“Are you screwing around, Abel?” I shouted. “Because if you are, you need to tell me right now. Don’t lie or whatever. Tell me and you can put yourself out of your misery.”
“No,” he said without hesitation.
“Do you want to think about that?”
“Fuck, Evelyn,” he shouted back. “No. I’m not fucking around. I went a little hard the other night, and I didn’t call you. I said I was sorry, so can we move on for now?”
“That’s bullshit. You know it and I know it, so until you’re ready to get your head out of your ass, we can take a breather. I have my own shit going on here, and you being MIA for over twenty-four hours didn’t help.”
“I don’t want to take a breather,” he whined. “Can we forget about it?”
“About what? That you’re not coming here and aren’t telling me why? That you’re clearly lying about shit? No. Pull up your big boy pants and stop moaning.”
“Let’s talk about this when we both chill out a bit,” he said. “I can’t right now.”
“That’s fine, Abel. You chill out, and when you’re ready to come clean, call me. And speaking of calling, you should probably let your family know you’re alive because they didn’t know where the hell you were, either.”
“Okay. Talk to you later.”
He ended the call without a response or even a good-bye. Something was more than wrong.
Something had happened.
Chapter Eighteen
ABEL—
The booze made me numb.
The snow in November helped. It hadn’t snowed in so long.
Balance burned the edges, but the cracks allowed the darkness in.
She’d be home soon.
There were always choices, and I’d live with mine because protecting her meant more.
I was standing in front of the firing squad and was ready to take as many bullets as came my way to protect to her. To protect my family.
My beautiful Evelyn. She’d never forgive me.
I don’t think I’d ever forgive me.
She was everywhere and then nowhere. Everywhere in the button I found under the dishwasher from my shirt that was torn off the last night she was here. Nowhere when I had to keep pushing her away to keep her safe from me. It hurt me to do it, but hearing the sadness, the conflict, in her voice was excruciating.
I wished on every one of those fucking dandelions. I threw the jar across my apartment and watched the shards of glass anoint everything I owned, everything I touched.
I’d created my own hell.
Chapter Nineteen
EVELYN—
Something was wrong.
It had been wrong for a while, but I kept pushing it further and further away.
Let me get home and everything will be fine.
It was what I kept telling myself, but Abel’s attitude and the distance in his voice told me otherwise. A couple nights of him missing, followed by the cancellation of his trip was one thing. In the weeks that followed, he seemed to have drifted from me. His calls were sporadic. A broken computer ending our Skype dates.
“Callie. You would tell me, right? I mean, of course you would, but something is off,” I said to her on the phone.
“Of course I would. What kind of a question is that? We’ve been super busy so we haven’t seen Abel a ton, but when I have, he’s been the same him.”
“Are you sure? Things have been so weird.”
“Weird, how? I know he couldn’t come down to visit, but Aaron mentioned something about WET losing two of the other bartenders.”
“It wasn’t only that. He’s been short and distant.”
“Maybe you being away was getting to him. Guys react in all kinds of messed-up ways when they’re feeling stuff. It’ll be back to normal by the time you get home.”
It was the same thing I kept telling myself over and over, but it never sat right with me. Before I took off from Charleston I texted him:
Me: About to leave. See you tomorrow? I miss you.
Abel: Have a safe flight.
It was those kinds of responses that made my eyes burn and my stomach hurt. I knew something was wrong, and as my plane landed on a late, snowy night, dread hung over me. There was little time to sleep when I returned home, not that I wanted to. I just wanted to get into the office, play catch up, and then go find him.
I unlocked the door to By Invitation Only and flicked on the lights. Everything was still in place, exactly how I’d left it. It wasn’t as pretty as the Charleston office, but it was home.
After tossing my coat on the back of the chair, I powered up my computer to see what Bridget had for me. The heel of my shoe tapped with worry and anticipation, but a deep breath helped take the edge off. I tapped through today’s schedule and was grateful Bridget was going easy on my first day back. There was a nine a.m. appointment with a new client who would be arriving at any minute.
I wondered if there was time for a quick coffee run across the street, but a knock on the door let me know that wasn’t going to happen. A tall, beautiful woman stood smiling, waving at me through the glass.
I waved back. “Come in,” I said, standing up.
She pushed the door open and stepped in. “Hi. I have an appointment.”
“Of course, Ms. Rossi,” I said. “Come sit down. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Oh, there’s my fiancé now, texting me,” she said, looking at her phone while walking at the same time. “He works late nights, so he probably won’t be able to make it.”
“That’s okay. We won’t need him until we start making some decisions on things.”
She typed away at her phone sending and receiving several messages in a row before sitting down opposite me.
She was stunning. Long dark hair with caramel-colored highlights framed her beautiful face along with deep chestnut-brown eyes that only accentuated her elegance. Her smile was warm, and she seemed to have a maturity about her—from the way she walked and sat down elegantly to the way she shook my hand and patted the top with her other.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” I asked, leaning over to our mini fridge next to my desk.
“No, thank you.”
