Change of Heart

by Courtney Walsh

  “Oh.” He pretended to read the menu. As if he needed a reminder of the single column of options at Barb’s.

  “How’s she doing anyway?” Maggie went back to skimming her own menu, an awkwardness hanging in the air between them.

  “She’s fine, I guess.” Trevor didn’t look at her.

  “Papers say she’s not staying at her house anymore,” Maggie said. “Guess I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t want to be reminded what a jerk my husband was either.”

  Trevor grimaced. “Can we talk about something else?”

  Maggie’s eyes widened. “Oh, of course. Yes. I’m sorry. I ramble when I’m nervous. I know you guys are friends and everything.”

  Regina Ray appeared at the end of their table, took their order, and doled out another healthy dose of flirtation, but Maggie seemed unfazed.

  “You’ve got quite a way with the ladies, Mr. Whitney,” she said, a twinkle in her eye.

  He waved her off. She had no idea how untrue that was.

  As the evening wore on, Trevor forced himself to hold up his end of the conversation. Maggie wasn’t difficult to talk to, but his mind kept wandering back to Evelyn. There’d been a time he would’ve assumed she could take care of herself.

  After witnessing her panic attack, though, he wasn’t so sure. He’d assumed those had stopped the older she got. Now he wondered if they’d ever actually gone away at all.

  In a flash, they were twenty again, sitting on the back deck of the old farmhouse, the summer air unseasonably cool.

  By that point, Trevor had two years of college under his belt and he’d settled on a business major with plans of moving to Chicago or New York right after graduation. He was ready to get out of Loves Park for good and see the world—whatever it took to make sure he wasn’t sucked back into this black hole of a town.

  Never mind that he hadn’t told his parents his plan. They still thought he was majoring in business to improve the family farm.

  Evelyn had called on a Thursday, right after he’d arrived home for summer break. At the sound of her voice, all the old feelings rushed back, and before he knew it, they’d made plans to meet at the farm “like old times.”

  Trevor knew they were just friends. He knew she’d invited Chris. He’d spent the last months pushing her out of his mind. But seeing her undid all the progress he’d made in an instant.

  Her hair fell in messy waves past her shoulders, long and loose, driving him crazy. She smiled as she stepped onto the deck. “I’ve missed you so much, Whit.” She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. He tried not to linger too long, though the smell of her made it hard to pull away.

  “Chris is running late, as usual.” She gave him a halfhearted smile.

  Somehow Trevor didn’t mind Chris being late.

  She joined him at the table on the deck, eyeing what he’d brought out for her—a brand-new pack of cards. “What are these?”

  He grinned. “Rematch.”

  “You really are a glutton for punishment.” She took the cards out of the box and shuffled like a professional card dealer standing behind a Vegas casino table. She dealt and the rummy began.

  They’d clocked a lot of hours of rummy waiting around for Chris the past couple of years, even the last time Trevor saw her over spring break. “Just keep her busy till I get there,” he’d told Trevor.

  Trevor didn’t ask any questions and pretended his friend was perpetually tardy, but he wasn’t stupid. The truth was, Trevor liked spending time with Evie alone.

  So he went along with it, knowing if she ever found out, it would break her heart.

  They played in silence, and Trevor tried not to stare at her. She wrinkled her forehead when she was deep in thought and flicked the edges of the cards when she was close to winning.

  “You’re lucky you get to spend your summer here,” she said absently.

  “Lucky?” Did he need to give her a list of reasons to prove the contrary?

  “It’s so inviting. Peaceful.”

  “Have you met my father?”

  She laughed. “Okay, you can relax after the chores.” He watched her shuffle, then reshuffle her own deck. She kept her head low, her face turned away, but he recognized that look.

  “What’s wrong, Evie?”

  She shook her head. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

  He patiently waited until she finally met his eyes. “Things aren’t so great in my house right now.”

