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What would she do? She had no one. Lucian was also her dearest friend and he was abandoning her. The actuality of her circumstances hurt more than the reality. Betrayal was a sharp object lodged in her heart.
Those words he was so desperate to hear her say were there, beating around in her tired mind, ready to come out now, but she forbade it. Now they were unwelcome for a whole new reason. She would never admit how much she loved him, because he had done exactly what she knew he would do. He pushed her away.
She must have faded into some sort of dazed sleep. Her eyes were open as though she had never shut them, yet she lost herself for some time. Things were calming down. Survival instincts were stepping in and quietly trapping all the irrational thoughts of desperation tearing through her insides like butterflies in a net.
Her unaccompanied existence now appeared unending, depressing, a huge, heaving giant breathing over her. She should just give up already. She was so tired of fighting. No one would miss her if she disappeared. But she was coming back to reality enough to know that wasn’t the answer.
She would fight, because that’s what she’d been doing since the day she was born, fighting to live, fighting to survive, fighting for the love no one ever gave her without conditions. She was a scrapper. She was not some polished woman named Evelyn. She was Scout. She had survived much worse than this. All she needed to do was get up and move.
So why did that seem so terrifyingly daunting?
***
When dusk arrived she showered and took time to really wash herself. She went through her clothing and belongings and selected only sensible items like jeans, sneakers, thermals, and sweats. She cleaned up by sweeping all her useless cosmetics into the trash can.
Rather than wasting time on frivolous things that only disguised her as someone else, she pulled her hair back in a long ponytail and removed all her jewelry except the bracelet she made. She wanted nothing from him, but knew she couldn’t be stupid and cut off her nose to spite her face.
When she was ready, she fought back her sadness. Staring fiercely at her pathetic reflection, she hissed, “You will not cry. You’re stronger than that. Get to Folsom and get the fuck out of here. You never have to see him again.”
With a deep, shaky breath she lifted her bag and unlocked the bedroom door. The house was quiet. She slowly took the stairs and noticed a few items by the door, Lucian’s briefcase, his coat, some files. He wouldn’t have been able to pack while she was in the room with the door locked.
She placed her things near the door, but away from his pile. Turning, she jumped when she spotted him watching her from the other end of the foyer. They stared at each other for a minute. He looked terrible. There was no question in her mind he hadn’t slept.
“Are you ready? I’ll get the rest of your bags.”
“This is all I’m taking,” she said, proud that her voice didn’t waver.
“I can have your other things sent to the apartment—”
“I’m not going to your apartment.”
“Evelyn—”
“Don’t call me that.”
His lips pressed together. Exhaustion seemed to radiate from his pores. “This can all change if you just agree—”
“You’re not the person I thought you were. I will never agree to be anything to you ever again. I’d like to go ho—return to the city. Now.”
He nodded and began shutting off the lights. She waited by the door as he went upstairs to retrieve the last of his things, several times blinking back tears. There was no reason for this that she could think of. No point in taking a month apart—on a break—only to get back together. This month apart would tear them apart. There would be no mending things.
She hated him for doing this. She hated him for making her love him. She hated knowing this was the last time she would ever see the estate again, ever know this kind of peace again.
Her thoughts climbed over memories, committing them to some shadowed corner of her mind she could examine later, when she was stronger. She wanted to remember certain moments of their time together, never wanted to forget the scent of fresh lilacs or the feel of lazing in his arms on a rainy afternoon.
It was never about the money or the comfort. It was about sanctuary. It was about the peace that came with surrendering her trust to a man and letting him guard her heart for a change. She never imagined something could feel so wonderful. However, she never knew such extreme misery as having that love and trust trampled on by the one person she believed incapable of such cruelty. It was complete betrayal and she needed to stop romanticizing things and get real.
