Page 52 of The Right Kind of Wrong

CHAPTER 19

Nathan

I could literally see Evelyn losing herself. Bit by bit, the happy, energetic woman I knew was disappearing. Heartbreak was foreign to me until now. Her eyes didn't sparkle and were as lifeless as her grandmother's when she'd found her.

It was understandable. She was finally seeing her family's true colors, none of them were hiding anymore. Not when I made the call to disconnect Anne, not at the funeral, and not now as the group of “friends” of the family had gathered at my house. I'd flown Karla in from Florida but it didn't seem to help.

Evelyn sat alone on the sofa, her gaze lowered, and her makeup still intact.

I could almost hear the record playing in her fragile mind.

Keep up appearances.

Don't cause a scene.

There will be important people there, try not to mess it up.

I groaned, running a hand over my tired face. Half of the people here didn't even fucking know Anne well. Hell, they didn't give a damn while she lived; never called, never visited except for Jenna's mother.

A hand on my shoulder brought me out of my thoughts. I set the glass of bourbon down on the island when my mom cleared her throat.

“Your wife seems to be dealing well,” she said, gesturing towards Hannah who was laughing softly with Josh Nicholson's mother. I scoffed, shaking my head in disbelief. The woman had plastered her face with makeup, looking as flawless as ever. As if her grandmother hadn’t just died.

“Better than you think,” I scoffed.

“Your sister-in-law, not so much.”

Evelyn stood up, smoothing down her black dress and crossing her arms over her chest; as if that would shield her away from the people surrounding us. She walked past everyone, ignoring those who even attempted eye contact.

“If anyone asks, I'm in the restroom, yeah?” My mom seemed confused for a moment but nodded, letting me know she'd cover for me if need be.

I followed after the person I was worried about the most: Evelyn Carson. She ended up in the backyard, my chest constricting at the sight of her. These…feelings for her, they hadn't been planned. Sure, I'd made mistakes, fucked up by getting involved with her family for the wrong reasons and years of hell had been my karma, but with her it was different.

My friendship with her had always been sincere.

She'd been young when I met her, yet immediately, I knew there was something special about her. The differences with her sister were vast; one was energetic, the other one was more serious than a judge in court. Still, it was how pure her heart was that drew me in.

If things didn't work out with her, I didn't care. I wanted to see her happy, and now she was anything but. I stood next to her without saying a single word, knowing she'd sensed my presence by the way her shoulders relaxed.

She shifted slightly on her feet, her arm grazing my own before she turned around, her eyes meeting my own. I swallowed. She was gone too.

“Am I supposed to feel this numb?”

For the first time in three days, I heard her voice.

I pushed aside the uncomfortable feeling that settled in my chest at the thought of her crying alone in her bedroom at night. She'd rejected everyone's company since her grandmother had passed. “I don't think there's a right or wrong way to feel,” I said, answering her question. “When something like this happens you have the right to feel however it is that you feel, no one can judge you for it.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “My mom says I'm being irrational.”

“Your mom is being a bitch.”

The worry that I'd said too much dissipated when a half smile formed on her lips. “I don't think she was always like that. At least, I hope not. If not, Nana must have had a hard time raising her.”

My eyes followed the movement of her throat as she swallowed nervously, the unexpected mention of her grandmother taking a toll on her. I brought my hand up to her face, memorizing the way her eyes fluttered closed at the contact. If there was a way of taking away the pain she felt, I'd do it.

“I don't know what to feel,” she whispered. “It would be easier if I knew how to feel, what to think but I'm so lost, Nate. I'm so lonely.”

“You're not lonely,” I stated.

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