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They’re not the same eyes I looked into every time he made love to me and every time he looked into my eyes and told me he loved me—or rather lied to me. They’re the same shade of dark brown with the same gold flecks close to the pupils, but the man who stares back at me seems almost callous, and I can’t help but wonder who he is now. He’s no one I need to be reacquainting myself with. Not after—
I force myself to take a breath. And another.
“That’s it, Eve.”
“Don’t.”
His jaw tics and his hold on my chin tightens. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t act like you care.” My eyes never leave his, and I put every ounce of my anger into my voice. “Don’t act like I mean anything to you because we both know I don’t. You left me here. You abandoned me.”
His teeth clench and his chest rumbles with a barely restrained growl. “I left you?”
“Yeah, you did, Declan. I spent a lot of time picking up the pieces of my heart and trying to put myself back together. You nearly destroyed me once, and I’ll be damned if I let you do it again. Please forget I ever existed, because once I turn around, I’m going to force myself to forget your name.”
In an instant, he releases my chin and takes a step back. His chest heaves and his hands fist at his sides. For a second he looks hurt, vulnerable, and I’m sure it’s a ruse. The minute he opens his mouth to respond, I run.
I run and I don’t look back. I don’t stop until I’ve slipped in the side door of Saint John’s Catholic Church.
And only then, with my back pressed against the heavy wooden door do I let the tears fall. I let the despair and the misery and the wretched feeling of loss wash over me. I let myself remember what once was. The love I had before it turned caustic, eating me from the inside out.
I push up my sleeve past my wrist and run my thumb across the scars that mar my skin, a reminder of all the ways I failed, of what I lost.
Declan can’t find me again. I’m not strong enough to face him and our past.
Once the tears have stopped falling, I sink down to my knees and pray.
I pray for forgiveness. I pray for strength.
And more than anything, I pray that I don’t break.
CHAPTER FOUR
EVE
It’s been a week since I left Declan on the sidewalk outside the strip club.
A week since my old wounds were ripped open, leaving me to bleed out, to choke on my own misery.
I haven’t cut myself since the night I locked away my pain—the night I cut too deep—but now that all these feelings are bubbling to the surface, it’s all I can think about. I wish the prayers and the penance worked. I wish it actually made me a stronger person, but I’m not. I’m as weak today as I was then. Not much has changed, only my choice of wardrobe.
It’s almost time for mass, and as I slip outside the small classroom we use for choir practice, I swear I see Declan’s shadow tucked in a darkened alcove, but when I look again, I see nothing but empty space. This isn’t the first time I thought I saw him in the church. I’ve been seeing his ghost all over the place, a gentle reminder he’s still out there, and sooner or later, he’ll find me again.
The Declan I knew would never give up without a fight.
The other sisters shuffle into the pews as the afternoon services begin. I hang off to the side, standing in the shadows, letting my own darkness devour me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I swear I see Declan’s watchful eye yet again, but when I turn, there’s nothing there. Just like always.
I’m slowly sinking into madness. The loss and despair festering in my heart is eating away at my mind.
There’s no way Declan is actually here watching me. That would mean he cares. I’m sure I’m already forgotten.
My own parents probably don’t even remember my name. Once they shipped me off to deal with my problem, they never called, never checked in. It was like I no longer existed. I’m sure I don’t fit in with their perfect life anyway. Last I heard, my father was considering a run for the Senate.
That’s the story of my life though. I never really seemed to fit in anywhere.
Except with Declan.
