“I remember you saying that the first night we met,” Evie crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow. “Do you remember what I said?”
“Some things are meant to end before you’re ready.”
Her eyebrows ascended.
“I didn’t expect you to get it verbatim, but yes,” she said, surprised. “That’s what I said, and it applies tonight as well because we can’t talk about this now. We’re supposed to be conveying diamond ring bliss and I’m pretty sure it looks instead like we’re miserable and fighting on our first day of being engaged. So unless you enjoyed getting chewed out by Iain, we’re going to change the topic to something pleasant. Right now.”
I studied her for a few seconds of silence. I refusing to let go of his argument, putting his foot down on his need to always be right, and it drove me insane.
“Fine. You know what? I’ll be a good girlfriend and compromise by telling you pleasant things about my mom,” she decided, barreling on before I could do or say anything to object. “You already know she’d skip out on eating just to feed us, but before Kaylie started using, she also used to throw a girls night for us every month where we’d all curl our hair, put on her lipstick and drink super diluted Minute Maid concentrate from plastic wine cups while watching Lifetime. Whenever I was sick, I’d nap in her arms on the couch and I’d feel her kiss my forehead in my sleep. She was really good at just hugging me and telling me everything would be alright. She was my first memory of warmth and comfort, and if you say you don’t know what that feels like, then you’re a liar.”
I wouldn’t say I didn’t know what that felt like. So once again, I said nothing at all.
“You can’t possibly tell me that you have never cried to someone before,” Evie challenged.
“As a toddler, I’m sure,” I offered, though it only earned me an incredulous look. “But my dad made it pretty clear by pre-school that crying wasn’t something boys did.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Probably, but I was too young to know better.”
Evie frowned, huffing hard and looking hell-bent on staying mad at me. But her expression slowly melted from anger to sympathy, and if it weren’t for the topic of our conversation, I probably would’ve smiled.
“You really haven’t cried since you were a toddler?” she asked dubiously. “That can’t be healthy. I cry over sad news headlines without even reading the article. I’m not saying that’s normal,” she laughed softly at herself. “But sometimes you just gotta let it out.”
“I cried once in eighth grade,” I said, remembering only in that second.
“Just that once?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“I lost a big game,” I replied, thumbing my bottom lip as the memories flooded back with a vengeance. I was thirteen and I was on my the verge of my first complete game shutout, but instead, I gave up a base-clearing triple in the ninth and got my team knocked out of the playoffs.
After the game, Pattie spotted the start of my tears and since she knew how my dad would react, she quietly gave me the keys to her Nissan. I wound up crying it out in her air-conditioned car while she walked around outside, sweating her ass off in 102-degree weather and just waiting for me to feel better.
“And at thirteen years old, you’re telling me that no one cared to comfort you?”
“My best friend’s mom let me cry in her car,” I said to shut her up.
“Well, that was nice of her.”
“Yes. It was.”
“That counts as something,” Evie said quietly before going altogether silent for awhile.
She bit her lip as she frowned down at her nails, looking as if she was contemplating something. When she finally looked back up at me, there was a glimmer of apology in her eyes.
“And the woman who let you cry in her car…” She trailed off for a second. “Was it Pattie Lillard?”
EVIE
My heartbeat picked up at the sound of her name off my lips.
But I couldn’t hide what I knew anymore. I felt like I was lying and somehow, I could lie to the world but apparently, I couldn’t lie to Drew’s face.
Even if it meant him looking at me now with an expression of anger laced with disgust.