Evelyn
Life was interesting, to say the least. I never felt bored, always exploring the city. There was never a dull moment in New York. It was a place where there was always something going on, where life never stopped. It was difficult to get into its rhythm, though, especially when I didn’t know anyone.
I used to feel invincible, like I could conquer anything. And though now I felt stronger, I didn’t feel like myself. I couldn’t be the same or, rather, I was terrified to be the same. That broken and betrayed girl, the girl that made mistakes that nearly cost her her sanity. I didn’t want people to take advantage of me anymore. I’d chosen to build a wall around my life—one that only a select few could break through.
I sat at a coffee shop, looking at the people there as I sipped the hot drink. There was a couple who always sat at the same table and had the same routine all the time. They looked to be in their early thirties, and they were adorable.
They always walked in hand in hand, and she’d go sit at a corner table and take out her laptop while he ordered. He would wait and then set the drink in front of her, place a kiss on her forehead, then sit next to her. The next few minutes they’d sit in silence while she did who knew what on the computer, and when she would finish, they’d talk and talk and talk.
It was beautiful. There was always a smile on their faces, and even if they weren’t talking, there was nothing but pure love in their eyes.
It gave me hope to see that type of love still existed. I knew I had experienced it with Nathan. Our relationship had been beautiful while it lasted, even if afterward I’d been unable to fully commit.
Hannah would call me every now and then. The first two times she called, I didn’t answer because I didn’t know if I wanted to hear what she had to say. I wanted to give her a chance…but I was too afraid. The things she’d done to hurt me caused too much damage, destroying the little hope I had for her.
My mom never bothered calling me, which wasn’t much of a surprise. I supposed jail time kept her entertained.
And my father…well, he’d never been around when he was free, so I’d grown used to not knowing about him. I guessed being my mother’s accomplice didn’t work well for him.
So, all in all, with my family, nothing changed.
The events with the Nicholsons—the released video and the family rivalry that now existed—also followed me around. Some people recognized me as the youngest Carson sister. A lot knew of the fallout. A released sex tape was news, no matter where you lived, and knowing that it had all happened between family and “friends” made for plenty of conversation. I knew Josh hated me, wherever he was, as did his family. It was simply how it worked. I’d accused him of harassment, and then he’d teamed up with my lovely sister to expose my affair with Nathan. Everyone found out. I’d be forever on the Nicholsons’ bad side.
Though I told myself I was doing well, something told me I wasn’t really dealing with anything. In fact, I was running from the things that had happened.
Being alone didn’t frighten me.
What scared the hell out of me was the thought of my grandma seeing who I’d become. I was far from being the girl Nana had left behind when she passed away.
I couldn’t help but be torn about the situation.
The old Evie was so damaged, still not fully recovered, and it scared me shitless to know someone could cause me more pain. The worst part of it all was I was scared I’d hurt someone else.
Nana wouldn’t be proud.
Just as the door to the small coffee shop opened and Carter walked in, my phone rang. I frowned, looking down, but couldn’t help the smile that played on my lips when I saw who it was.
“I thought you wouldn’t be able to talk today,” I answered, raising the coffee I’d bought for Carter. He smiled, sitting across from me.
“I can’t,” Nathan answered. “But I have a few spare minutes and remembered I needed to tell you something.”
I raised my eyebrows. There was a lot of noise in the background, and I could barely hear Nathan, but I could tell that he sounded serious. Anxious even. “What’s going on?”
“There’s an art gallery opening tomorrow. It’s not too far from where you live, and I think you would enjoy it. You should go.”
For the past year, Nathan would recommend different art galleries he’d hear about. I loved going to them. It felt like I had a piece of him with me every time I went. I would take pictures of the pieces I found interesting, and he would help me analyze them, tell me what he thought they meant.
It was a beautiful thing to hear him talk so passionately and freely about the thing he loved the most in life.
“I’d love to go,” I replied. There was an echo in the background, like an intercom in a store or something along those lines. “Where are you, Nate? It’s so loud.”
“Busy,” he replied. “But I’ll send you the address tonight as soon as I’m home. Yeah?”
“That works. But are you okay?” I asked. He wasn’t acting like himself.
“I’m fine, Evie. Listen, I have to go. Take care. We’ll talk later.”
He hung up without giving me much time to answer. I frowned, feeling uneasy. The conversation had been so unlike him.
