“Well, it’s not now, and you need to get the fuck out,” I say and seethe. I fold my arms across my chest as I look him in the eyes and tell him again. “I need space, and that means you’re leaving.” This townhouse is in both our names, I’m more than aware of that and he could easily bring that up. He has a right to be here and part of me wishes he would fight me on that, but he doesn’t. He stares at the ground for a moment, his broad shoulders rising slowly with each heavy breath. My body shakes as he snatches his keys off the counter and leaves, slamming the door behind him.

I try to convince myself as I move to the counter, bracing my hot palms on the cold granite and focusing on breathing. This is the worst it’s ever been between us. I know it’s the end of us. I can feel it deep down in my bones. Shattering my core.

Out of the need to move, to do something and just go through the motions, I reach for the bag on the counter.

It’s a mistake. Inside is a bottle of coffee creamer.

It’s so stupid that something like this could shred me. That it can make me fall to the floor. That it can make me feel like I’ve made the worst decision of my life.

That it makes me feel like I’m alone. And that it’s my fault for pushing Evan away.

Evan

It happened so slowly,

So slowly I couldn’t see.

She ruined me, damned me,

And brought me to my knees.

I can’t deny there was only one,

Only her for me.

One true love is a lie,

But with her, it has to be.

It’s odd how love was there right from the start and I didn’t even know it. Hindsight is twenty-twenty; I’ve made enough mistakes to know that. It doesn’t explain how I couldn’t see how obvious it was, right from the first night. Everything I did and said was different, everything I wanted changed.

My old bedroom in my father’s house reminds me of all the times I spent here, but more than anything it reminds me of the last time I was in here. When I was crying like a bitch on my bed, burying my head into the pillow and refusing to accept that my mother was dying.

The red plaid flannel sheets are tucked in tight. It feels like this room’s been frozen in time since I was here last. Kat fixed the sheets the same way when she made the bed the next morning. She held me all night. She let me cry and didn’t tell me to stop or tell me to do anything at all. She just loved me. Freely and for no good reason.