Page 158

I’ve been alone all my life. Until Evan. When he first started sleeping over, it was hard to fall asleep. Unless he fucked me to the point of exhaustion, which was often.
You’d think it’d be easy going back to being alone. I was a pro at it for years and worse yet, I was proud of it. The train goes by and the sound cuts through the white noise of the city. The windows are closed, but I still hear it. I can even feel the rumble and vibrations as I try to lie still on the bed. And that’s when I get a hint of Evan’s scent. When I’m alone, missing him, I sleep on his side of the bed. It’s easiest the first night he’s gone. It smells just like him. Each day it gets a little harder and working late nights gets more appealing. But even the masculine scent that drifts toward me as I inch my head closer to his pillow isn’t enough to comfort me. Why would it? I’m losing him and everything we had.
I toss the heavy comforter off my body and sit up, wiping the sleep from my eyes and dangling my feet over the side of the bed. It’s nearly 1:00 a.m. and pitch black in the room. I should be sleeping, considering the fatigue plaguing my body and all too conscious it should come easy.
My fingers run through my long hair, separating it and braiding it loosely before I take a sip of water from the glass on the nightstand. If I get up and start working, I know I won’t sleep at all tonight. The very thought makes my heart thump harder. Work is killing me, lack of sleep is destroying me. But both are because I’m completely and utterly alone.
Just breathe.I let my head fall back and slowly creep back under the covers. All I need to do is breathe.
But that hope is short lived as I hear Evan climb the stairs. I had one condition to him coming home, and that was leaving me the bedroom. Even if it hurts me, I’d rather feel pain in his absence than a fraction of that pain in his presence.
I close my eyes as I hear the door open. For a moment I think I should pretend to be asleep, but I don’t want any more lies in our relationship. Whatever our relationship even is now.
“I thought you were going to sleep on the sofa?” I ask him and then hold my breath. I should want him to leave. That’s what a sane woman who’s getting a divorce should want. But there isn’t an ounce of me that wants to see him walk out that door.
“I was going to,” Evan answers and then slips his shirt off over his head. He keeps his eyes on me, daring me to say something, but my eyes focus on his broad chest.
In six years his body has changed, as has mine. But he’s still lean and muscular. My body heats and my thighs clench, but I play it off, turning my back to him to lie on my left shoulder.
“Is this all right?” he asks me, his voice carrying through the dark night and cutting me down to my deepest insecurity. It’snot all right and nothing about this situation is, but those aren’t the words that come out of my mouth.
My eyes squeeze shut tight and I give in to what I want, slowly moving my body toward his. Wouldn’t it be a lie to deny it?
“I’m afraid I’ll like it too much if you stay,” I finally answer with my eyes closed as the bed dips. I stay perfectly still as I lay out the bare truth. “I’m afraid I’ll forgive you and I’ll forget why we shouldn’t be together.” All the words pour out from deep down in my soul, leaving my lips in a rush.
A rough sound comes from deep in his throat as the comforter pulls just slightly. “You don’t know what you want, Kat,” Evan tells me although the confidence is missing. “You want me to leave because you’re afraid. You won’t fight for me to stay because you know I will regardless of what you say, isn’t that right?”
My brow furrows as I take in his assessment. He scoots closer to me, making the bed shift beneath my still body. When I turn to meet him, still under the covers, his dark gaze stares at me as if I’m his prey and that’s just how I feel. “No. I want you to leave because we’re leading different lives.” I have to second-guess my words.
“Then let’s get back on track. Let’s start over,” he whispers and then leans closer to me. As if testing my boundaries, he rests his hand on the pillow above my head. I don’t push him away, but I don’t move toward him either.
I’m fucked no matter what I do.
I’m empty and hollow. All the sadness and regret has been shed from me, leaving nothing behind but faint memories of what we had and the hint of all the hopes and dreams I had so long ago to make my heart flutter. As I close my eyes and swallow the lump in my throat, Evan lies next to me, gently resting his hand on my hip. He’s silent but I can hear his steadybreath and smell a hint of his scent. I inhale deeper. God, what that scent does to me. My head dips further into the pillow as I readjust under the covers and when I do, Evan lifts his hand slightly. Waiting to see which way I’ll turn.
And I turn toward him.
“You make me a foolish woman,” I tell him as my eyes slowly open. His hazel eyes are so clear at this angle. Maybe it’s the moon creeping in from the slit between the curtains.
He smirks at me, although there’s a sadness in his smile as he brushes my hair from my face.
“Tell me you’ll stay with me.”
“Tell me why I should,” I reply instantly and the soft look of longing in his eyes fades away as the soothing motion of his thumb rubbing along my temple falters. My eyes drop to his chest and my heart plummets to the pit of my stomach. “You said you didn’t cheat,” I tell him, but mostly I make a promise to myself. “So I believe you.”
“Thank you,” he says so softly beneath his breath I hardly hear him. His shoulders sag slightly and it makes the bed creak with relief.
I want to say more. I want to make some sort of demand or ultimatum ... or ask why he was there in that hotel lobby in the middle of the night. Why he lied to the world. Why he’s lying to me. But instead I curl into him.
“Don’t leave me,” he says, giving me the request and wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer to him. Closer to his scent, his warmth, to the man I’ve been desperate to be with for so damn long. His heat wraps around me in the most comforting of ways.
“I won’t promise you that,” I answer with honesty with my eyes open, staring at a small scar on his left shoulder. I lift my hand up and let my fingers play along the silvery indent of it.“You’re right that I don’t know what I want. So we’ll just have to find out.”
He’s quiet for a long time. And part of my heart, a very large part of it aches. It’s a horrible feeling and it makes my eyes sting. But I won’t mourn what I’m not even sure I’ve lost. It’s just the threat of ending something I’ve valued so dearly and for so long that hurts.
My shoulders shake slightly as I take in a shuddering breath, and that’s when he cups my chin and forces me to look at him.
“You know I love you,” he says with a ragged breath. “More than anything, anything in the world.”