Page 39 of The Words of Us

I push open the door to the bookstore, the bell above the door ringing softly. The familiar scent of books and coffee hits me, but it doesn’t bring the comfort it usually does. Instead, it feels heavy, like a reminder of everything that’s at stake.

Evie’s sitting at a small table near the back, surrounded by books and papers, her back to the door. For a moment, I just watch her, my heart pounding. She looks tired, like she hasn’t slept, and I know that’s my fault. I did this to her. I kept the truth from her, and now she’s paying the price.

I take a deep breath and step forward, my voice barely above a whisper. “Evie?”

She freezes, her shoulders tensing, and slowly turns to face me. Her eyes are red, like she’s been crying, and the sight of it breaks something inside me.

“Sasha,” she says, her voice flat, emotionless. “What are you doing here?”

“I...I need to talk to you,” I say, my voice trembling. “I need to explain.”

She doesn’t say anything, just watches me, waiting. The silence between us feels like a chasm, wide and impossible to cross. But I have to try.

“I’m sorry,” I start, the words falling out in a rush. “I should’ve told you about Gareth. I should’ve been honest with you from the beginning. But I was scared. I was scared of losingyou, scared that if you knew about my past, you wouldn’t want me anymore.”

Evie’s expression doesn’t change. She just listens, her eyes hard, unreadable.

“I left him,” I continue, my voice shaking. “I left because I couldn’t breathe in that life. I never wanted to marry him, but I felt like I didn’t have a choice. Our families...they pushed me into it, and I was too weak to fight back. But it wasn’t real. None of it was real.”

Evie’s eyes flicker, but she doesn’t say anything.

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness,” I say, my voice cracking. “I know I messed up. I should’ve told you the truth, but I didn’t know how. And now...now I’m terrified that I’ve ruined everything.”

I look at her, desperate for some kind of response, some sign that she understands. But she just sits there staring at me, her expression unreadable.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she finally asks, her voice quiet but sharp, like a knife slicing through the air. “Why did you keep something like that from me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to look at me differently,” I whisper, my throat tight with emotion. “I didn’t want you to see me as someone with baggage, someone who’s broken. I wanted to be the person you deserved, and I thought that if I told you about Gareth, it would ruin everything.”

Evie’s lips press into a thin line, and she shakes her head slowly. “You think this is about me seeing you as broken? It’s about trust, Sasha. How am I supposed to trust you if you keep hiding things from me?”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I feel tears prick at my eyes. “I know,” I whisper. “I know I broke your trust, and I hate myself for it. But I’m here now, telling you everythingbecause I can’t keep running from this. I don’t want to run anymore.”

She doesn’t respond right away, and the silence stretches between us, heavy and suffocating.

“I need time,” she finally says, her voice tight with emotion. “I need time to figure out if I can forgive this. Because right now, I don’t know.”

The words are like a knife in my chest, but I nod, swallowing back the tears. “I understand. Take all the time you need.”

I stand in the bookstore, the silence stretching between us like an unspoken question. I’ve said everything I could, laid it all out in front of her. There’s no going back now. The words are out there, hanging in the air, and I can’t take them back. I wouldn’t, even if I could. For once, I’ve stopped running. I’ve stopped hiding.

But I can’t shake the sinking feeling in my stomach. I’ve hurt her. That much is clear from the way she looks at me; her eyes are full of hurt and confusion, and I know I’m the cause of that. Part of me wants to beg her to forgive me, to promise that I’ll never lie again, that I’ll do anything to fix this. But I don’t. I can’t.

I can’t control what happens next.

“Evie,” I say quietly, my voice breaking the stillness. She looks up at me, her expression unreadable, and my heart aches. “I’m not going to run from this anymore. I’ll be here when you’re ready—if you’re ready. I just need you to know that no matter what happens, I’m grateful for the time we’ve had together. Even if it’s over.”

The words are harder to say than I thought they’d be. Admitting that I might lose her feels like ripping out a piece of myself, but I can’t keep holding onto something I don’t have control over. I can’t make her forgive me. All I can do is give her the space to decide for herself.

Evie watches me, her lips pressing into a thin line, and for a moment, I wonder if she’ll say something, anything. But she stays quiet, and I understand. She needs time to process all of this. I can’t push her.

So, I take a deep breath, giving her one last look, trying to hold onto the memory of what we’ve shared, just in case this is the end.

“I’ll go,” I say softly. “But if you ever want to talk, I’ll be here.”

With that, I turn and walk toward the door, my heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. My hand hovers over the doorknob for a second, but I don’t look back. I can’t. I open the door, stepping out into the cold evening air, feeling the finality of the moment settle over me.

I’ve done all I can. The rest is up to her.

---