“I come home to find some stranger in my house, ogling you, nearly fucking you with his eyes, and I’m just supposed to sit back and act like nothing’s happening?”

   “YES!” I screamed, my breath panting, heart pounding, hands shaking. “You’ve got no right doing anything about it! Besides, he was perfectly respectful. Nice, even. You didn’t have to go all Neanderthal on him. He thinks we’re married for Christ’s sake!”

   “You’re upset because I chased off the contractor? Were you going to date him, Evie? You don’t date, ever.”

   “I date.”

   “Not since Elliot.”

   His words sliced through me and my mouth fell open at his. He knew I didn’t like talking about Elliot.

   “I talk with him sometimes,” he continued, his eyes mean, purposefully trying to hurt me. “He hates you. Hates what you did to him. You’re the reason he left the country, you know. He couldn’t even stand to be on the same continent as you.”

   “Shut up,” I whispered, shocked at the acid dripping from his voice, the anger I’d never heard from him before.

   “Why should I? I think it’s time we talked, got everything out in the open. You and I have been silent for too long.”

   I shook my head. “I’m not talking to you while you’re like this, while you’re hurtful. I don’t know who you are right now.”

   “This is me, Evie. This is me after years of torture. You think a person isn’t changed after going through what I did? Watching my wife die? Watching someone I thought I could protect be taken right out from under me? There was no order in her death. No reason. Nothing I could piece together to make any sense. So I just had to watch.” He took an angry step toward me. “And then, there’s you. Always pretending to be something you’re not.”

   I gasped. “I’m not pretending to be anything,” I whispered. “You’re upset, Devon. I get that, but don’t take it out on me. I haven’t done anything.”

   “That’s exactly the problem. You haven’t done anything. Ever. Besides pretend. You’ve been pretending since the first day we met. Pretending there wasn’t this thing between us. Pretending it didn’t cloud every single time we’ve ever been in the same room. It’s exhausting pretending not to be drawn to you.”

   “I’m not pretending,” I said, my voice thick with the cries I was holding back. He came closer.

   “You are. All the time. Even now. And I’m tired of it.” He kept walking toward me and I kept retreating, until I was backed into the refrigerator, only to watch as his hands pressed flat against it right next to my ears, blocking me in.

   “Elliot won’t tell me what you did to him that made him hate you. Says it’s not his secret to tell. But I can hear in his voice how much you hurt him.” His eyes were darting back and forth between mine, and his face was so close. I wasn’t afraid he’d hurt me, but I was afraid that whatever was happening in that moment was going to change everything forever. “But I know your secret. It’s the same secret I’ve kept all these years.”

   “Please, Devon. Don’t…”

   “Don’t what? Be honest for once? Be real? What are you afraid of? Elliot’s gone. Olivia’s gone. It’s only us now. We’re the only ones we can hurt anymore. We can only damage each other.”

   “I don’t want to hurt anymore,” I pleaded with him, begged him with my eyes to let whatever tirade he was on go, to let us slip back into that place of un-acknowledgement, where we let our problems lie just under the surface and fester.

   “We’ve been hurting each other for years, Evie.”

   I nodded. “I know,” I whispered. His forehead came to rest gently against mine, his breath passing over my face. I reached forward tentatively and gripped his t-shirt in my fingers, wanting to touch him but afraid of how hard it would be to eventually let go.

   “We were both trying to be the better person for so long, and then Ruby came along, and life happened. And I swear to you, with everything that I am, I loved Olivia. I loved her and the family we made together. Not once did I think I’d made the wrong choice, Evie. I still don’t think I made the wrong choice. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t ever think about what my other option was. Didn’t wonder how life would have been with you. If only…”

   “Please, don’t do this. We can’t do this.”

   “If only I hadn’t walked away from you that first day.”

   I finally let out the cry I’d been holding in for what seemed like days. Years even. I dropped my forehead to his chest, pulled his t-shirt closer, and cried. I’d cried a lot in prior months, losing a best friend would cause that to happen. But those tears might have been the most gut wrenching I’d felt in a while. How many times, in that first year of knowing Devon, had I wished for the exact same thing? Wished he’d asked for my number, made an effort, and pursued me, done anything that would have given me a claim to him over Olivia.  Given me even one sliver of hope that what I’d felt for him was real.

   I cried against him and I felt his hands cradle the back of my head, holding me close to him. I felt his lips press against my hair, heard him whisper soothing words to me, telling me it was going to be all right. When the tears finally stopped, it wasn’t because I felt like I’d exorcized all the feelings I’d held inside for so long. No. The crying stopped because I was able to close the door that had been holding them in again. I felt the wall go back up, brick by brick, I tucked my heart away just like I had so many years ago. It was the only thing to do – the only way everything could remain the same – and I wouldn’t end up losing anything more.

   I slid away from him quickly, my hand coming up to wipe the tears his shirt hadn’t caught, as I grabbed my purse and left the house. I walked out the door listening to him calling my name, chasing after me. I slammed the door behind me, hoping that would be enough to deter him from following me. I made it to my car, but then realized I was crying too hard, making it difficult to find my keys in my purse. When I finally did, I started the engine and pulled away from the street, speeding one mile down the road before I pulled over. The tears were so thick I could hardly see the road, so I pulled into a gas station parking lot and cried until I was too exhausted to cry any more.

   When I finally pulled up to my studio, hoping to salvage the day and get a little bit of work done, I realized I’d left my camera sitting on the kitchen island at Devon’s house. So I cried all over again.

Chapter Eleven

Evening of Olivia’s Bachelorette Party

   “Well, I hope you’re satisfied,” I grunted, carrying most of Olivia’s weight, her arm wrapped around my shoulder, unable to walk on her own. I’d worn a short, black, cocktail dress, and impossibly high heels, per Olivia’s dress code for her bachelorette party. Of course, I’d complied; I didn’t want to be the only woman at the party who stood out like a sore thumb. However, now that I was practically carrying Olivia and contemplating trying to launch her onto my shoulder like a sack of potatoes, the outfit choice was looking like a poor one.

   “I am very satizzfied,” she replied, her speech slurred and sloppy. “Between the pregnancy and having a small baby at home, I haven’t been able to get drunk in a very long time, Evelyn.” She said my name like I’d done something wrong, like somehow her getting pregnant was my fault.

   “Well, I’m glad you were able to have fun,” I said in response, not really sure what I was supposed to say. As far as Olivia’s new life went, I understood it was a very sharp contrast to her old life – new baby, new fiancé – but in general, I found it hard to feel sorry for her. I was unable to deliver the sympathy she longed for from me. Sure, I put on a guise of feeling sorry for her because otherwise, it would cause a ripple in our relationship, but her life was a product of her choices and behavior. In addition, Devon had proposed to her, wanting to give her and their daughter a normal, family life. Well, I could find nothing terrible about that. So, my sympathy was reserved for people who actually needed it.