out to do, and now my heart feels shattered.
I look back up at my parents’ house and spot Tyler watching us from the window. He sees me looking at him and raises his glass in a mock toast. I wish I had a brick I could throw through that window.
I’m not quite sure that I’m welcome in Jake’s truck right now, but I also know that there’s no way in Hades I’m going back in my parents’ house and asking for a ride.
I look down at Charlie, and his big chocolate eyes promise me that I get to order in a dozen cookies and eat them all when I get home. At least Charlie is always there for me.
Chapter Thirty
JAKE
I dropped Evie off at her apartment after a completely silent drive home where I played the part of the brooding jerk perfectly. It wasn’t a part I wanted to play, but I felt like I wasn’t in control of myself anymore. This night couldn’t have gone any worse, and as I’m driving home in the dark, I still can’t quite pinpoint the moment it all went south.
One minute, Evie and I were united, and I was happy to be her shoulder to lean on during a difficult night, and the next thing I knew, I needed a crutch of my own to lean on as I dragged myself off the battlefield of the war I just lost.
I pull up out front of my house and cut the engine but don’t get out of the truck. I need a minute to myself to think over everything that just happened. I run my hands over my face and hair and then groan as a sinking feeling fills my stomach.
Evie and I both just got played. Me more than anyone.
Now, away from the haughty smirk of Tyler, I can see it all clearly. They said exactly what they needed to push my buttons and hit me in all my sore spots. How they knew what my sore spots are is a little frightening, but I guess that people with as much money as them can accomplish just about anything they want to. Tonight being evidence of that.
Why did I listen to them? Deep down, I know that Evie doesn’t want their life. She doesn’t fit in in that manipulative social-elitist world any more than I would fit into one of Sam’s training bras. And yet…I let them get into my head.
I’m still raw from Natalie. I’m still scared. And hearing them confirm my biggest fears that I’m not good enough for Evie and she’ll leave me and Sam just like Natalie did, well, it undid me. I wanted to run away with my heart clutched in my hand to keep it safe.
But I was wrong. I overreacted.
My only hope now is that Evie will forgive me and forget all the accusations I tossed at her. I let out another groan because the more I think about it, the worse I feel. I remember the hurt I saw filling her eyes, the betrayal she felt. I sided with those people over her, and now I’m fearful she won’t forgive me. I wouldn’t blame her, either.
I pull out my phone, ready to call her and grovel at her feet for forgiveness, when movement on my porch catches my eye. I forgot to turn on the porch lights before I left the house, so I can’t see who it is. For a split second, hope soars in my chest, and I think that it’s Evie. But then I realize she can’t drive, and there is no way she could have called an Uber and beat me here.
Maybe I should be worried that it’s a robber. But I haven’t heard of many criminals who like to leisurely swing on porches before breaking and entering, so I think I’m safe in that regard. Curiosity has me slipping my phone back into my pocket, and I get out of the truck.
It’s when I approach the porch that I remember the old saying “curiosity killed the cat.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Not exactly the welcome home I was hoping for, but hello to you, too.” Natalie, my ex-wife, is smiling and swinging on my porch like she never left me a year ago. Like she has spent every day of the past year caring for our daughter as she should have been. Like she belongs here.
She doesn’t.
“You want me to throw you a party? Sorry, not going to happen.”
“Too bad. I love parties.”
“Cut the cuteness, Natalie. We’re not friends, and we’re not going to banter tonight. Now, tell me what you’re doing here.”
Her smile fades, and she stands up to walk closer to me. I take a step back for two reasons:
She’s not my wife anymore, and it’s not appropriate for her and I to be in close proximity when I’m seeing someone else (and I AM seeing someone else, because I fully intend to make amends with Evie as soon as I get rid of Natalie).