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“Evie, you were only eighteen,” said Sam. “That’s far too young for a serious relationship, especially long distance. I figured time apart might help you see sense.”
“And break us up.”
“If I’m honest, yeah. But you have to see I did it out of love,” said Sam. “I thought it would be best for everyone.”
Evie pushed her lips out. “Not your call to make, Sam.”
“I know that now.” Scratching his scruff, he stared downward. “I’ve been dreading this day. You finding out…you hating me.”
“Yeah, well”—she swiped her cheeks—“it sucks getting caught out, doesn’t it? You know, I can’t even look at you, let alone talk to you right now, so—”
“Evie, I’m sorry—”
“Please Sam, just go.”
Glancing at Nick, he hoisted himself out of the chair and grabbed his windbreaker. He left the living room without further protest.
Evie waited for the front door to snap closed then spoke. “The day after my surgery, Sunita told me she’d texted you. She didn’t approve of me keeping you in the dark.”
“You didn’t want me to be there?” asked Nick.
“I did, but not at the expense of you playing Judas.”
“Can I ask…did you know you needed surgery when I first told you?”
Evie nodded.
“I would’ve delayed my flight, joined the tour later.”
“That’s why I didn’t say anything. I was worried you’d find out and quit. I even googled ‘actor breaking contract’ and read that it usually ruins their reputation. That sealed it for me: I’d tell you after the surgery, once you were in Japan.”
“You were protecting me and I was protecting you.” Nick looked down then met Evie’s eyes again. “Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I knew I couldn’t live with myself if I delayed your recovery or made your Crohn’s worse.”
“I don’t think you would have. If anything, you would’ve helped. Do you remember our first phone call after my surgery?”
Nick grinned faintly. “Two days after—the longest forty-eight hours of my life. You apologized for keeping it secret like ten times before rattling off a list of questions: how was my hotel room? Did it have a view? What was sushi like?”
The memory warmed her heart. “Just hearing your voice, I swear my smile could’ve powered the whole hospital. I even managed two slow laps of the ward with my nurse after. She was amazed. I wasn’t. I knew you would spur me on. You did for weeks.”
“I hated being separated from you.” Nick blinked away. “Hated the tour…”
Evie tilted her head. “You never said.”
“Because you’d worry.”
True. “What went wrong?”
“What didn’t,” said Nick. “It was a disaster from start to finish. I was homesick and missing you. Didn’t want to socialize with my castmates, who mistook my reticence for snobbishness. Then the one time I did go out with them, I caught mononucleosis from a shared glass and ended up out of the show more than I was in it.”
She blinked rapidly. “You told me it was laryngitis.”
“Yeah. Another wee fib so you wouldn’t stress. The mono coincided with panic attacks and a bout of depression. I could barely get out of bed let alone message you about it. I felt like such a twat, feeling sorry for myself when you’d had major surgery and barely said a peep about it. I asked you, but you wouldn’t—”
“I know.” Evie tugged at the hem of her hoodie. “I didn’t want to be a bummer.”
“You told me only good things. How bad was it—really?”
“It was hard,” her voice softened. “The surgery cut through my stomach muscles. I lost all my core strength. I had trouble lying flat, walking and standing. And coughing and sneezing hurt like hell.”
