Page 54

RUMI

By the time I get home, the afternoon has faded into the early evening, and I’m fully convinced that I was overreacting to seeing the black car in the parking lot.

After leaving Hey Honey’s, reassuring Emerson that I was fine, I went for a walk, needing to clear my head, before circling back home, knowing Evee was taken care of with Ava.

With the situation forgotten, I walk through my front door to find Ava on the other side, Evee in one arm and her diaper bag in the other.

I’m surprised to see her, having gotten a text from her that she was going to drop Evee off at Jack’s mom’s house for me—Tuesday evenings having turned into Angela’s night with Evee since she watched her the weekend I took care of Jack when he was sick.

Ava’s auburn hair is curled in loose waves, and her freckled cheeks are dusted with bronzer and a light pink blush. She’s dressed in a tight black dress that accentuates her slim build and long legs.

She’s dressed for a date.

I cock my head and give her a smirk. “Where are you off to?”

I know she’s been seeing Anderson, but he’s working today—on the same shift rotation as Jack—and doesn’t get off until tomorrow morning.

Holding my arms out toward Evee, she reaches back to me and settles in my hold.

She babbles her version of “mama” a few times—her first and only word since she first said it a few weeks ago.

She smiles, showing off her fourth tooth that has grown in at the bottom as she tangles her little hands in the loose strands from my braid.

Ava squares her shoulders, schooling her features, never one to not own up to her decisions or actions. “To drop Evee off at Jacks’ mom’s. I texted you.”

“Dressed like that?” I ask, eyeing her outfit one more time.

“Yep,” she says, a little too cheerfully. “I’ll let Angela know you’ll pick Evee up at 8?”

I nod, rolling my lips to hide the smiling threatening my lips. “Then where are you off to?”

Even though she’s been seeing Anderson, it’s possible they haven’t made things official or both are seeing other people. But, from what she’s told me, Ava seems completely smitten with the firefighter.

“I’m meeting Jett.”

My eyes widen, and I feel my whole body tense with anger. “The hell you are.” The volume of my voice surprises Ava, her brows lifting in surprise.

Jett is her emotionally abusive ex, the one who turned her into a shell of a human until she left him last year, weeks before my path crossed with hers.

She’s gone no-contact with him since, but she’s mentioned a few times how he still has some of her things. He’s basically holding a few boxes of hers—the ones she couldn’t fit in her car when she left one morning when he was at work—hostage to get her to talk to him, but she’s held strong.

Until now, apparently.

“I thought you had him blocked.” My hold on Evee tightens—just the thought of Ava seeing Jett, possibly putting herself in harm’s way, makes me hold my daughter closer.

“I unblocked him two weeks ago,” she admits, and I wished she was more embarrassed over the admission—that she felt some semblance of guilt for going back on all this progress she’s made.

“And what? You guys are talking now?”

She lets out a humorless laugh. “I don’t remember needing to answer to you .”

Her words sting, and I have to resist the urge to step back. The way she says it, laced with malice, catches me off guard.

This doesn’t sound like my best friend.

We’ve never fought, barely ever disagreed, so to hear her say something with such distaste rears me silent for a moment.

I inhale, trying to calm the frustration bubbling under my skin.“Do you really need that stuff he has?”

She shakes her head. “It’s not about the stuff. It’s about closure.”

“What closure? You and I both know that men like him don’t change.” She of all people should know that best, having been the one to tell me time and time again whenever I doubted my decision to leave Trevor at the beginning of moving here.

“It’s none of your business,” she says, taking a step toward me.

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

Ava rolls her eyes. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get her to Angela’s.” She reaches for Evee, but I instinctively hold her closer to me, and Ava looks like I slapped her across the face.

But the look of hurt is gone as quickly as it came, and she shrugs her shoulders, walking past me toward our car in the driveway. “Suit yourself,” she says without even turning to look at me, and I don’t wait to watch her get to the car.

Instead, I storm into the house, throwing the door shut behind me, turning the lock, and leaning back against it.

How could she be so stupid?

Going to see the person who constantly put her down, called her names, made her feel guilty for anything that would allow him more control over her.

Jett messed with her head to the point she started doubting herself, and she’s the most confident, headstrong, fearless person I know.

And now she’s going back to him?

I know how easy it is to get stuck in the cycle, no matter what the person has done or how much time and space you put between them, but what the hell is she thinking?

And she couldn’t at least talk to me about it?

She’s putting her guard up, and that scares the shit out of me.

I’m still leaning back on the door when the doorknob wiggles, and then I hear a knock.

I’m too mad to hear her explanation or apology or whatever she’s coming back for. If that’s what she’s even coming back for.

Maybe she just forgot something.

Without turning around, I turn the deadbolt, kick off my shoes, and head into the kitchen with Evee. I hear the door open behind me, but I don’t turn around, not even wanting to look at her right now.

I set Evee down in her high chair as I hear Ava close the door, but she doesn’t follow me into the kitchen right away.

And she doesn’t say anything.

So neither do I.

Grabbing a pot, I fill it with water, turning on the gas stove and setting the pot on the burner. It’s immature and petty to ignore her, but I can’t help it—focusing on making a quick dinner for Evee and me, pulling out a box of pasta.

Finally, footsteps slowly approach.

That’s weird.

No matter how pissed Ava is, she wouldn’t keep her shoes on in the house.

The footsteps quicken, and they sound heavy, not like the heels she had on.

But before I can turn around, I feel a large, cold hand grip my shoulder hard enough to make me yelp in pain.

The person turns me around, and I feel a sudden, shocking jolt of pain in my cheek.

A sharp burst of pressure knocks me back, causing my vision to blur, and I stumble, catching myself on the edge of the counter.

Whoever it is— a man? —is yelling at me, but I’m too disoriented to register what they’re saying.

I hear Evee wail over the bellowing as I try to blink away the tears forming in my eyes, but, before I can even register it’s happening, another punch comes, and then it all goes silent—and black.