I take a step back, reach for my door handle. Panic fills his eyes at my retreat.
“Leo! Goddammit!” He begins to jog now. Chasing after me.
I throw myself into the car. I can’t talk to him right now. I can’t. I need to do this on my own.
Before I can shut my door, he catches it, risking his fingers to stop my escape. He pulls the door open, leans down so he is eye level withme, but before he can speak, before he can enchant me with his deep, soothing voice, before he can fix all my worries with his love…
“Phoenix.”
“No. Leo. Don’t do this to me again.” But his actions contradict his words because he lets my door go. And I slam it closed, driving away from him.
Have you ever been driving and then suddenly you arrive at your destination with no memory of actually driving?
Same.
Before I even realize, I am sitting in my parking spot. Hands gripping my steering wheel. My breath coming in hard pants. Then my keys are sliding into my lock, my door opening. It’s like I am blinking through time. One moment I am here—blink—then I’m there—blink—then I’m nowhere.
I run to my room, pull my coffee can out from under my bed, and dump it all over the floor. I riffle through every. Single. Note. Opening them all, looking for proof that he has signed more than one note Everett. Looking for proof that I didn’t run from my soulmate for eight years because of five extra letters.
Ev.
Ev.
Ev.
Ev.
Ev.
Ev.
Ev.
Ev.
Ev.
Ev.
Ev.
Ev.
Ev.
Ev.
Ev.
Ev.
Everett.
Forty-nine total he signed Ev. Only one is signed Everett.
I read it again, feeling the memory in my chest, hurting just as much as the first time.
I’m a mess of tears. Sitting on my floor, his love, his notes, his lies surrounding me.
