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Chapter Twenty-Five

Eva

“ W hat do you mean, you’re second-guessing saying anything?” Jessie asks as we walk around the store.

I stop at a black shirt with lace sleeves. It’s cute. Roman would love it. Shit. This is exactly why I should be ending things with him. He’s always on my mind. Everything I do, I’m wondering what he would think or remembering a conversation we had.

Paris was … indescribable. It was the best time I’ve ever had in my life. He showed me the sights, held my hand, spoiled me everywhere we went, then went back to the hotel and made love to me.

When I say he made love, I mean it. He spent hours each night worshipping every inch of me. He used his mouth on me, his fingers. When we did have sex, it was slow and attentive.

I saw it on his face—he was feeling it too.

We’ve been back for a week, and he’s been distant. This week without him has made me realize just how hard it would be to lose him.

I’m not ready for it. I need more time.

Is that irresponsible? Possibly. It will hurt more in the end for me, but I just can’t imagine having the strength to tell him it’s over.

“Eva!” Jessie exclaims. “Snap out of it. Tell me why you think you shouldn’t be having this conversation with Roman now?”

I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know. I just want more time. Does it have to end just because I have feelings?”

She doesn’t respond right away. I wait for her to go off, to tell me I’m being an idiot. I’m sure that’s exactly what she’s thinking.

“You think he’s feeling more too?” she finally asks.

“I don’t know. It felt like it in Paris. I just think there’s no way I’m the only one feeling what I’m feeling.”

“And you’re willing to risk it and continue to see him?”

“If he’s willing to. It’s only been a couple of months. Even if he is feeling something, I can’t expect him to declare his love for me right now. It takes time. If it’s going this well, why would I end it before it has a chance to become something?”

I pause for a moment as I try to read her expression. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

She sighs. “Honestly, no, I don’t. You do have a point. It’s been a couple of months. There’s no reason for him to show up on your door and declare his love for you. I say go with your gut. If you think he might be feeling more, maybe it is worth it to give it a chance.”

Her response lifts a weight off my shoulders. I didn’t realize how much I was bracing for her words. Jessie is not one to tell me something just because she knows it’s what I want to hear. If she says I’m making sense, she means it.

With that off my shoulders, I continue to peruse the clothing racks.

“Eva?” a woman exclaims.

I turn around to see who it might be. “Penelope, hi!” I exclaim.

I close the distance and give her a hug.

“I thought that was you,” she says. “How are you?”

“I’m good. Just shopping with my friend. Enjoying a slow Saturday for once.”

“Ugh, you’re so lucky. I have a work event tonight. Of course it’s black tie, so I’m out doing some last-minute shopping.”

Jessie walks up to us with her signature bright smile. “Hi, I’m Jessie.”

“Hi, Jessie. I’m Penelope.”

“Penelope is the vice president of Bertini Hotels.”

“Nice. I love to see women climbing the ranks.”

Penelope laughs. “Roman’s many things, but a misogynist isn’t one of them.” She glances down at her watch. “Speaking of Roman, I should get going. He’s picking me up in a couple of hours.”

A shiver runs down my spine as my heart skips a beat. I do my best to smile and move past it. “Well, have a great time tonight. I’ll see you around.”

“Of course. See you, Eva. Nice to meet you, Jessie.”

Penelope walks out of the shop in her heels, and her tan legs and skinny body are etched in my brain now.

Jessie and I stand in silence as we stare at the door.

“So, um, what’s Roman picking her up for?”

“Some work event,” I reply, voice cracking.

“I see. That’s his vice president. She’s …”

“Fucking stunning.”

“Yeah, she’s not bad to look at.”

I spin around and begin to push through hangers aggressively, not even seeing the clothes in front of me.

I never thought about what Roman might be doing on the nights that we weren’t together.

It never dawned on me who might be taking his leggy vice president to work events, dressed to the nines.

My stomach rumbles as a picture of them together burns my eyes.

“Eva,” Jessie says gently, her hand on my shoulder, “now, don’t go creating a scenario in your head that isn’t happening.”

I spin on my heel. “Would you be able to resist someone like her if you had a couple of drinks and she asked for it?”

She looks at the ground. “Sure. Of course.”

“Jessie, I know you’re lying.” I storm out of the store, desperate to walk off this excess energy that is taking over inside of me.

Jessie catches up with me. “Eva, come on. Nothing is going to happen between them. It’s his VP. He’s not going to jeopardize his image to sleep with her.”

I slow down as her words sink in. “You think so?”

“Come on. His work is his life. He wouldn’t do that. And I don’t know her, but he’d be crazy to pick her when he has you.”

I smile to myself. I know she’s full of shit right now. Maybe she is capable of telling me lies just because I want to hear them.

“Thanks, Jessie. I’m sorry. I’m behaving like a child right now.”

She waves her hand at me. “Nah, you’re just trying to control circumstances that aren’t within your control. It’s scary. No one said falling in love was easy. It’s a risk.”

I know staying means risking everything. He’s been honest with me from the beginning—he doesn’t do love.

But love isn’t always a choice.

It’s not just the moments together, when his hands are on me or his lips are on mine. It’s the subtle moments, the softness in his voice. The way he shows up when it matters. Listens when I talk, opens up to me about his own pain.

Something in him is shifting. I can feel it. Even if he doesn’t know it yet.

I’m not naive. This could end with my heart shattered, and I’d be left picking up the pieces I willingly placed into his hands. Especially on nights like this, where I know he’s attending an event with a beautiful woman on his arm.

But what if … what if there’s a chance he’s falling too?

If there is even the slightest chance that he feels the same, I have to see it through.

Because walking away now would hurt just as much as staying.