  He didn’t know much about her home life—just that her dad was a military man who liked everything in order, and she and her mom always walked on eggshells, doing whatever they needed to do to please him.

  Evelyn rubbed her temples, her lower lip trembling as she fought back tears. “Today is the anniversary of my sister’s death.”

  Sylvie. Evelyn had spoken of her only once or twice. She’d died in a house fire when Evelyn was only twelve, before her family moved to Loves Park. He supposed there were some things you never recovered from.

  Evelyn swiped at the tears that were falling more quickly.

  Trevor watched for a full horrifying minute, feeling completely helpless and unsure. Emotions weren’t his strong suit and Evelyn wasn’t his girlfriend.

  But he did care about her, and what she needed most was to know she wasn’t alone.

  He moved to the other side of the table and pulled her to her feet and into a strictly platonic hug.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, letting out the pain she’d been carrying for so many years. He stood, unmoving, and said nothing, choosing not to clutter the moment with vacant thoughts or empty words but simply to let her feel the weight of her pain.

  When she pulled away, her cheeks stained with tears, she wore a faraway look. “It was my fault, you know.”

  “Don’t say that, Evie.”

  “The firefighters came back for us and found me first. I was passed out in the hallway, but Sylvie was trapped.” Her voice shook as she spoke.

  “Ev.”

  “You should’ve seen the look on my father’s face when they told him Sylvie was gone. He’s hardly spoken to me since. I was never good enough for him to begin with. It was Sylvie he loved. It should’ve been me, Whit.” The words cracked as her breath became shallow, her breathing labored. She leaned forward, struggling to get a deep breath.

  “Evelyn? What’s going on?”

  The look of panic on her face scared him. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it—hard. Was she having a heart attack? Should he call 911?

  “You’re lost in thought, Whit.”

  Maggie’s voice yanked him from the past, away from the first time he discovered Evelyn suffered from severe anxiety disorder, the first time he truly understood what a panic attack was.

  Maggie smiled, but she had to be annoyed he’d been, as usual, a less-than-engaging conversationalist. This whole thing was a bad idea.

  “Sorry. Lots going on.”

  Maggie stared at him over one of the house specials—burger and fries. “You might feel better if you talk about it.”

  She was wrong. Talking never made him feel better.

  “You’re really caught up in the middle of this thing, aren’t you?” Maggie doused a french fry in ketchup, then tossed it in her mouth. “I bet it’s hard, being friends with both of them.”

  She was perceptive, he’d give her that. Maybe a little too perceptive. He didn’t want someone dissecting his feelings.

  “It’s complicated.” He sucked in a drink of his chocolate shake and swallowed without tasting.

  Maggie covered his hand with hers. “Well, they’re both lucky to have you.”

  Yeah, I’m the guy who’s been in love with his best friend’s wife since the day I met her. They sure are lucky.

  “You seem worried. I mean, I don’t blame you. Chris will probably go to jail and no one really knows if Evelyn was involved.”

  “She wasn’t.” Trevor turned his glass in a circle.

  �
��But you’re still worried?”

  Maybe Maggie was right, and he should talk to someone about the situation. Not about all of it—definitely not about his feelings—but he had reason to be worried.

  The image of Evelyn slumped in the chair in the lobby of Chris’s apartment building, struggling for breath, rushed through his mind. He didn’t know much about anxiety disorders, but if it had that kind of hold on her, it couldn’t be good.

  “I’m losing you again.” She ate another fry.

  “Evelyn’s . . . fragile, I guess.”

  Maggie’s brow furrowed as a confused look spread across her face. “How so?”

  “Anxiety. She has these attacks.”

  “Like panic attacks?”

  Trevor drew in a breath. He’d promised himself he was done interfering. “You know what? Forget I said anything.”

  “Okay. But I would be worried too, Trevor,” Maggie said. “I hope you’re right and she’s not involved with this mess.”

  “She’s not.”

