She lets out a shallow laugh and sits back down on her chair, casually tossing her arm around the back of it. “Have your little show, Adam. Stomp your feet. Give your little speech. I’m not worried. You know why? Because you’ll be back. You always come back. And I always get what I want.”
I look at her, releasing a tired breath. “You’re right. I always say I’m going to leave. Always say no to that favor you want. No to that part in a film you desire. No to that problem you need me to sort. But then I always come back. Always do that favor. Always give you that part in the film. Sort that problem for you. But the thing is, Ava”—I take several steps toward her until I’m looming over her—“people have a fucking limit, and I reached mine when I found out that you stole my wife from me! Now, if I can’t make it any clearer that you and I are done, then you can take my extended silence as my answer.”
Then, I walk out of that house with the sounds of her yelling behind me, and I feel truly free for the first time in my life.
I’ve tried not to care, tried to pretend that I’m okay.
I know the truth now, so I can move on.
But thing is…I can’t.
The more I’ve sat and thought about what Ava did, the angrier I’ve gotten. The more I think about Evie keeping the truth from me while climbing into my bed and making me want her again, the more the anger manifesting inside me grows like a fucking tornado, and I feel ready to blow.
But worst of all, I miss Evie. I miss her more than I did in all those ten years combined. Even now, after all of this, I still love her.
Can you believe it?
I’m seriously fucked in the head.
But then Evie’s absence has always been the hole in my life that I could never fill.
Maybe I deserve this shit because I’m such a stupid fucker.
The bartender has just poured me another drink when the door to Reilly’s opens.
Max slides onto the stool beside me. “Good to see you’re spending your time off work effectively.”
“What are you doing here?” I pick up my glass and take a drink.
“Well, I haven’t heard from you in five days, which is a long time in our world and weird for you ’cause you always have been such a needy bitch when it comes to me. So, I called your office, and Mark told me that you weren’t in today and that you haven’t been in all week, which is odd for you because you never take a day off, not even when you’re sick. You know, I’ve never been able to wrap my head around that because you fucking hate that studio.”
“And your point is?” I take another drink before placing the glass on the bar. I curl my hand around it.
“My point is, the studio is where you hide. You hide in that place, burying your shit in your work. You’re not there, so something is severely wrong. I called your cell.” He points to it on the bar. “And you’re clearly ignoring that, so I stopped by the hotel.”
“You stalking me?”
“Always. You know I can’t get enough of your hot body.”
That almost gets a smile out of me.
“I’m your friend, Adam. I wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay.” Max tells the approaching barman, “Couple of fingers of whiskey and another of whatever this asshat is nursing.” He squints at my glass. “What the fuck is that anyway? Water?”
“Vodka, neat, assface.”
“If you’re looking to get shitfaced, that’s the way to do it.”
That’s exactly what I’m aiming to do, what I’ve been doing these past few days.
I take another sip of vodka, enjoying the burn down my throat. It’s the only thing currently reminding me that I’m still alive.
“I saw Evie.” Max drops the words into the air like a dirty bomb.
My eyes flash to his, and I slam my glass back down on the bar, nearly breaking it.
“You, what?”
“I saw Evie.”
“When?” I grit my teeth so hard that my jaw might shatter.
“When I stopped by the hotel, looking for you, and of course, you weren’t there. So, I went to the coffee shop.”
The barman puts our drinks down on the bar.
“Thanks,” Max says to him. He picks his glass up and takes a sip. “Fuck, that’s good.”