“Evie?” I breathe out her name, like I’m taking my first real breath in a very long time.
Her body stiffens at the sound of my voice. And I watch as her face turns my way. Those big whiskey-colored eyes that I fell in love with all those years ago meet mine, and my world stands still.
She looks exactly the same.
How is that even possible?
Maybe it’s not. Maybe I’m hallucinating. I mean, falling off the wagon with that chick might have tipped me over the edge, and now, I’ve finally boarded my very own train to crazy town.
I don’t know how much time has passed while we’ve been standing here, staring at one another. My hand is still holding the door open, my foot a step into the past, and my fingers are gripping the wood so tightly that I’m surprised I haven’t ripped a chunk out.
Then, her eyes shut down on me, and she looks away. It feels like she’s ripping my heart out all over again, and a rage I didn’t know possible floods my body and mind. And it’s all channeled in one direction—her.
I need to get out of here before I tear her and this place apart.
Turning, I step back and pull the door with me, slamming it so hard that the shop front rattles. I’m surprised I didn’t smash the windows.
I get about ten steps away before my blinding anger takes over and turns me back around, marching me straight back there.
The lobby is empty, which is a good thing because I probably look like an insane person right now—not that I actually give a fuck about what people think of me.
I yank the door open and stride through, banging it shut with as much force as I did the first time.
Evie’s big brown eyes are straight on me, wide and afraid.
Seeing her afraid like this should pull me back a step, but it doesn’t. At this moment, I don’t think a fucking dump truck could stop me.
I reach the counter and slam my hands down on the metal surface. Leaning forward, I stare at her with cold eyes.
“Why?” I say low, my voice hard.
“Wh-why, what?” Her tentative voice shakes, almost like she’s afraid to ask the question.
She should be afraid.
I stare down at the counter and take several deep breaths in and out, trying to control my rage. I can barely hear with the blood pounding in my ears.
One of my hands curls into a fist as I lift my eyes back to hers. “Why. Did. You. Fucking. Leave. Me?” I harshly bite each word out.
I want her to feel the pain in my words. I want her to feel every second of agony I’ve felt since she tore my heart out and shredded it to pieces.
Her lower lip trembles. She wraps her arm over her stomach and takes a small step back, away from my anger.
In all the time I knew Evie, I never really yelled at her—well, not like this anyway. And I never wanted to have to, but this is what she has reduced me to…reduced us to.
We’re two almost strangers with a world of hurt sitting between us.
Her eyes sweep the floor. “I-I can’t…”
She lifts them back to mine. I can see anguish and indecision in them.
“I…don’t know what to say.”
My chest is pounding so heavily that air is gusting out of me. “You don’t know what to say?” I yell, punching my fist on the counter. “How about the truth? How about telling me why you upped and disappeared on me a fucking week after we got married?”
Her eyes go to the wall over my shoulder. I see a shine of tears in them. It makes me ache for her, and that just pisses me off further. What right does she have to cry?
“I-I’m sorry,” she whispers.
I erupt again. “I don’t want your fucking apologies!” Well, I kind of do, but I want an explanation more. I want to know why she destroyed us…destroyed me.
I take a deep breath and try to even out my voice as I say, “I just want the truth, Evie. I just want to know why you left.”