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But I couldn’t. I was scared of the skin contact and the electrifying feeling of pressing my palm to hers. I knew it would hurt Hannah. I knew how soul-destroying it would be for me to make a move on her new best friend. She might not have believed it, but Hannah was the single most important thing in my life. She was all I had left of her mother, and more than that, she was the culmination of all our years together. When she was younger, it had just been us against the world. Hannah was the smiling face always waiting for me at home. She was always proud of everything I did, even if she didn’t say it. I always regretted that we weren’t closer, and I felt like I’d missed the chance for that to happen, but I wasn’t about to push her further away from me with an infatuation that I could probably squash.
I made the decision that I would do whatever it took to keep my distance from Evelyn. I knew it would make me come off as colder and more distant than usual, but there was no other way. I pursed my lips, made sure I steeled my heart against the beautiful woman in front of me and turned to answer the knock at the door.
I welcomed my guests with a smile and ignored the confusion in Evelyn’s eyes.
There was no universe where we could ever be together.
Chapter Three
Evelyn
Present-day: October
Hannah’s taste in clothing was expensive.
Beautiful, granted, but very,veryexpensive. I stood in front of the mirror in my small apartment, wishing I was wearing my pajamas. The heels would hurt my feet later, I was sure of that. Over the past year, I had slowly opened my mind and my wardrobe up to the idea of wearing high heels, and I had long since learned what to expect from them. The tiny purse hanging from my shoulder by a gold chain wouldn’t hold my favorite flats, so I had resigned myself to a night of suffering. After a few drinks, I knew I wouldn’t care that much anyway.
My dress was something I never would have picked for myself, but I couldn’t deny I looked good. It was all black mesh, starting from a choker around my neck, down to grazing my mid-thigh. Underneath was the body of the dress, a solid black bodice attached to a black skirt. The material was soft against my skin and fitted my shape. I had a sneaking suspicion that Hannah had it tailored to fit me the way she thought it should. The label on the back suggested it cost more than a few months’ rent, but Hannah had given me a dark, threatening look when I told her I couldn’t accept it. We were going clubbing. It was something I hadn’t done in a long time, and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to go. I loved dancing, loved the atmosphere of everyone having a purely euphoric time.
What I didn’t love were the drugs, the people passing out from drinking too much, the sticky floors, and bathrooms you had to wait in a line to use. It would be ungrateful to turn her down though, and I knew that after a couple of drinks, all my concerns would fade into nothing. I opened my clutch to make sure I had the ID Hannah had gotten for me— it was immature to use a fake one, but I also knew we had a snowball’s chance in Hell to go anywhere fun if I didn’t have it. The other, (in my opinion, less fun) reason we were going was that Hannah was also determined to find someone who would sweep me off my feet. I couldn’t tell her that there was already someone I wanted.
I was pretty sure that if she knew I was crushing on her father, she’d have hated me.
I couldn’t help it. Ever since that night, I saw his face in my head. At first, I told myself that it was some kind of savior complex and I was only attracted to him because of how we met. But it had been months since the attack, and I still wanted him with every fiber of my being.
I spun away from the mirror, unable to keep staring into the eyes of the needy girl in front of me. I touched up my makeup, made sure my hair was up in the long ponytail I preferred for clubbing, and stalked out the door.
I met Hannah at a restaurant she made us reservations at. The plan was to go there, then back to hers for a couple of pregaming drinks before heading out. I knew that her chef had probably baked me a cake, and she was using pregaming as an excuse to take me back to hers to have cake. Hannah loved cake. I couldn’t deny that if I had her chef, I’d probably love cake too. When I stepped out of the taxi, Hannah, of course, looked amazing. She had on a slim black dress that hugged her legs and was draped loosely over her chest. She definitely looked ready to dance the night away, her hair framing her face and her lips painted bright red.
“Evvie!” She called, throwing her arms around me, “Happy Birthday!”
I hugged her back, feeling her warmth seep into me. She led me into the restaurant, where I knew to expect nothing less than luxury treatment. She took great delight in treating me, and it only made me feel even guiltier for the feelings I was harboring for her father—for Julian.
Julian himself had never given any indication that he might be interested in me. In fact, all evidence pointed to the contrary. He would make special efforts to leave any room I was in, and would almost glare at me if I got too close. Hannah assured me that her father was simply a closed-off man, but I could tell from her expression when she said this that he was more severe with me than usual. I didn’t know what I’d done to insult him, but he was nothing like the man I met on the night of my attack. Occasionally, I doubted whether he remembered me. I hadn’t mentioned to Hannah that my rescuer had been her father. At first, it had been self-preservation; I didn’t want to risk our friendship because of what I thought was a fleeting crush. Now, it would just be strange to bring it up.
Dinner was wonderful. Hannah and I mostly talked about college, and I shared the gossip from my workplace. She oohed and ahhed in all the right places as if she knew my co-workers personally.
“Really? Old Stephen tried to hit on her?” she snorted.
“Yes!” I crowed, laughing as well, “and the best part is, she’s a lesbian!”
I was concerned for the sip of water that she took, scared it might come back out with the intensity of her laughter.
“Gosh,” she said, swallowing and finally calming down a little, “Maybe I should get a job there—it sounds wild!”
“Ugh, you havenoidea!”
The thought of Hannah wearing my all-black uniform and rushing between patrons was surreal. It’s not that I thought she couldn’t do it, she’d just be so out of place from her usual life that I couldn’t quite picture it. I knew she was much more comfortable in her job as one of the research assistants at our university.
We continued to talk through the meal, maybe being a little louder than most of the respectfully quiet patrons, and when we left, I’d had enough wine to put me in a jolly mood.
“Right, home, and then dancing!” I said, beaming out the window. “Thanks for tonight, Han!”
“Evening’s not over yet!” My friend replied, steering us towards her house.
We arrived, and the place was lit up, but no one was around. Usually at least one of the maids would be wandering to their next job. We passed the kitchen, and I could see through the glass partition that no one was there—no chef, no cake. I must have been wrong.
“To the bar!” Hannah giggled, and I followed her to the elevator.
