Falling In (26 page)

Shit
. That was like five minutes ago.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I jump out of the bed as quietly as possible, internally praying that Jake doesn’t wake up before I leave. I creep out of his room and down the stairs safely, pausing at the door with my hand on the knob, feeling guilty for leaving him upstairs without saying goodbye. But I tramp that down. This is more important—I think. I don’t know anymore. All I do know that I’m not ready to deal with this mess yet. I’m just not.

Before it’s too late, I open the door and back out, attempting to close it silently but failing miserably. I wince from the noise and wait another moment before turning around and heading home before Cole gets there.

At least that was the plan.

What I didn’t expect was to see Cole outside our house, staring right at me, standing at the bottom step with one foot on the next. His jaw clenched and his eyes burning with unanswered but accusatory questions.

I must’ve lost my hearing at some point in the last few seconds, because I didn’t hear the door open until it was too late. I feel his arms wrap around me, tightly, affectionately. Not at all neighborly nor friendly.

“Hey, were you just gonna leave me in bed without saying goodbye?”

              Fuuuuuuuuck.

              “Cole.”

              I can feel Jake’s head look up from my hair, and from the way his body goes rigid around me, I know he sees what I see. It happened so fast I couldn’t have stopped it, even if I’d had the strength of five men. All I could do was stand there and watch Cole run in our direction, charging Jake like a damn linebacker. Jake pushes me out of the way right before Cole tackles him to the ground.

              “You motherfucker! Who do you think you are? Laying your goddamn hands on her? She’s
mine
!” Cole screams, just before Jake flips him onto his back.

              “You sure about that? She wasn’t in your bed a few minutes ago.”

              “Fucking asshole!”

              And that’s when they really get into it. Rolling around the porch, punching at each other, screaming every damn profanity they can think of. Meanwhile, I’m screaming at both of them to stop acting like a pair of drunken frat boys in a brawl.
Shit, I know this is all my fault, but couldn’t they just listen for a damn minute?

              Having had enough of watching a crappy-ass version of an MMA fight, I try to pull Cole off Jake, wedging myself between them. But it doesn’t work out so well, because before I know it, I feel a searing hot pain in my jaw, and I scream out in shock. They both look up at me with concerned eyes.

              “Fuck, Evie. Did I do that?” Cole’s off Jake instantly, with both men scrambling to their feet to be by my side.

              “Shit, Evangeline, are you okay?” Jake cups my cheek, only to get his hand knocked away by Cole.

              “Don’t you dare fucking touch her!”

              “I’m not the one who hit her, asshole!” Jake says, shoving Cole to the side.

              I can see Cole’s face, and he should be so pissed at me, feel betrayed, and near murderous at what I am sure he assumes is going on. But all I see is concern and remorse in his eyes. It rips my fucking cold as ice heart in half. I place my hand to Cole’s already swollen cheek and give him a small smile.

              “Hey, it was an accident. I’m okay. Nothing a cold steak can’t fix. This is all my fault, anyway.”

              “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t paying attention. I would
never
hit you. You know that. I swear, Evie,” he pleads, clearly on the verge of tears.

              “I know. I know.” I say before he pulls me into his arms.

              “Evangeline?” I hear behind me. I turn to find Jake staring at me with eyes to match his face, wounded and nearly broken. I have no words for him. I don’t know what to say or how to say it, especially in front of Cole. All I can do is shake my head at him.

              I turn back to Cole, and find him wearing the same look as Jake. Staring at us, like he just found out that everything he’s ever known has been a lie. A scam.

              And I’m terrified that what he’s feeling is now true.

              Without a word, he stumbles down the stairs, walking back toward our house. Only, he doesn’t go to our house—he gets back into his truck. It’s like I’m in a movie, watching this happen to someone else. I’m in a total daze. I can’t move, or even think. All I can do is watch my worst nightmare unfold before my eyes. And then I hear his engine rumble and realize that he’s actually leaving.
My Cole is leaving
. I run down the steps, screaming his name.

              “Cole. Cole, don’t leave! Please, Cole.
Cole
!” he looks me dead in the eye as he backs out of our driveway before peeling out and leaving me stranded between our two houses. Everything hits me at once, full force and I collapse on the grass, sobbing hysterically. I feel like my whole world has just dissolved in front of my eyes.

              Strong hands pick me up off the ground and pull me into equally strong arms. I inhale Jake’s familiar scent as I continue to cry, burrowing my face into his chest.

“
Shhh
, let’s get you inside, okay?”

I let Jake carry me inside the house. He sits down on the couch, still holding me in his arms, stroking my hair and telling me that everything will be okay, over and over again. I wish I believed him, but I don’t.
How can I?
I royally screwed up everything, and I have no idea how to fix it.
No, that’s not right
—I know exactly how to fix it, it just hurts my heart to think about what I would have to do. To be honest, I don’t even think I can. Or want to. I do know that Jake can’t be here for that, though. If Cole comes back and sees him here, I don’t know what he would do.
It wouldn’t be anything good, that’s for sure
. My tears begin to dry up, turning into post-crying shudders. I look up with my puffy, streaked face and meet concerned but unsure eyes. He wipes away any residual wetness before placing a tender kiss on my forehead.

              “Jake?”

              “Yeah, babe?”

              “I think—”

              I let out a huge sigh before starting again, worried that I’m going to crush him, too. “I think you should probably go. Cole could come back at any moment, and I just don’t want him to see you here. I don’t want to hurt him more than I already have today.”