  Maggie stopped chewing. “But you said you don’t really run in the same circles anymore. How do you know that for sure?”

  Something inside him sparked, and he fought the need to defend Evelyn. “I think she’s just got a lot of stress right now.”

  “I’m not trying to be argumentative,” Maggie said, turning her attention back to her plate. “I just think it’s worth considering. It’s hard to believe she lived with him all this time and didn’t know any of this was going on.”

  Trevor pushed his half-eaten burger away, his appetite gone.

  Maggie frowned. “You’re upset.”

  He shook his head. “I just don’t like talking about my friends, is all.”

  She stared at him for a few seconds, then smiled. “Suit yourself. What kind of dessert are you buying me?”

  CHAPTER

  15

  TREVOR NEVER FULLY RECOVERED from the line of questioning during his so-called date with Maggie, and since he had little to no tolerance for pretending, it had no doubt been obvious to her that he wasn’t as removed from the Chris/Evelyn situation as he’d led her to believe. Or rather, as he’d led himself to believe.

  He did know one thing, though: he was a lousy date.

  The night ended abruptly as he fumbled an awkward good-bye, no promise of another phone call or conversation. She probably thought he was a jerk.

  And he was. A jerk with someone else on his mind.

  He should’ve known better. Had his relationship with Rachel taught him nothing? He had no business getting involved with anyone else.

  He’d first met Rachel at the farmers’ market downtown. Turned out she and her mom and sister never missed one, and when they spotted Trevor, they started making a point to frequent the Whitney Farms booth.

  She’d been everything he could’ve wanted in a wife—beautiful and kind and smart. She had an infectious laugh that he could still sometimes hear echoing at the back of his mind. He’d loved her in a way, but when it came down to it and she asked him if he was ready to commit to their relationship, he’d hesitated long enough to give her the answer that broke her heart.

  The look on her face had nearly killed him. He couldn’t let that happen again.

  He drove home from Barb’s in silence, and as often happened in the quiet of a dark truck, he started to pray. For Evelyn. For wisdom. For forgiveness.

  He’d wrestled for years with coveting what Chris had in Evelyn, and he begged God to forgive him almost daily. He’d go long patches without thinking about Evelyn or about what he didn’t have, but then he’d see her in the grocery store or read a story about Senator Brandt and his beautiful wife in the newspaper.

  Loves Park’s reigning king and queen.

  “She’s not mine to love, God, but I can’t abandon her. Not now.” The words trickled out as a whisper, and he prayed God would understand the position Trevor found himself in.

  No answer came. Nothing that told him to flee. Nothing that told him to be there for her. “I guess I’m on my own, huh?”

  On his own with what he already knew—that he had to keep his motives in check, and that meant resisting the urge to tell her to get as far away from Chris as she could. He’d never point out that his old friend didn’t deserve someone like Evelyn and he’d certainly never mention that if she’d chosen him that night he’d scored the winning touchdown against Dillon, her life would look very different right now.

  “I would’ve loved her right, Lord.” The words shamed him. Who did he think he was, confessing these kinds of desires? Justifying his feelings for a woman who was so far out of his league she practically had a different zip code?

  If Evelyn decided to try to work out her marriage, Trevor wouldn’t tell her to do otherwise. It wasn’t his place. And he didn’t want her to regret her decision because of him.

  When he pulled into the driveway, he couldn’t help but steal a glance at the bungalow. A light was on in the living room and he wondered if Evelyn was all right. Given the circumstances of the day—her panic attack and her run-in with Chris—he thought it would make sense to go check on her.

  This time, his only motive was her well-being.

  That’s okay, isn’t it, Lord?

  He wasn’t surprised when no answer came. Either God had bowed out of this moral quandary or it was fine to proceed . . . with caution.

  Or maybe God had stopped listening to him pray the same things over and over again.

