I park my car just a little down the street from the studio and turn off the engine.
Nerves suddenly get the better of me, and my body starts to tremble, my heart beating faster.
Come on, Evie, you can do this.
Taking a deep breath, I get out of my car, hands still trembling, and I walk to the main doors.
As I’m walking, it dawns on me that he might not actually be here. I know his note said he left early because of a work emergency, but I thought that was a lie. And it is a Sunday. I figure the office would be closed. So, he could actually be at the hotel or anywhere else.
Crap.
Well, I’m here now. Might as well check it out.
When I get there, the main door is locked. But I can see a huge-looking guy with a bald head, wearing a security uniform, sitting in the reception area. His eyes are looking down at the desk, probably reading a magazine. Well, that’s what I would do if I were stuck in an empty office building on a Sunday afternoon.
I tap on the glass door, catching his attention.
He looks at me, so I wave my hand.
He gets up from his chair, not looking particular happy about the fact, and walks over to the doors.
He stops by the door and gives me a look that screams, What the fuck do you want?
“I, um…is Mr. Gunner here?” I say through the glass.
“Who’s asking?”
“Evie. Evie Taylor.” I won’t pull the wife card again.
“Well, Evie-Evie Taylor, you are out of luck. Mr. Gunner isn’t here.”
Fuck. Fuckity fuck!
Fine, I’ll just ring him and find out where he is.
I turn to leave, then, I realize that I don’t have my cell with me. It’s in my bag, which I left at home.
Triple fuck!
Fine, I’ll just go to the hotel, and if he’s not there, then I’ll go home and get my cell—
Hang on.
I turn back to the glass door and rap on it again, louder this time.
Huge guy had almost made it back to the reception desk.
He stops and lets out what looks like a massive sigh. Then, he turns back to me and marches over again.
“What?” he says loudly.
“You said Mr. Gunner isn’t here.”
“He isn’t.” His expression practically growls at me.
“But that’s his car right there.” I point to the black Range Rover Sport, which took me to Malibu yesterday. I recognize the license plate.
His eyes narrow on me. “Look, girlie, I get that you think that you’re something special and that Mr. Gunner will take one look at you and cast you as the lead in his next movie. Maybe he will. Who knows? But that day will not be today. I am under strict instructions to not bother him, and you, girlie, are not worth my job.”
“But that’s just it, I’m not an actress. I’m not here to see him about a movie. I’m actually…well, I’m a friend of his.”
He lets out a laugh that sounds like he’s heard this a thousand times before. “If you were his friend, then you would be standing on this side of the door, and not out there, wouldn’t you?” He gives me a knowing look, folding his arms over his huge chest.
I let out an awkward sounding laugh. “Well, that’s the thing you see…Adam—Mr. Gunner, he doesn’t like me very much right now and with good reason. So, that’s why I’m out here, and not in there. And that’s why I need to see him. So, I can explain.”
“No can do, girlie.”
Ahh!
“Please.” I press my palms to the window. “All I’m asking is, you call him and let him know I’m here. I’d call myself, but I left my cell at home.”
He stares at me for a long moment. So, I put my best pleading face on.
All I seem to do is plead with Adam’s staff to let me through to see him.
“Fine!” he huffs, reaching for his cell. He dials and puts it to his ear.
“I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but I have an Evie Taylor here—um-hum. Okay.” He hangs his cell up, putting it back into his pocket. “He doesn’t want to see you.”
“He said that?”
“Those exact words.”
Jesus. If he had smacked me in the face it would have hurt less, than Adam’s blatant rejection.
I watch as his expression changes to one of pity. I’m guessing it’s because of the look on mine.
I’m really close to bursting into tears.
Come on, Evie, pull yourself together.
I suck in a breath, blinking the tears away. “Well…thank you for trying. I really appreciate it.”
I turn from the door and stand there, not sure what to do.
Then, from nowhere, I feel a sudden rush of anger.
Well, fine, Adam doesn’t want to see me, but I want to see him.
He asked me last night for the truth, and that’s what I’m here to give him.
I’ve come this far, and I’m not going anywhere until I see it through to the end.
With determination in my stride, I march over to the bench across the street, facing the studio, and I sit down on it.
Okay, it might not be a massive declaration. And I’m actually starting to feel a little deflated, and stupid, now my ass is on this bench.
But this is all I’ve got. So, I’m staying put.
I mean, if I wanted to go all out, I could have tried to ninja kick open the door to the building—not that I know ninja, or how that would have even worked out—and if I had by some miracle made it through the door and made a dash for Adam’s office, I’m pretty sure huge guy in there would have taken me down in seconds and then called the cops. And I really don’t feel like spending the night in a prison cell.
