Chapter Thirty-Nine - Evangeline
I slip, my heel skidding off the polished wood stairs, and land on my ass. The hit is hard, and bruising, and I slide down several more stairs before I catch hold of the railing and stop the fall.
Somewhere in the house, somewhere far away, I hear a door bang open, as if hitting a wall. And for some stupid reason I cannot fathom, I wonder if the doorknob made a hole in the sheet rock.
Footsteps echo after that. Coming up from below—so he’s in the basement. I hold on to the railing as I make my way down to the second floor, my fingertips gripping the wood tightly.
That fall really fucking hurt and I’m going to have a giant bruise on my ass tomorrow.
“Go. Back. Upstairs.”
He’s panting out the words, very out of breath. Which is why they come out like three separate sentences. They’re not mean, though. Not a command. More of a request. One I choose not to take into consideration.
“Come with me then,” I say, pretty calm for the circumstances. “I don’t want to be alone today. It was a rough day. I’m tired. I need…” I draw in a huge breath. “I need to be with you.”
“I had a hard day too. I’m tired too. And I need to be alone.”
I realize… this is the first time I’ve really heard his true voice. Without the static of the intercom or being whispered so low into my ear it almost didn’t count as speech.
It’s deep. And rough. Like his jaw under the touch of my fingertips that left the tender skin between my legs sore with a rash. Like the chiseled muscles of his stomach. The sculpted shoulders rounding out his arms.
But… I can’t help but shake the feeling that hearing him is very bad. Like he’s giving up a part of himself he should still be saving. Like…
“Then let’s spend the night together,” I say, desperate. It takes every bit of self-control not to lift the blindfold away from my eyes and look at him. But that would spoil the game for sure. It really will be over and I’m not ready to stop playing. Not yet.
“I can’t,” he says.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You’re Mike.”
“I’m not Mike. Don’t be dumb. That guy is just another sad, in-it-for-the-money player. Fuckin’ tool. Just like Jordan.”
“Jordan didn’t show today,” I say, voice quivering. “I sat there and waited for him. He never came.”
Ix lets out a long breath, like he really is tired. “I’m not surprised. He had a lot going on.”
I am desperate to keep him here. I feel compelled to say something that will convince him. Change his mind about whatever it was that ruined his day and make him spend his night with me.
I consider my options. I don’t have many, but I refuse to spend tonight alone. I need him. Something. I cannot stand to be invisible now. Not after being seen by him for so many days. So I say, “Give me your story and I’ll go back upstairs.”
“I didn’t write it.”
“Liar,” I whisper. “That’s a lie, Ix. I know you wrote it. The only reason you’ve been writing it down at all was to get to the end. And this was supposed to be the end.”
“Evangeline,” he says. I can almost imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I can’t tonight, OK? It needs to be revised. So tomorrow.”
“No,” I say. “I’m going home tomorrow.”
He pauses. For several seconds. So long I start counting. And when I get to ten, he takes a deep breath. “Why?”
“Because we’re done here. I’m cured, I think.”
He huffs out some air. “You didn’t even play the violin yet.”
“I didn’t come here to play the violin,” I say. “And I don’t need to play it. I’m a prodigy. I know what I know. You don’t lose something like that.”
It comes out bitter and defensive.
“You don’t sound so sure,” he says.
I shift my weight onto my other foot. My hip is sore from the fall and I really want to sit down. But I refuse to go back upstairs and hide away in that bedroom.
“I want you to take me upstairs and stay with me or I want your ending. You don’t revise an ending. If you have to revise it, then it’s a lie. Are you lying to me?”
He pauses.
And that… that is what makes up my mind.
I stumble down the hallways towards him. I know he’s at the top of the stairs. And when I crash into his hard body, feel the softness of his t-shirt, I get such a sad feeling, I pull away, spin, and then my foot hits the top step and I fall.