Evelyn
It was noon when I couldn’t stand the silence any longer. It was suffocating, eating away at me, and I had no idea how to face it. So, I did the only thing I could-opened the damn door and walked out.
Jacob was sitting on the couch, his head lowered, eyes fixed on his hands, clenching them together like they could somehow hold him together. The sound of my footsteps must have pulled him from his haze because his gaze shifted to me, and I saw the tension in his shoulders ease. A quiet sigh escaped his lips.
He didn’t say a word, just stood as I walked toward him, stopping just a breath away. My chest tightened. Tears were threatening to spill, and worse-he could see it. That made it worse, because now I couldn’t hide it. The lump in my throat grew with each passing second.
Before I could say anything, he raised his hands, cupping my face gently. His touch shattered whatever restraint I had left, and my chin trembled, fighting to hold back the flood of tears.
He seemed to feel it, so he slid his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. I buried my face into his chest, my sobs finally breaking free. How stupid was I to cry in his arms? The man who caused this pain was the only one I trusted to heal it. He was the only one who had the power to break me and I knew it because I handed it to him.
“You’re a heartless bastard,” I muttered, gripping his t-shirt like it was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.
“I know…” His voice was soft, and he pressed a kiss to my temple, his lips brushing against my skin in gentle, apologetic strokes. His fingers traced soothing circles on my back, the intimacy only deepening the ache inside me.
“I hate you!” I cried, my voice shaking with frustration and hurt.
“I don’t believe that,” he whispered, a trace of disbelief in his voice.
“Asshole!” I choked out. “You fucking asshole. You should believe it!” I punched his chest, but didn’t pull away. I stayed there, nestled under his neck, breathing in his scent, finding comfort even as my heart cracked wide open. “I fucking hate you.”
“Okay, fine,” he sighed, his hands cupping my face gently as he wiped away my tears. His eyes were full of regret, but I didn’t trust it-didn’t trust any promises from him anymore. I doubted there’d be any change in his words if he spoke now-he’d looked perfectly normal in the morning and then he casually broke my heart. Cruel bastard, “Now, tell me,” he said, his fingers gently running through my hair, caressing my cheek with a tenderness that both soothed and stung, “Where do you want to go eat? You haven’t had anything since breakfast.”
“You haven’t eaten either,” I whispered, though I didn’t want to acknowledge it.
“Yeah,” he smiled softly, a flash of warmth in his eyes. “Which is why I want you to pick a place. We’ll have lunch together, and then I’ll take you on a long drive. How does that sound?”
His plan sounded nice, but there was something we couldn’t keep ignoring-there was a conversation waiting, hanging in the air between us, unspoken and unresolved.
“We need to talk,” I finally let out, meeting his eyes. His body stiffened for a moment, but then he exhaled, steadying himself.
“We will,” he said gently, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “But later, baby. Right now, let’s just get out of here.”
I wanted to argue, to force the conversation out into the open, but I couldn’t. Not yet. I didn’t want to break us any further.
“Sushi house,” I murmured, my voice quiet but firm.
He smiled, the weight on my chest lifting just slightly. “As you wish, baby.”
***
The wind through the open window calmed me, the gentle breeze brushing against my skin. Soft music played in the background, blending with the rhythmic hum of the car. Jacob’s hand rested on my thigh, fingers tracing small patterns that anchored me to the present, reminding me that he was here with me. But for how long?
I didn’t now.
As the day had stretched on-lunch turning into a long drive, then dinner, and now another drive-I couldn’t ignore the nagging question that haunted me. The conversation we’d left hanging between us loomed closer with each passing minute. When it finally came, would he be the same? Or would I find myself fighting alone again, just like before?
I didn’t know, again.
The day had slipped away, and with it, the illusion of peace. I reveled in the calm between us, savoring moments when we felt like ourselves again. When things didn’t feel like they were unraveling, when the weight of unspoken words wasn’t pressing down on us.
But then I’d catch him glancing at my belly, his eyes quickly shifting away, as if the very sight of it pained him. And I’d touch it, reassuring myself with the fact that our baby was there, growing. I didn’t know how Jacob felt about this, but part of me refused to believe he didn’t care at all. I couldn’t accept that he wanted to pretend it wasn’t real.
As we pulled into the apartment parking lot, I watched him carefully, the silence between us heavier than it should have been. Jacob opened the door for me, his hand brushing mine as I stepped out, kicking off my shoes. Neither of us bothered to turn on the lights. The moonlight filtered through the windows, casting a soft glow across the room, making everything feel peaceful, serene, yet fleeting.
“You must be tired,” he said softly, his arms lifting me effortlessly, pulling me against him. I let out a small sigh, sinking into the comfort of his touch as he carried me to the bedroom. Gently, he laid me down, then climbed in beside me, pulling me close so my back met his chest.
I relaxed against him, savoring the warmth, until the words I’d been holding back finally broke free.
“Jacob, we need to talk.”
He didn’t stiffen or pull away. Instead, he pressed a soft kiss to my shoulder, his breath warm against my skin.
“It’s late, baby,” he murmured, his voice soothing. “We’ll talk tomorrow, I promise.”
I opened my mouth, ready to push for an answer, but before I could speak, he yawned, his body relaxing against mine.
Maybe he was tired too.
I swallowed my words, feeling the weight of everything press down on me.
Tomorrow. We’d talk tomorrow.