So, I’m waiting here until Adam leaves the building.
Then, I’ll make him talk to me. Well, I don’t need him to talk. I just need him to listen.
Bench seats are not made for long periods of sitting. Both my ass cheeks are numb, and my back hurts.
Two hours is a really long time to sit. I mean, one hour is a long time, but two? This second hour feels longer than the first. I never realized how long an hour was until I had to sit here for two of them with absolutely nothing to do but stare across the street at Adam’s building. And God knows how much longer I’m going to be here.
But I’m not moving. I’ll sit here all night if I have to.
I know I look like a complete dick, but I don’t care.
I came here to tell Adam the truth, and that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to wait here until he leaves his building, and then I’m going to force him to hear me out.
I can’t remember the last time I sat for this long. Sure, I sit and watch TV for long periods of time, but I’m watching TV.
The last time I just sat like this and did nothing…was ten years ago—with Adam. We would sit up on my rock or just on the beach, and I would sketch for a while. Then, when I was done sketching, we’d just watch the sun fade into the ocean together, just being together.
Now, I’m sitting here alone, outside his building, and he doesn’t want to see me.
I tilt my head back and stare up at the sky. The clouds are slowly drifting over.
I let myself remember good times, happier times.
There was a time when I wouldn’t allow myself to remember the good times because it hurt too much to do so.
It hurts now, but it’s a pain I’m familiar with.
A shadow falls over me. I drop my gaze, and my eyes meet with Adam’s.
My breath catches. My heart stills.
“You suck at stakeouts,” he says in a low voice that sends chills over my skin. “I could have left the building and walked straight past you, and you wouldn’t have noticed.”
He sits down beside me on the bench. My eyes follow him. My mouth is open.
He’s here.
“Wh-why didn’t you?”
“Well, after two hours of waiting, I figured you must really want to talk to me.”
He was watching me from his building. I don’t know what to make of that. I want to think he hasn’t given up on me completely. But he might after I tell him what I’m here to say.
“I did—do. I do want to talk to you.” I swallow nervously, my mouth as dry as the desert. “And I would have waited for as long as necessary to make that happen.” I need him to know that.
“Well, I’m here now, so talk.”
I take a calming breath, trying to gather my thoughts. I’ve got so many things to say to him, and I want to make sure I get this out right and say everything I need to.
I blow that breath out and start talking, “I lied to you.” I look at him and hold his stare. “That first day in your bungalow at the hotel, you asked me if Ava had anything to do with my leaving, and I said no. That was a lie.”
His expression doesn’t change, but I see the anger flickering to life in his eyes.
He doesn’t say anything. He just continues to steadily stare back at me.
I look ahead, my hands pressed together in my lap, as I keep talking, “That night of your bachelor party, after you left, Ava turned up at the beach house. I didn’t let her in at first. I told her that you’d gone out. She said she wasn’t there to see you. She was there to see me. She told me that she had a proposition for me. I told her that whatever it was she had to say, I definitely wasn’t interested.”
I meet his eyes. I want him to see the truth in mine while I say this, “I was ready to shut the door in her face. Then, she started telling me things. She knew stuff about me, my family…about Casey. She knew that Casey was dying. And she told me there was a way she could help with that.
“There was a medical trial with a new drug, a potentially life-saving drug. It wasn’t available to the general population. It was invitation only. But she told me that she knew people, powerful people, and that she had gotten Casey a place in the trial. What she wanted in return for that place was…” A sudden tear drips from my eye. I quickly catch it. “I had to give you up. She brought annulment papers with her. She’d had them drawn up the day after we’d gotten married.”
I already have his attention, but that garners me more of it. I know what he’s thinking. He didn’t tell her until days later that we were married.
“She knew the moment we got married. Your credit card payment…” I explain.
Dawning settles on his face, but he still doesn’t say anything.
I drag my fingers through my hair, my eyes looking straight ahead again. “Ava told me she would let Casey have that place on the medical trial, and she would pay for any medical aftercare that she needed. In return, I had to leave you.” I look at him again. “It was you or Casey. I didn’t have a choice, Adam.”
Tears start to flow freely, and I let them. I don’t care that we’re out in the open.
“I had to sign the annulment papers. She made me leave my wedding ring behind. I didn’t want to. I wanted to keep something, so I would have…something. But she said I had to hurt you. Apparently, the annulment papers wouldn’t be enough. Then, I had to leave the papers there and go with her. I wasn’t allowed to ever contact you again. I said you would look for me—because I knew I would have looked for you. I guess part of me wanted you to find me…and the other part was scared that, if you did, she would pull the plug on Casey’s treatment. But she said she would make sure that you wouldn’t find me ever. I guess she made good on that promise.
