Page 4 of The Wrong Side Of Us

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.

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