I opened it and retrieved a bottle of water for myself before I opened up a new file on my desktop. “Well, we like to start off by asking some questions about you, your fiancé, and initial wedding ideas, okay? You want an April wedding?”
“Yes,” she said. “I know it’ll be quick, but it’s what we want. Is it too soon?”
It was an odd question, and I wasn’t sure what she was exactly asking me. “April is really the start of the wedding season, so it will be tight planning, but it won’t be a problem.”
“That’s good. I’m also grateful for your help. I don’t have a mom or family here to help, so my mother told me to find the best planner in Chicago to help.”
“Well, you definitely have found that. No one will take better care of you than Bridget. Let me get a bit more information from you. What’s is your fiancé’s name?”
“Abel. His name is Abel.”
My fingers hovered over the keyboard, my eyes stuck to the blinking cursor. Hearing his name, which was unusual, was like taking a bullet to the gut. It was an instant, painful reaction.
I cleared my throat. “Okay,” I said, typing his name into the groom slot. “What’s his last name, Ms. Rossi?”
“Matthews.”
Another bullet. This time it was my breath that caught it. A chill ran through my body, and I couldn’t make my mind respond. There was a mistake. I made a mistake. It was her accent.
“Can you…repeat or spell the last name, please?” I asked.
Instead of typing her response, I picked up my water and unscrewed the top, listening to her recite every letter.
“M…A…T…”
I know I heard her right, but I’m still wrong.
“…T…H…”
He’s playing a joke. It’s something he’d do.
“…E
…”
Except I heard it in his voice yesterday. And I heard it the day before that.
“…W…”
It can’t be him.
“…S. Matthews.”
I typed each letter she’d said, watching his name appear in front of me.
I couldn’t swallow the water that was in my mouth as nausea threatened to bring it right back up. It was his name, but the cursor blinking taunted and teased me. I couldn’t stop staring at it.
…blink…blink…blink.
“I’m sorry,” she asked, concerned. “Do you feel all right?”
My eyes focused on the white blank space around the rest of the screen, but the cursor continued to mock my denial. “What does he do for a living?” I asked.
“He’s a bartender.”
“Matthews?”
“Yes. Well, not a bartender forever. He’s waiting for teaching job. For now, he works at his brother’s bar and—”
And then I couldn’t hear anymore.
I needed to find him. I needed to get to him.
“Hey you!” I heard Bridget exclaim.
I didn’t even see her come in or rush over. Her hands wrapped around me from behind, but I still could only see that cursor and hear his name. I could only keep seeing his name.
“Hi, I’m Bridget Harrison. You must be Dafne. We spoke yesterday.”
Blink.
Blink.
Blink.
Dafne.
“Are you okay?”
“I…I need to, um, leave. I—” I struggled to say while trying to find my breath. “Not feeling well.”
“You’re pale, Evelyn. Are you going to faint?”
Blink.
“Evelyn?”
I had to answer her, so I tore my eyes away from the screen, but my eyes settled on Dafne instead of Bridget. My trembling fingers pulled at the fabric at the top of my sweater, trying to get air anyway I could.
She was beautiful. Her eyes were kind as she looked at me, concerned, wondering what was wrong with me. It was funny, so I laughed, but then…blink…blink…blink.
“Evelyn!”
My head snapped at the sound of her voice, and adrenaline came rushing in like a tidal wave taking over my body.
“I don’t feel well. I think it’s the flu and jet lag, and…I’m sorry.”
I was unsure of what I said next or how it all appeared, but I grabbed my purse, bolting from the office. Digging my hand into my purse to locate my phone, I raced down the hallway toward the elevator. Once I found it, I called Abel’s number, but it went right to voice mail.
“Son of a bitch,” I said, ending the call.
The elevator was on our floor so there was no waiting as I stepped in and slapped my hand against the “1” button. Back at my phone, I started typing: “I need to talk to you. I don’t know what is happening. I can’t believe this is real until—”
The elevator door opened, and I ran out, hitting the revolving door so hard I almost lost my balance. My head was down, frantically trying to finish my text, when I pushed my way out of the revolving door to outside, slamming into someone.
“Sorry. I—”
I almost didn’t recognize him. It was him, but it wasn’t.
His beard was gone. Maybe that was why he looked like he’d lost so much weight. I wasn’t sure. Maybe he was working a lot and that was why the skin under his eyes was darkened to purple. No smiles. No dimples.
My heart and brain were so conflicted. I knew the reason for all of it, but my heart only knew how much I missed him.
“Why?” I asked because it was all I could manage to say. I didn’t even know what I was asking. It didn’t appear like he did, either.
His lifted his head to look up at the building. “Are you working?”
“I was.”
He still couldn’t look at me, but I was going to make him.
“Look at me, Abel.”
Nothing.
“Look at me!”
“What?” he shouted back as his eyes finally connected with mine.
“What did you do?”
He let out a sigh, shaking his head. “You know.”
“Know. What?”
