Page 80
Mouth open, Evie didn’t look like she was buying it. “There’s spontaneous and then there’s cruel.” They both resumed walking. “You’re better off rid.”
“Yeah…” Nick flashed a resigned grin.
Evie blinked several times. “Oh god. You’re missing her, aren’t you? And I dissed her!”
“No, it’s not like that. Hayley was like Times Square: fun and flashy, but a bit too much. And completely exhausting. Loved raisins, too, the heathen.” Nick’s smirk met Evie’s smile. “What about you? Missing Angry Eyes all these months?”
She snort-laughed. “Hardly.”
“Good. He didn’t deserve you.”
“Did Sam say something?” She picked at her nail polish.
“No, but if Stuart couldn’t see you as the smart, caring person you are, he can fuck right off.”
Evie grinned demurely. “Aw, nice to know you care.”
“I do! A lot, actually…” His gaze lingered. “Evie, I’m really sorry. I should’ve called you. Just to hear your voice would’ve—” He let out an unsteady breath.
“Oh, Nick,” she said quietly. “You had more? Were they bad?”
He dropped his chin to his chest. “I abandoned Hayley at her sister’s wedding.”
“What happened?”
“We were sat at the head table. The attack came on quick, felt like seconds. I barely had time to drop my fork before legging it to the loo.”
“That must’ve been scary, being alone.”
“Ahh, but I wasn’t,” said Nick. “She ran after me.”
Evie’s eyes widened. “Oh. Hayley knew?”
“No. I blamed the meal for my hasty exit, thinking she’d leave me to it, but nope. I had no choice; I had to kneel and pretend I was gonna puke. She couldn’t disappear fast enough.”
Approaching another road, Evie gestured to their right. “We turn here. How’d you feel after?”
Nick followed her lead and peeled around the corner. “Wobbly, sweaty, out of it—the worst wedding date ever. Hayley called a cab and sent me home with an empty champagne bucket in case I was sick. Definitely not my finest moment.”
“But it wasn’t your fault.”
“True, but something had to give. Come the Monday, I rang a therapist. It’s been almost three months now and we’re making progress. Slowly.” The medication Nick had been prescribed was helping, too, but he conveniently left that part out. Seeing a psychologist was a big enough reveal for one day.
“You did the right thing.” She squeezed his arm. “Really.”
Same old Evie: empathetic, supportive, discreet. “You reckon?” He did a double take. “It’s not…you know, a bit crap? Being weak?”
“No! Asking for help is a total power move. I’m so proud of you!”
Her effusive praise, kind and reassuring in its sincerity, felt like coming home. “Ah, cheers, Evie. You’re the only person I’ve told. Not everyone understands like you do.”
She looked up, meeting him. “Your secrets will always be safe with me.”
Nick broke into a slow grin. “You know, I’ve missed this. Us talking…”
Her smile crinkled her eyes. “Same.” She ran a hand through her long hair and paused like she was building up to something. “Would you like to go to the County Show with me this Saturday?”
The granddaddy of Orkney’s annual agricultural fairs—beloved by farm-friendly Rupert, spurned by city-loving Nick. Farmers from every corner of the archipelago would descend on Kirkwall’s Bignold Park with their cattle, horses, and sheep.
