He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just forget it. I’m sorry you had to see any of that.”
He started to walk away, and I reached out for him before remembering how much it had stressed him out when I’d done it earlier. I lowered my arm. “Ash, wait.”
As he turned back towards me, he spotted my hand returning to my side and he looked at me warily for a second. “Evie, please. Don’t ask any questions. Just let me go.”
Everything about him screamed that he was done. Done talking. Done thinking. It was like his brain had disconnected from the world and all he wanted to do was rest.
Boy, did I get that.
“Can you please promise me you’ll send me a message when you get home, so I know you got back okay?”
A small, slightly bitter sounding laugh left his lips that I didn’t understand. “Yeah. I will. Goodnight, Evie.”
“Goodnight, Ash.”
I’m home now. I’m really sorry about tonight.
After sending the Twitter DM to Evie, I threw my phone down on the sofa and kicked off the shoes Natalie had insisted I wore that pinched my feet, and all for what? She knew I didn’t want to go to a club; I never wanted to go to a club. I liked dark, loud venues with live music, and she liked bright lights, a DJ, and cocktails. It never used to matter. We’d found things we both liked to do, and did the other stuff with our friends, or alone.
I glanced at the clock that hung above the TV. It was getting close to midnight. That meant, if I wanted any sleep at all, I’d need to start right away. Natalie would probably get in between three and four, and then it would begin. I’d have to go through it all again, just like every other time I’d let her down.
Sickness churned around in my stomach, already anticipating what was coming.
Why didn’t I get up and leave?
But where would I go? Who would understand? Who would look at me and not think I was a fucking loser?
Natalie was right about that. She was always right.
My phone buzzed and I picked it up.
Evangeline West: You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you got home safely. Are you okay?”
Ha. No. I was definitely not okay.
Me: I’m fine. Thanks for meeting me tonight. I had a good time.
Evangeline West: I did too. But… I don’t know if we can do it again.
No.
But of course she wouldn’t want to see me again. She’d watched Natalie scream at me and seen me do nothing to defend myself. What kind of man puts up with that without saying anything? I should have come home, packed up her shit and told her to go. Except that would have made me an asshole too. I couldn’t throw her out in the freezing cold when she didn’t have a place to go.
Instead, I had to watch as my one opportunity of having a friend who might understand slipped away. Because, what was I supposed to do? Beg Evie to give me another chance? Another chance at what? We hardly knew each other.
But when she’d looked at me, I felt like maybe she might care a little.
Evangeline West: If I gave you my number, would you call me? Right now?
Nope. Because even if I don’t store your number and I delete evidence of the call, she’ll probably go through my phone bill. And even though there’s nothing for her to be concerned about, she’ll still make sure I pay for it.
Me: I need to get some sleep.
Evangeline West: Okay. Please take care of yourself. And message me if you need to.
Women confused the hell out of me. She didn’t want to meet up again but she wanted me to message her? I got that she was offering me someone to talk to if I needed it, but how could that ever happen? It was only by sheer fluke that Natalie didn’t insist on checking my Twitter account. She didn’t use it herself and believed I used it to follow bands and stuff. Which I did.
Me: I will.