              I watch him slowly take in a breath. I just know he’s hurting, too, but trying his damnedest to mask it.

              “Yeah, you’re right. I should go.” He pulls my face to his, kissing my mouth lovingly. “Make sure you put some ice on your cheek, okay? I don’t want you to bruise.” He maneuvers me off of him and sets me onto the couch before standing up with slumped shoulders. I grab his hand before he turns to leave.

              “Jake.” I give him an apologetic look, unsure of what I can say to him right now that would make him feel better about us. Like he can read my thoughts and intentions, he answers without looking at me directly.

              “I’m fine. Really. But you’re right—I should really go. Call me if you need me, okay?”

              I nod my answer and watch as he walks away from me and out the door. As it shuts, my body jumps from the sound, the finality of it. I’m left alone, and I’ve never felt more so in my life. Cole has always been there for me, through my lowest lows, highest highs, and everything else in between. I’ve always had his shoulder to cry on and his hand to hold. His tender kisses have made me believe that no matter what happens, it will always work out, as long as we had each other to lean on.

             
God, what am I doing?
What have I done to
us
?

              And why can’t I stop?

              I curl up onto the couch, not yet strong enough to move. I’m dreading when the kids come home, and I need this time alone to wallow in my self-pity and hatred. It takes about five seconds for the tears to come back. Only, I’m not even sure what I’m crying about now.
Cole leaving, or Cole finding out? The hurt I’ve caused him, or the hurt I will cause one of them when I have to choose?

I
will
have to choose. Maybe not today, but soon. Sooner than I thought.
Sooner than I’d hoped to
. Just thinking of saying goodbye to either the man I’ve always loved or the man that I think I could love rips away a jagged piece of my soul.

I’m not ready.

And what’s worse—I don’t know the right answer.

I cry so hard, I end up putting myself to sleep. I’m not sure how long I’m out for, but I end up waking up to the sound of my phone vibrating beside me yet again. I’m disoriented, and I have the unsettling feeling of déjà vu. My face feels puffy and swollen, and for a few seconds, I forget what happened earlier. But then it all comes flooding back to me, and I feel a pang in my chest that I’m afraid won’t go away anytime soon.

I slowly sit up, reaching for my phone. My hands are shaking as I pick it up, nervous to see what awaits me. When I turn it on, I see the time, and jump off the couch. The kids should have been home thirty minutes ago.
Where the hell are they?

I swipe the unlock screen and tap open the missed text I have from Cole.

              Cole: I picked up the kids. Don’t make dinner. We’ll be home before                                                         bed.

I breathe out a sigh of relief, sitting back down on the couch and letting my heart settle down to a normal rate. I grab my phone and hover over the keys, knowing I should text him back, but terrified to make contact. I take another deep breath before typing.

              Evie: Ok, I’ll be here waiting. Thank you for letting me know. I love you                                                         Cole.

            
 
I wait for a few minutes—
or maybe twenty
—just staring at the screen, willing him to text me back. I knew I pushed it by telling him I love him, but I needed him to know. No matter what, I do love him. He’s never not said it back to me.
Ever
. But I don’t blame him. I don’t think I could say it back to me, either.

              I can’t sit here all night waiting around for them, looking and feeling pitiful. So I pick myself up off the couch and wander to the kitchen, in search of something to keep myself busy. I attempt to make something to eat, but my heart and stomach just aren’t in it. So I do what I always do when I’m stressed—I clean. Grabbing my homemade cleanser and paper towels, I get to cracking on the kitchen, starting with the stove.

              It’s not long before I’ve not only cleaned the stove but also the countertops, the floors, and am now in the process of reorganizing the fridge. I’m throwing away an expired salad dressing when I hear the door open and two sets of little footsteps enter the house. What I don’t hear are a third, larger pair.

              “Mom?” the kids yell from the living room.

              I get up off my knees, closing the fridge door before I jog through the hall toward the living room.

              “Hey, kiddos!” I greet, trying to muster as much enthusiasm as I can at the moment. “Come and give me hugs. I missed you boogers!”

              They run into my arms, and I hold them so tightly that it’s probably overkill, but I just need to feel some unconditional love right now. I’m dreading asking the question I’m about to ask, but it has to be done. I release the kids from my hold, grab their hands and walk to the couch, pulling them into me again. “So, where did Dad go?”

              “He said he had to go to the store,” Cady says.

              “But he’ll be back before we go to bed,” Dyl finishes.

              “Oh, okay. Well, what did you guys do while you were out?”

              “Daddy took us out for dinner, and then we all got ice cream before we came home.”

              “It was awesome, Mom. Dad let us pick whatever we wanted! How come you didn’t come?”

              “Oh, Mommy wasn’t feeling so well, so I stayed home.”

              “Can we watch TV before bed? We already did our homework at the restaurant.”

              “Sure, hon.”

              And that’s what we do. We all cuddle on the couch and watch Cartoon Network. After an hour of
Teen Titans, Go
and me glancing at the door every five minutes, it was time for the kids to get ready for bed. Ignoring the pleas for “just five more minutes, Mom,” we finally walk upstairs. I make sure they brush their teeth and use the potty before changing into their pajamas.

              Just as I’m saying goodnight to Cady, I hear the front door open and shut. My heart begins to pound, beating harder with each step I hear drawing closer, until I feel his presence in the doorway. I turn to him, our eyes locking briefly. And in that moment, I know he’s miles away from me, and that pounding from before just stops.