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“I’m sorry; I’m such a mess,” I tell him, flipping the napkin to the other side and being careful not to smudge my makeup too much.
“Don’t be.” It’s only then that I realize how close he is. He’s so warm. “Evan,” I say, blurting out his name as my tired eyes feel heavy and the need to be held makes my body hot. My fingersitch to lay across Jake’s lap. “I tried to call him and got his voicemail.”
“About his father?” Jake asks, and I find myself leaning closer to him. Jake doesn’t let on that there’s any more tension between us than usual. The air between us has shifted. It’s something closer and vulnerable. Something I should be wary of, but I need it. God, I need it.
I nod once, twisting the little shreds of the napkin I’m destroying in my lap. “The doctor called me. I was my father-in-law’s emergency contact.” My throat tightens yet again and my words are choked, thinking about how I was listed as his daughter in Henry’s phone.
“And Evan?”
“He didn’t answer.”
Jake leans back, putting a bit of distance between us and seems to question whether or not he wants to respond. He takes a heavy breath as if he’s going to, but sips his coffee instead. I study his face as he stares straight ahead.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t even be talking about this. I just?—”
“Stop saying you’re sorry, Kat.” Jake turns his head and gazes deep into my eyes as he tells me, “You have nothing to be sorry for, and I don’t understand why anyone would make you feel like you do.”
My breath comes in shorter bursts, my heart beating faster. But all I can think about is how I wish Evan would say those words to me.
My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I reply, “I am sorry, though.” I don’t know what else to say. It’s just how I feel.
“Well, I’m sorry too. I’m sorry about your father-in-law. And I’m sorry your ex isn’t there for you. I’m sure he’s going through his own things, but it doesn’t seem right that he’s ignoring you like that. He’s got to know it hurts you.”
“He doesn’t feel like my ex most of the time,” I admit to Jake with my eyes focused on my fingers as I continue to shred the napkin.
I’m anxious for Jake’s response. It would lift a weight and burden for someone to understand, and I feel like Jake can. Even if he can’t, I don’t think he’ll judge me. I hope he won’t.
“You’ve been married for years, right?” I nod at his question. “And you only just split?” I nod again to confirm.
“You’re going through a lot, and he’s not even talking to you. I don’t get this guy. I wouldn’t throw you away like that.”
“I don’t think he’s throwing me away so much as putting me to the side while he tries to …” An uneasy sigh slips into the silence when I can’t finish my own thought.
“I read in the papers about what he’s got going on,” Jake says, and I’m forced to look at him, my heart beating slowly as I wait for his judgment. “I don’t get how the two of you fit together, honestly.”
“We have more in common than you’d think.”
“Still have? Or had?” he asks me. Without waiting for a reply, he shakes his head. “Tell me to fuck off if you want,” he offers then closes his eyes and takes a quick sip of coffee. “I’m only here if you want to talk. And if I cross a line?—”
“You’re not crossing any line,” I reassure him and find myself reaching out, letting my hand fall on top of his. Mostly for fear of him backing away and leaving me with nothing again. “I don’t talk to anyone else really.” The plea is unsaid, but Jake hears it. I’m already a burden to my friends. I know I am, even if that’s what friends are for. The one thing I know, though, is that they’ll remember everything Evan’s done, and they’ll hate him like I do right now for treating me how he has. Even if they don’t say it. So all of this animosity and worry over him and his actions? I can’t give it to them. I need someone else. Someone like Jake.
His soothing gaze assesses me and stays on mine as he tells me, “I don’t want you to get upset with me because of an opinion I have when I only know a small fraction of the truth. I know the past goes deeper than that.”
It’s small kindnesses that kill the pain. The tiny bits break down walls, making them crumble all because they hit at just the right spot, at just the right time.
“Just don’t hate me for still loving him,” I whisper.
“I think you still have feelings for him because you haven’t let anyone else in,” he says and leans just a bit closer to me.
If Evan would give me just a little, I wouldn’t be here.The thought flies through my mind as Jake leans forward a bit more, his gorgeous dark green, hazel eyes focused on my lips.
If Evan would only comfort me or let me comfort him, I wouldn’t have even called Jake, I think as I close my eyes and breathe in the masculine scent of Jake’s cologne. The deep forest fragrance fills my lungs as he gently presses his lips against mine.
If Evan really wanted me, if he cared about me …the thought is lost when my hands move to Jake’s hair, my fingers spearing through it as my lips part and Jake deepens the kiss.
The problem is that when my eyes are closed, I picture Evan. It’s his fingers that thread through my hair and cup the back of my head. It’s his lips pressed against mine.
The problem is when I open my eyes, it’s not Evan. No matter how much I want it to be him.