“I wanted to tell you first. You have to know I wasn’t going to let you find out this way. It’s just…I didn’t know she was coming here today. I missed her text this morning and—”
“What. Did. You. Do? Just answer me. Stop saying her. Her. Her. Tell me what you did.”
His body went uneasy, his hands shook while he shifted back and forth on his legs. This dance and his blatant avoidance didn’t do much for the indignation building inside me. I wanted to hear the words from him before I could unleash it.
“Do you want to come back up with me?” I asked with abrasion. “You can help me fill in some of the blanks.”
“Can we go somewhere and talk about this? I didn’t want you to find out this way and—”
“Stop!” I said, pushing my hands into his chest. “I don’t want to talk. I want you to tell me what the hell you did when I was gone. Tell me! Tell me how you couldn’t wait until I was gone so you could get your dick into someone else. Tell me how you were seeing her the whole time we were together.”
“No,” he shouted. “No. It’s none of that.”
“Then say it!”
He ran his hands through his hair, pulling hard while pounding his foot into the pavement. “I’m getting married!”
And there it was. It was what I wanted and I still didn’t believe it.
“What?” I asked, blinking my eyes at him. It was like I could clear the moment out of existence, that if I couldn’t see it, it would all go away.
“God,” he said with his voice cracking. “This is why I wanted to talk to you alone, private. I can’t do this here.”
“Well, your…fiancée…is waiting upstairs for you to plan your wedding.”
I spit fiancée out like it was rotten, leaving a sick taste in my mouth. His shoulders sagged as he reached his hand out to touch me, but I jumped back before he did. I wasn’t going to let him keep burning me.
“What kind of twisted fuck are you?” I asked.
His hand was still outstretched to me when he looked toward the ground. “I don’t know.”
I’d never encountered such a wave of emotions all at once. I was angry, hurt, confused, and devastated. One would rise to the top and as soon as I recognized it, another would replace it.
My body shivered, the frigid temperatures so much colder than what I’d left in Charleston. Even though I’d known Chicago winters, it didn’t occur to me it was going to be so cold already. I thought it’d be warmer when I got home. I thought there would be time, so much more time.
I had to get away from the cold. I didn’t know who he was. I never did, and whoever he was now, I didn’t want to be near him.
I tried to step around him, but he blocked me. “It’s not what you think,” he said.
“There is no room for me to misunderstand, and if you think you can talk your way out of this, you’re more of an asshole than I thought.”
He bit down on his lower lip, hard, his teeth digging into the precious flesh. Those lips I’d kiss endlessly. The words that fell from them, and the smile that had lifted from the corners. It was all tainted now. All of it.
“You are disgusting,” I spat, pushing past him. “I don’t ever want to see your face near me again. Ever.”
“Evelyn,” he said, grabbing my arm. “Let me—”
I whipped my arm out of his grip. “And keep my name out of your fucking mouth.”
* * *
My apartment building was like an apparition, appearing without me even knowing it was supposed to be there. I didn’t know how I got there. I didn’t know how I managed to walk so far, from the office to home, in heels that sunk into the slushy snow. I was cold from the inside out—my heart so much colder than my numb fingertips and wet feet.
Once inside I headed straight in the direction of
my bedroom. I dropped my purse to the floor with such weariness the contents spilled to the floor with a crash, my cell phone making the most noise. I left it all behind as I crawled up on my bed and curled tight into myself, my muddy shoes dirtying the top of my ivory duvet cover. I didn’t even care.
It started snowing as the sun tried to shine right through the flakes until the moon took its place. It was so beautiful, so, so exquisite. It wasn’t enough, though, to take away all the black hanging over me.
He was the one. Was. Now he was someone else’s one. He belonged to someone else. She seemed lovely, but the hate I had for her was deeper than any other malice I’d ever known. It was misplaced, though. The ugliness directed at her should’ve been directed at him instead, but I couldn’t find the place in my heart or my head to do it because I loved him.
I love him. In love with him.
I’d known, of course I’d known, but the terror of saying it out loud, with no reservations was bigger than me. Now, it was probably the reason I lost him.
Married.
Fucking married.
We’d never even spoken the damn word to each other even though there were times I caught glimpses of that life with him, flashing in my mind like photographs. It was like a dream, but that was all it was. A dream.
Darkness covered me, and it was the only glimpse of hope I had that maybe it would bury me. There were no tears, no frantic phone calls, only the snow.
But then the darkness turned to light again, and I had to come to grips with the reality the same thing was going to keep happening.
I dragged myself off the bed, my body aching from laying in the same position, in my clothes, for hours. As I undressed, dropping my clothes into a heap on the floor at my feet, my eyes glanced over my down comforter. It was ruined.
It was all ruined.
I retrieved my cell phone and had missed several calls and texts. Callie, Bridget, but none from him. I didn’t want to hear from him, but it burned my insides the same that he didn’t.
The hot shower, as hot as I could make it, did little to help my shivering, pained body. I took the scalding water like a warrior, hoping it would wash away the pain, but as I exited the shower, it was still there. The pain. The fear. The snow.
So Screwed Page 21