I sat up. “Hey, calm down. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“You didn’t see his face. I’ve never seen him like this, Eva. He said if I wanted Eric then he’s done with me.”
God, I wish. “Well, do you want him?” I pinched the bridge of my nose, squishing my eyes shut.
“I don’t fucking know! I don’t even know him. I mean, I said I didn’t, but I could tell he didn’t believe me.” She tried to catch her breath through her sobs. “Please, Eva. I’ve never asked you for anything, but I need you. I can’t talk to anyone else about this.”
Silence ballooned on the line as I chewed my lips, contemplating whether or not I could go through with this in the sober light of day. I swallowed, pushing down on the lump in my belly as my stomach churned over, wrought with anxiety that my long held secret would finally be revealed. That bastard weaseled himself into me like a debilitating fucking disease and, even if I purged it from my system, I wasn’t sure I could ever really be rid of it.
But she needed to know. It was time. Whether she believed me or not, I’d deal with the consequences. I couldn’t live with myself if I just let her marry him and never told her.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. There’s something I need to talk to you about, too.”
“Thank you. I love you.”
“Love you.” I pushed end and a bunch of missed texts from Blake popped up. I texted him back.
Me: Hey. I love you. Everything’s fine with us, but I need to go see Abby. We’ll talk later. XO
I combed my fingers through my hair and pulled it back in a messy ponytail, washed my face, and brushed on a few coats of mascara, not bothering to put in the customary amount of effort. I needed to get to her so I could get back here and explain everything to Blake.
Abby, I have something to tell you. No, that wasn’t right. Abby, Damon . . . he . . . No. Fuck, how was I going to do this? Straight out. I’d come straight out.
Abby, I slept with Damon.
God she was going to hate me. I fucking hate me.
It was a long time ago, and I was young. Na?ve. Please, let me explain before you freak out.
I tapped my foot impatiently as I waited to get my car from the lot. I slipped a tip into the attendant’s hand, tossed my bag across the seat, and pealed out.
Less than an hour later, I parked in front of my parents’ house. The driveway was empty. Abby’s car was probably in the garage, but I left the driveway open in case my parents came home early. I skipped steps, jogging up the porch, and flung the door open.
“Abby,” I called out. “See, I came as fast as I could. Where are you?”
I tossed my keys in the bowl by the door and took a few steps toward the kitchen when I froze.
Damon was standing in the way.
I’d never seen him so disheveled. He looked strung out, his shirt hanging from one side. Hair stuck up every which way as if he’d spent the night pulling on it, and his red-rimmed eyes were trained on me with a seething hatred.
I backed up a step, fear encroaching on my being like a smothering blanket. My limbs prickled to the point I thought them useless. “Where’s Abby?”
“Where’s Abby. Where’s Abby,” he mocked in an almost child-like manner. “Always with the where’s fucking Abby. I should be asking you that question, you little fucking slut.” Stumbling, he took a swig from a half-filled beer bottle hooked in his pointer finger.
I hadn’t noticed that before.
Who is this? This isn’t Damon. It was as though he was unraveled and shredded. It almost looked like the state he was in was scaring him. I put my hands up defensively, still backing up as he made his way toward me. Feigning the composure I wished I had, I attempted to reason with whoever it was he’d morphed into.
“Damon, it’s the middle of the afternoon. Have you even slept?”
He cocked his head to the side and placed the bottle on the end table with the faintest of taps. Almost calm.
That scared me more.
Bloodshot eyes met mine. “Slept? For real? My fiancé is fucking some other guy, and it’s all because of you and your little fucking boyfriend. You think I can sleep?” I flinched at the lashing his tone dished out.
Swallowing my fear, I straightened my spine. “Abby isn’t sleeping with anyone. She’d never do that to you. You need to sleep this off and calm down.” I reached for my keys.
But he was quicker.
In two large strides, his shadow cast over me. “Don’t tell me what I need to do.” My head flung to the side as the loud smack of his backhand filled the room.
I recoiled from the blow, sheltering my cheek. My eyes filled with water at the sting it left behind.
“Damon . . .”
“Shut the fuck up!” He grabbed my ponytail, twisting my neck at a painful angle. I screeched, clutching my head as he dragged me to the couch. He threw me down and my body bounced like a flimsy doll onto the cushions.