  He drove toward the guesthouse, parked in the driveway, and made his way to the porch but stopped before he reached the stairs. In the distance, underneath two sprawling cottonwood trees, Evelyn sat in one of the two white Adirondack chairs that had been in that same spot since before his parents left the farm.

  He corrected his course and walked toward her, praying for strength and wisdom with every step that brought him closer.

  “Evie?”

  She barely moved.

  “You okay?”

  By the pale light of the moon, he could see she’d been crying, and once again he felt out of his depth. He could still throttle Chris for putting her through this, leaving Trevor to flounder as he tried to navigate the fallout.

  “I went to the store tonight,” she said, wiping tears from her cheeks. “I just wanted some ice cream.”

  Trevor sat down next to her.

  Evelyn drew in a staggered breath. “When I handed the cashier my card, she took one look at it and threw it back in my face.”

  His fists clenched—an involuntary reaction to what she said. “What?”

  “She said they couldn’t accept stolen money.” Evelyn’s voice shook as she recounted the scene. “She said it loud enough for the people waiting behind me in line to hear her.”

  Trevor swallowed what he wanted to say.

  “It’s not enough the FBI has restricted my access to our savings, but people I’ve known for years think I knew about all of it. They think I was a part of it.”

  Guilt nipped at him. The fleeting question had entered his mind at first too. Even at dinner with Maggie when the question of Evelyn’s innocence came up, he didn’t know if he was angrier that she’d asked it or that he’d wondered the same thing himself.

  But that was not something he’d ever say aloud.

  “It’ll blow over. You know how things are around here. As soon as there’s something new for people to talk about, everyone will forget.”

  She sniffed. “I wish I believed that. How many more weeks do you think it’ll be before it’s safe for me to come out of hiding?”

  He shifted in his chair, wishing for words that never came. Comfort, like conversation, was not his forte.

  Evelyn hugged her sweater around her more tightly, sleeves covering her hands. “I feel so stupid. I guess I just have some hard decisions to make.”

  He begged his heart to stop racing and reminded himself of what he already knew. He didn’t have the right to want her to leave Chris. He didn’t have the right to tell her
he never would’ve done this to her.

  It would be wrong. Just like not telling her about his part in all of this was wrong.

  So he stayed quiet, as usual.

  She pushed herself up out of the chair. “How was your date?”

  He was thankful for the cover of night; otherwise she might’ve seen the red hit his cheeks at the memory of the awkward date and his inability to focus on anything other than his concern for Evelyn.

  “Just trying to be a good friend.”

  Guilt brought up the rear of that thought, as it often did when he wasn’t being honest with himself.

  Wanting it to be true didn’t make it so.

  “You like her?”

  Trevor faced Evelyn. How he wished he could reach out and touch her. “She’s nice, yeah.”

  She smiled. “Good. You deserve someone nice. Even if you are kind of grouchy.” She clapped him on the arm and started for the door. “Thanks for coming to check on me.”

  “Anytime.”

  Her presence lingered long after she’d gone, long after he returned to the farmhouse, forcing himself to lie in bed. He knew her words were faulty—he didn’t deserve someone nice at all. What kind of man battled thoughts like he did or put his life on hold for a woman who would never—could never—be his?

  All those failed attempts at moving on taunted him now, but this time he had to see it through. Because he was pretty sure he couldn’t live with the guilt for one more day.

  CHAPTER

  16

  EVELYN HAD LEFT DENVER after her visit with Christopher tempted to rush straight back to Loves Park and file for divorce. He wasn’t sorry. He showed no remorse, and he certainly wasn’t going to change.

  So why did she wake up the next morning—the day of the hearing—with an unbearable burden on her shoulders? How could she abandon him when he needed her most? Yes, Christopher had let her down, and no, he wasn’t the man she wished he was, but he was still her husband. If she could help him, shouldn’t she?

  The pain of his betrayal collided with her overwhelming sense of obligation as she went through the motions of getting herself ready to drive to Denver and take her place at his side.