“She had travel already arranged to take me, Casey, and Dad straight to San Francisco. I guess…I guess I was a sure thing. I had to go home and tell Dad while she waited outside. It…wasn’t easy.” I brush away some tears.
“We never told Casey…how we got her on the trial. We just told her that her doctor had gotten her on it. We quickly packed what we needed, and then Ava put us on a private jet at LAX to San Francisco. We were met by someone at the other end. We were put in an apartment near the treatment facility, and Casey started treatment the next day.”
I turn to face him. “You have to know, I never took any of Ava’s money. If she spent any money on Casey’s treatment, I didn’t know about it. And as soon as Casey was given the all-clear, we left the apartment and got our own place. Any follow-up treatment Casey needed was paid for by me and Dad. By that point, I had a full-time job working in a coffee shop.”
“Why didn’t you come back after Casey’s treatment was over?” His voice is even, detached…cold.
My heart stills. “The treatment took a long time. She was on the drugs for six months. It was a year before we got the all-clear. Then, we had to wait for follow-ups. And there was always that fear that it might return. Back then, Ava was my only option to getting Casey the treatment she would have needed if the tumor came back, like it had before. And…when we finally realized it wasn’t coming back…so much time had passed.” Biting down on my lip, I dry my face with my hands and stare down at the pavement beneath my feet. “I wanted to come back…so badly. But I didn’t know how to. I was…scared.”
“Of what?”
“That you wouldn’t be waiting when I came back. That…you’d have moved on.”
He lets out a humorless laugh. “I never did. That was your mistake, Evie.”
“I know that now. But back then, I didn’t. And I know this will sound screwed up, and you might not want to hear this…but part of what kept me away was Ava. It wasn’t fear—well, maybe a little fear.” I laugh a sound much akin to his. “But no matter how I felt about Ava, no matter how much I despised how she’d treated you all your life or what she did to us—how she used my sister dying for her own gain—I…well, I owed her. I still have my sister, living and breathing and healthy, because of Ava. I made a deal with her. I made a deal that I would never tell you the truth…a deal that I’m breaking right now.”
“You make it sound like you’re doing me a fucking favor,” he snaps.
It’s the first real sign of emotion I’ve gotten from him. Even though he’s snapping at me, I cling on to that as hope.
“That’s not what I’m trying to do. I’m just…I’m trying to make you understand why I couldn’t tell you back then.”
“You could have told me the instant you got back.”
“You’re right. But when you’ve held something in for so long, kept a secret…it’s hard to get the words out. It’s hard to say them. And even still, I felt like I owed Ava. And…I know your relationship with her was difficult, but she’s your mother. I didn’t want to be the reason your relationship with her ended. I know what it’s like to lose a mother, Adam. I didn’t want that for you, no matter how she is. I couldn’t be responsible for that.”
“But you could be responsible for obliterating my heart?” He stands abruptly.
My eyes follow him. Then, the rest of me does until I’m standing in front of him. “Adam—”
“I don’t know what to do with this, Evie. It’s too fucking much. Too fucked up. I want to be angry with you. I am angry with you. So very fucking angry.” He turns his face away.
When he brings it back to me, my heart splits in two. I see it there in his eyes. I’ve lost him again, and this time, it’s for good.
“Last night, I asked you for the truth. I told you, if you gave it to me, I would see if I could get past it. Today, you’ve given me that truth. Now, I’m telling you…I can’t get past it. And I don’t mean what you did—choosing Casey and saving her life. Hell, I would have told you to go, had I known. I would have told you to leave me, if it meant saving Casey’s life.
“But the moment you knew Casey was better, whether it was one year or five or ten, you had the chance. Countless times, you had the chance to tell me throughout those years and all these weeks since you’ve been back. But you’ve chosen not to because”—he lets out a disbelieving, painful-sounding laugh—“you owed my cunt of a mother. You left me here in the dark all of that time, knowing what she’d done to me, what she was still doing, what she’s always done to me—controlled my fucking life! That”—he points a finger at me, taking a step back—“I can’t forgive.
“So, now, I’m telling you, Evie, leave me the fuck alone. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to hear from you. I don’t want to breathe the same fucking air as you. I want you gone from my life. I want you to disappear just like you did ten years ago. But this time, I want you to stay gone.”
Then, he turns and walks away down the street.
All I can do is watch him go, my arms wrapping tightly around my stomach.
Whoever said the truth would set you free was a fucking liar.
I don’t feel free. I don’t feel better. I feel like I’ve just put a gun to my own heart and pulled the trigger, and now, I’m bleeding out, slowly and painfully.