Page 50 of The Route to You

“I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do, but I think it might be time for you to call him.” Kyle’s voice was gentle, but she heard the strain under it. “You can use my phone and conceal the outgoing call number if you want.”

She squeezed her eyes shut.

He is such an asshole.

Evan was playing the victim.

If he controlled the narrative that something had happened to Sloan—that she didn’t run from him on the day of their wedding—he gained sympathy. This was as much about him getting his way as it was about damage control. Missing fiancée—it was brilliant, really, because even if the truth came out later, which would involve revealing his infidelity, he’d already seeded doubt. Always the schemer.

She could practically hear Bernice encouraging him to do this, too.

And Sloan refused to let him win this round—either of them. As the day had gone on, she’d felt stronger about her decision to bail.

I feel like I’m finding parts of myself that have been hidden for years.

“Fine,” she breathed. “Just tell me what I need to do to hide your number, because I don’t want him harassing either of us. Though I can’t guarantee he won’t have the FBI listening at this point if he’s taken it this far.”

Kyle hesitated and nodded, then leaned in, punched a code in the keypad, and handed it back. “Here’s hoping. I’ll leave you so you can have some privacy,” he said, starting past her.

“No—” The word had come out too fast, too filled with need, and her embarrassment flooded onto her cheeks. “Can you stay? Please? At least . . . at first?”

Surprise flickered in his face. Then he nodded, quietly, like that it was easy for him. Like her asking wasn’t a burden.

He crossed toward the bed and sat, folding his hands as he waited for her.

Sloan turned toward the closed door, phone trembling in her grip. She sucked in a shallow breath and dialed.

One ring. Two.

Evan answered on the third. “Hello?”

“Evan?” Her voice came out unsteady, thinner than she wanted.

“Christ, Sloan, where the fuck are you? Are you safe?”

“For God’s sake, Evan, stop the masquerade already.” Heat rose on her skin. “I told you I was leaving. I told you it’s over. You must’ve gotten the email already. I know all about your side⁠—”

“No, listen to me. You don’t.” His voice hit that smooth, urgent cadence he used when he wanted something from her. “That girl is crazy. She means nothing to me, baby. God, I wish you would’ve just talked to me. This is insane. You walked out on our wedding day, Sloan.”

“If she meant nothing to you then why did you fuck her?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I didn’t.”

She’d expected the denial, but the bluntness of it made her falter for a second.

Could it be possibly true?

She closed her eyes, trying to breathe, her head spinning.

This is why I left.

I knew he’d do this. Twist it. Smooth it. Make me doubt my own eyes.

Silence must have fed him hope. “I can explain,” Evan pleaded. “Please, baby, just come back and let me explain. It’s not real. She must have used one of those programs to fake texts to fool you. To destroy my relationship with you.”

She must have. That made her lips quiver. So, he wasn’t denying that there was a woman out there trying to destroy his engagement. Just that she’d invented all of it.

“Then explain how she had pictures of your dick.” Her voice trembled with anger. “Explain how she knew which hotels and cities you flew to in November and December. How she texts exactly like you—same nicknames, same everything.”