“It’s in the morning, isn’t it?” I replied, taking a step forward. I heard her shaky breathing, then a soft sniffle.

“Yeah. I know you’re busy, but…I would like for you to go.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course I’m going. No matter what’s going on between us, it’s still my kid.”

The words came out harsher than I intended. Everything added up: her reluctance to stop talking to Derek, her inability to care for what I’d said, and I still managed to feel bad about her being so distressed. I pushed it away in that moment because, despite how I pissed I was, Evelyn would always be my weakness.

“Am I still welcome…at the gallery?” My chest constricted at the tone of her voice. The events from earlier in the day replayed in my mind: the happiness on her face followed by the heartbreak when I’d been so cold to her.

“Not with him, you’re not.”

She nodded in understanding. “I understand. I just wish you’d let me explain.”

Whatever she wanted to say, I knew I wouldn’t listen, at least not in that moment. I was still too angry, too blinded by anger to pay attention to what she had to say. Instead, I excused myself and got in the shower, hoping to wash away the shittiness of the day.

***

It was one of the longest showers I’d ever taken. Even then, Evelyn was still outside when I was done, remained out there even while I changed. Thinking we both needed the time and space to be alone, I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling like an idiot for a while.

It had to be another half hour until she walked back inside quietly, thinking that I was asleep. When I saw her out of the corner of my eye, however, it felt like the air knocked out of me.

Her eyes were swollen and red, her face splotchy. I knew her well enough to know her face looked like that when she cried hard and for a long time.

Still, Evie smiled weakly at me. “It’s the hormones.” She took off her slippers and crawled into bed with me. She stayed on her side, and I stayed on mine, precisely like we’d been doing the past days until she saw my busted lip and the bruise that started to form on my cheek bone. “You got in a fight.”

I barely registered her voice. Had I been too cruel? Why was she crying that much? Had she been crying all day? She hadn’t cried that much since that sex video got out, even after her mother’s death.

“…don’t have to tell me,” she whispered softly.

“What?”

“I said you don’t have to tell me…about the fight, I mean. Not if you don’t want to.”

“It was just a bar fight,” I replied, swallowing.

Knowing better than to think I was going to go into detail, Evie nodded, hugging a pillow beside her, between the both of us.

“Are you going to the gallery tomorrow?” she asked curiously.

“No, Jesse will take care of it.”

She didn’t comment on my reply. Instead, a smile adorned her features as she lowered her hand to her belly. I hadn’t touched her in what seemed an eternity.

If I touched her, though, I knew I wouldn’t stop there.

She had other thoughts.

Evelyn sat up, her warm, saddened eyes roaming my face hesitantly. Her hand contacted my jaw, then to the small bruise as she ran her thumb over it with a gentle caress. Finally, her eyes fluttered closed, and her lips met mine.

She breathed in then, as if she’d been holding her breath the whole time, as if I was her oxygen.

When she saw that I wasn’t stopping her, Evie kissed me again, her tongue seeking entrance almost immediately. I groaned, feeling her take control, letting the kiss speak for the words neither of us could say. She moaned softly when my tongue met hers, and I cupped her face in my hands, holding her as close to me as I could.

There was something in the way she was kissing me; it was desperate, longing. Heartbroken. I caught a tear with my thumb, but she didn’t stop, placing her hand over my chest even as her tears escaped.

“Evie—” I whispered, breaking it off. “Evie, what’s wrong?”

She rested her forehead against mine, keeping her eyes closed. “I’m losing you,” her voice broke.