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Evan and Aria exchanged a few more words that appeared terse, and then Aria pulled something out of the bag she had on her shoulder, shoving it at him. He really had no choice but to take it, stepping back with the force of her handoff. Then she turned, holding up her key fob and clicking it. A red SUV parked at the curb flashed its lights.
Evan stood there for a moment looking torn, but then he turned, making his way slowly back to Noelle. “If you want to go after her, Evan—”
“I don’t.” He came inside and closed the door behind him. He set the folder down on the table and sat back down, running a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up in the front. She had a sudden, brief flash of the way his hair had looked in that cage. Overgrown, greasy. Messy in a similar yet different way than it was now. She dropped into her seat. “Sorry about that awkwardness,” he said.
“You don’t owe me an apology.” She folded her napkin over, and then folded it again. “You have a life. Relationships. And I don’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable. If she got the wrong impression, you should go fix it.”
“Should I?”
She raised her eyes, her hand stilling where she was fiddling with the napkin. “Should you what?”
“Set her straight on what’s going on with us?”
“Going on with us? There’s nothing going on with us.”
“No?”
“No. We’re investigating the crime we both lived through. What do you mean?”
A muscle in his jaw tightened. “Jesus, Noelle. Are we going to dance around this? You used to be more honest than that.”
She let out a short humorless laugh that communicated her sudden offense. Clearly, this was coming from whatever had just happened with Aria, but she didn’t fully understand it. Sure, she felt the tension in the air when they locked eyes. And, yes, she was attracted to him, who wouldn’t be? But so what? “I’m not dancing around anything,” she insisted. “Some things should just be left alone. We already decided that.”
“Things change.”
“What changed?”
“Well, we have a daughter, for one.”
“Yes, and we were just trying to figure that out.”
His nostrils flared slightly. “Don’t you think we should try to figure out what’s between us too? Still?”
“Figure out what’s between us? We already figured that out. Long ago. And it isn’t good for anyone.”
“Like I said, things change, Noelle. It’s been seven years since we decided that. We’re reinvestigating the crime we were victims of because new information came to light. Don’t you think it might be worth reinvestigatingustoo?”
“No,” she said, standing, the chair tipping backward and falling to the floor. “Stop it. What is this?” He stood, too, and she turned away. He came up behind her, and she halted as though his body were a magnet keeping her from pulling away. He put his hands on her upper arms and gently turned her to face him. “There’s even more reason nowthan there was then not to revisitus, Evan,” she said. She couldn’t stand it. Even talking about it hurt and made her remember exactly what it had felt like in the months after she’d left the hotel room that day, even before she’d found out she was pregnant. In a way, her pregnancy had helped mitigate the terrible grief of their separation because though she knew it was in both their best interests not to be together, she had a small part of him with her. Always. And it was enough. More than that.
Her daughter was the very air she breathed. She was the living embodiment of what could never be butwas. The most beautiful paradox. Callie. She turned her face, lowering her chin. “It’s good that you’re seeing someone else, Evan. She should be your priority, not me.”
“I’m not seeing her.” He swore, stepping away. She felt relieved. And bereft.
“Sleeping with her, whatever. It’s good. It’s healthy. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
She met his gaze and saw the anger there, the frustration. God, where had this come from? And why had it flared like this? It must mean that he had kept it tamped down and Aria showing up like that had set it off. “And you, Noelle? What about you? Are you havinghealthysex with someone? A few someones, maybe?” His eyes flashed. She saw the anger, but she also saw the hurt. “Did it help?” he asked, taking a step toward her again. They were close once more, and still she couldn’t move away.You can, Noelle. You don’t want to. Evan’s right. You used to be more honest.“That day in the hotel room? I’ve wondered. I’ve wondered a lot, actually. Did it help you loosen up? Were you able to enjoy yourself with other men because of me?”
“Stop it,” she said, and even she heard the tears that threatened in the sogginess of her voice.
“Why? You get to use me and not let me know if it was worth it?”
His words were sharp. They made her bleed inside. “God, Evan. It wasn’t like that. You know it wasn’t. Don’t make it ugly.” What they’dexperienced together that day ... it had hurt, and it had helped. And she held it in her heart as one of the most beautiful days she’d ever lived.
He let out a harsh breath, fisting his hair in his hands and stepping away. He turned, his shoulders curling forward, and she heard him swear under his breath. For a moment they both stood there, Noelle frozen as she watched his back rise and fall. After a minute, he turned toward her, his eyes speaking regret before his mouth did. “I’m sorry. God, what are we doing?”
“Did you really feel used?” she asked. Because she had to know. He’d been victimized, too, and if he’d walked away that day feeling worse rather than better, she was going to have a hard time forgiving herself.
“No,” he said. “No, I didn’t feel used. I’m sorry I said that. I spoke out of anger.” He looked away for a moment, his forehead smoothing out as he took in a big inhale of air. “I felt sad,” he said. “And I second-guessed myself. I felt ... God, so conflicted. I felt almost relieved, and I also wondered if I should have fought harder. For us.”