“Everything okay?” Carter asked, raising an eyebrow.
I nodded slowly. “I think. It was Nate.”
Carter’s eyes widened as he sipped from his drink. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. He was acting weird. He was talking fast like he was in a hurry. Have you talked to him?”
Carter pressed his lips together. I could tell he debated what he was going to say, but he ended up shaking his head. I didn’t think he’d lie to me, so I didn’t think much of it, yet I knew something was off. I just needed to figure out what it was.
“He told me about a different art gallery,” I said, trying to change the subject.
“Did he now?”
I smiled. “Yeah. Do you want to go with me? It opens tomorrow.”
Surprisingly, Carter declined. In the time we’d been here, he rarely stayed behind. This had to be the first time he wasn’t willing to go anywhere I invited him.
“What’s going on, Carter?” I asked, tilting my head to the side. “Are you not feeling well or something?”
“Nope,” he said, taking a long, long sip of his coffee. I was pretty sure he’d finished it in that moment just to avoid answering my question.
“Carter, what’s—”
“Nothing, dear. I just want to spend the day at home tomorrow. You go, have fun, take pictures, and tell me all about it, hm?”
“Are you sure? We can go to a doctor—”
Carter stretched his hand across the table, taking my own in his and squeezing it gently. “I’m fine, Evie, really, okay? Go and have fun.”
***
Carter and I spent the rest of Saturday walking through the city. I enjoyed the day, but I felt uneasy. It was a gut feeling I had which I couldn’t quite decipher.
I tried to do away with whatever it was and enjoyed the evening. The only message I received was the address from Nathan—nothing else. No sweet message. Nothing.
He typically ended the messages with a “pretty girl” or a “sweet Evie,” but this time, there was nothing.
That was the last thing on my mind as I fell asleep that night.
***
I woke up early Sunday morning to get ready to go to the gallery. It wasn’t too far from where I lived, but my hair was a tangled mess, and just fixing that would take a while. After putting on simple black leggings and an over-sized tan sweater, I slipped into my high-heeled boots. I stopped by Carter’s to ask him one last time if he wanted to go with me.
The answer remained the same.
After much hesitation, I left, alone and nervous. The uncomfortable feeling once again appeared, and I began having doubts about going at all. Maybe something bad was going to happen there and this was my instincts telling me it was a bad idea? It wasn’t too late to turn back around.
But Nathan wouldn’t have told me to go if he thought something bad would happen.
When I finally arrived at the gallery, the place was crowded. Whoever it was opening it was clearly either famous or there were other people very interested in their work.
I took out my phone and typed a quick message to Nathan.
Me: I’m here. Place is packed. You’d love it.
No answer.
Finally, I walked inside the gallery, gasping at all the varying colors I was immediately met with. I couldn’t help the smile on my face. It was all so beautiful and bright. It reminded me of Nate’s studio. Just in a few seconds, I knew this was my favorite out of all the galleries I’d visited in New York. There were people conversing, most of them staring in awe at the intricate details of each painting.
He would love this.
I was so absorbed by everything I was seeing, I couldn’t be bothered to take out my phone. It was the type of beauty I didn’t want to miss. The type of beauty that a photo just wouldn’t do justice.
As I looked through the gallery, my mind tried to create stories about the different paintings. There had to be a history, something that made the painter create that piece of art. There always was.
That’s what Nathan would say.
I swallowed, stopping in front of a painting that caught my attention. A small smile crept on my face.
It was a pair of eyes, feminine and beautiful. There was an innocence in them, yet they were so pained, hurt. The type of pain only a bruised soul can show after suffering loss. And yet there was brightness in them—brightness only present when there is a sense of hope.
In the background, it seemed as if there was a storm raging, stormy skies and even lighting, but the eyes stood out.
The title was simple: Her Eyes
“That one isn’t for sale.”
I gasped, startled not only by the voice behind me but by its familiarity. Slowly, I turned around, tucking a curl behind my ear.
Metallic gray eyes met mine.
“I can see this is your favorite painting.”
My eyes widened.
“Nathan…” I stepped back, unable to hide my shock. I completely forgot whatever else I was going to say. My brain stopped functioning.
His eyes sparkled. Gray like the color of ashes, intense like the fire that had once burned between us. I swallowed. Those ever-expressive gray eyes were full of heat.
“It’s nice to see you again, Evie.”